Nicola Cornick (30 page)

James himself was, in fact, no less shaken than she. He castigated himself silently and viciously for permitting his desires to overcome his self-control. True, Alicia had goaded him to it, but even so he could not blame her. He had wanted it as much as she. In fact, he was damn near being driven mad with desire for her! It had been bad enough to
have to keep his distance after she had made it plain she thought his attentions meaningless. He had determined to show her the truth, but he had not wanted to propose until he could prove his estates were in good order and he did not need her money. In the meantime, Lady Corinna had proved a good distraction for the
ton
, who had been convinced they had been having an affair. Unfortunately, Alicia had thought so too.

Then, tonight, her unexpected proposition had completely floored him. He had known at the Bingleys’ ball that her strictures to him to behave circumspectly had been almost in spite of herself. Alicia had wanted him, and only the fear that he might not care for her had held her back. Knowing that he would soon be able to declare himself, James had tried to possess his soul in patience. Then she had set out to seduce him.

At first disbelieving that she really meant to go through with it, James had been infuriated by her apparent attempt to use him. Deep down he did not really believe it to be true, but once he had let his self-control slip he had been as helpless as Alicia to avoid the torrent of passion that had followed. It was, after all, what he wanted. Now he could see no point in delaying further and intended to put his fate to the touch.

‘You have nothing to fear from me, Lady Carberry,’ James said dryly as he assimilated how she had chosen to distance herself from him, ‘for I am determined to proceed with the utmost propriety from now onwards. It was not my intention to speak now, but it seems foolish for us both to carry on this most unsatisfactory of situations. I should therefore deem it an honour should you agree to become my wife.’

It was a considerably more handsome proposal than his previous one, but Alicia was no less surprised than she had been then. She had been waiting for his scornful denunciation and thinking that she preferred to have quite a large space between them, plus several pieces of solid furniture, when his words broke on her like a bombshell.

‘No!’ The word was wrenched from her. Seeing his frown deepen, she tried to move even further away from him and would have succeeded had he not caught her arm and held her still. ‘This cannot be so, my lord! I thought…’ She stopped and caught her breath while she tried to work out what she did think.

So he was not going to reproach her for her folly and wilful provocation. Alicia remembered Ottery, and James’s determination to do the right thing despite his dislike of her. She must have misjudged him just now, she thought a little shakily. He had not manufactured the situation
to punish her; instead, she had trapped him into a predicament where he felt the only solution could be to propose marriage and save her reputation. What had he said? That he had not intended to speak now…That, at least, she could believe to be true and it made clear to her her only course of action. She could not hold him to a proposal made under duress.

She freed her arm gently from James’s grasp and looked up to meet the gaze that was fixed intently on her.

‘I am sensible of the honour you do me, Lord Mullineaux,’ Alicia said unsteadily, ‘but I must decline. I cannot permit you to make me an offer out of pity, or propriety, or whatever else one might choose to call it!’

There was a taut silence. James was looking both astonished and annoyed. He ran his hand through his hair, only adding to its general look of dishevelment.

‘My dear Alicia, what are you talking about? Is the prospect of marriage to me so disagreeable that you have to make excuses by crediting me with such false motives?’

‘Yes! No! Of course not!’ Alicia tried to get a grip on herself. ‘I appreciate your reasons for asking me to marry you, sir, but it would not serve! It was foolish of me to meet with you alone tonight, and even more foolish of me to provoke you as I did—I see that now. But no real harm is done and, out of your generosity, I ask you to forget all that has happened. There is no necessity for anything more!’

A slightly grim expression came over James’s face as he made a rapid reassessment of the situation. ‘Alicia,’ he said dangerously, ‘do I understand you correctly? Are you suggesting that I have proposed to you only to protect your reputation, or even to make amends for what has just happened between us?’

‘Certainly,’ Alicia said, with a cool composure that was far from her real feelings. ‘It is quite clear to me that both your recent proposals to me have been made out of chivalry! There could be no other explanation for your behaviour at Ottery, and, whilst I appreciate your kindness more than I can say, I cannot permit you to tie yourself to a loveless marriage just in order to do what you perceive to be right!’

At that moment, James was looking anything but kind. In fact, he seemed about to commit an act of violence. He could not believe that Alicia could have so thoroughly, so determinedly misunderstood him. Not long ago, he reflected with incredulity, he had relished the battle
of wills between them. Now he was merely infuriated. Severe sexual frustration did not improve his temper.

‘Well, here is a Cheltenham tragedy! I see that you are determined to martyr yourself, madam, so I shall leave you to do so in peace! It was too simple, I suppose, to have imagined I might have been prompted to propose because I love you—that
that
was the reason why I could see no point in us continuing to be apart! Allow me to say that you would try the patience of a saint! Goodnight to you, madam! I will see myself out!’

The door slammed behind him, leaving Alicia staring after him openmouthed and, for once, silenced.

Deverson, James’s very proper gentleman’s gentleman, was startled by his master’s reappearance so early in the evening, and in such a state of disarray. James’s neckcloth was completely ruined and the jacket which had earlier fitted without a wrinkle now looked distinctly rakish.

Deverson’s consternation grew as James’s filthy temper became evident. Usually the most amiable of employers, he said barely a word from the time he entered the house to when he left it again thirty minutes later, with the air of a man setting out to get comprehensively drunk.

James did indeed turn in the direction of White’s, but at his club fate decreed that he should meet up with Marcus Kilgaren, Charles Oxley and Peter Weston, who were in the card-room. They hailed him enthusiastically with the offer of a game of faro, but James declined and after a thoughtful look at him Marcus declared his pockets to let and got up from the table.

‘You’re looking pretty rough, old chap,’ he commented critically as by common consent he and James moved off in search of a drink. He took two glasses from a passing waiter. ‘Care to share the problem?’

He handed James the glass and watched with interest as his friend downed the contents in one mouthful.

‘Steady on, James, this is quite a tolerable claret!’

James scowled. ‘I have just proposed marriage to Alicia Carberry for a second time, and been rejected,’ he said abruptly.

Marcus glanced round, but they were in no danger of being overheard. A couple of elderly noblemen were dozing over their newspapers before the fire, but it was too early for the young bloods, who were all still out on the Town or gambling for high stakes.

Marcus raised a quizzical eyebrow. Alicia’s refusal must rankle in
deed for James to speak so openly of it. ‘Now you have surprised me,’ he observed quietly. ‘From what I know of the lady, I would have said that your suit would be welcome—this time around!’

James’s scowl deepened. ‘Yes, well, I was coxcomb enough to believe the same myself! I could have sworn—’ He broke off. ‘My mistake was a simple tactical error: I did not prepare my ground well enough before I advanced!’

Marcus looked at him with concern and a hint of amusement. ‘This really doesn’t sound like you at all, James! Have you lost your touch?’

‘Since when have I had it in my dealings with Alicia?’ James put his glass down and reached for another. ‘Marcus, you would not believe the way in which Alicia was prepared to ascribe my reasons for proposing to her to all but the most obvious motives! Pity, propriety, chivalry…she had thought of them all!’

Marcus hid his grin by taking a sip of wine. ‘Whereas I can discern immediately that you are suffering all the symptoms of a thwarted passion, old chap! However did all this misunderstanding come about?’

James gave him a baleful look. ‘Like I said, Marcus, I rushed my fences! I’ll spare you the details, for I don’t wish to shock you! Suffice it to say that I have been finding self-denial a little difficult where Alicia is concerned, and tonight I nearly lost what little self-control I had!’

‘Ah!’ Marcus required no further clarification. ‘Don’t tell me—you, realising that to postpone your proposal further would only lead to more pointless self-sacrifice, offered Alicia your hand but perhaps did not mention your heart, only to be told that she understood your chivalric reasons for proposing and could not possibly let you sacrifice yourself!’

James stared. ‘How on earth did you know that?’

‘Common sense, old chap! If you didn’t mention first that you cared for Alicia, your cause was already lost, I’m afraid!’

James began to see the funny side of the situation. ‘Thank you for the philosophy—how about some practical advice on how I put the matter to rights?’

‘Hmm,’ Marcus looked meditative. ‘That’s the difficult bit!’ He started to laugh. ‘I have to say, James, that this is the most amusing turnabout! Who would have thought that you would have such difficulty in persuading a lady to marry you?’

‘Thank you!’ James tried to sound sarcastic but could not help laughing. ‘It is not a problem which I had anticipated, certainly! So what can I do?’

Marcus raised a hand to beckon the waiter across. ‘Lay siege to her
feelings—prove that you love her!’ He made an expansive gesture. ‘I don’t know—you are supposed to be the expert in these matters!’ He gave his friend a mocking look. ‘Brought low by a slip of a girl, James?’

But James had regained his good humour. He smiled. ‘It was only a matter of time,’ he said.

Alicia did not discuss James’s proposal with anyone. Her feelings on the subject were still too raw. On the day following their encounter she developed a sick headache and sore throat, and when Miss Frensham found her in tears in the drawing-room it was easier for her to admit to influenza than try to explain to her companion that her misery also sprang from another cause.

It was ten days before she felt any better. The fever was followed by lassitude and depression, and she was prone to burst into tears for no reason at all. She spent much time lying in her bed, gazing unseeingly out of the window while her miserable thoughts centred on James and the hopeless mess she had made of their relationship. On the fifth day of her illness, a huge bouquet of lilies and snapdragons arrived from him, which prompted her to burst into tears yet again. She knew that he had called but she had refused all visitors except Caroline Kilgaren, whose brisk common sense had been tempered with so much kindness that Alicia had almost cried again.

James, meanwhile, had been true to his word and had gone to Bow Street to put in train an investigation into the death of Josiah Broseley. His requests for information had met with little enthusiasm. Josiah’s name was not known to the Runners, a gloomily helpful man named Dundry had informed him, although that did not prove that he had not been mixed up in all sorts of nefarious goings on. Dundry had agreed that they would do their best to find out what his lordship wanted to know, and James had left him with the instruction that he should let him know at once if he had any useful information.

James was, in fact, finding it deeply frustrating not to be able to speak with Alicia. At first he had been confident of his ability to persuade her of his true feelings, but the passage of two weeks without seeing her had gnawed away at both his patience and the assurance that he could put matters to rights. He had called several times in Upper Grosvenor Street only to be told by an urbane Fordyce that Lady Carberry was much better, but still not receiving guests. It had not improved his temper.

Matters became progressively worse. At the end of the week, James’s
grandfather, the Duke of Cardace, was holding a magnificently opulent ball and James had rashly promised to help his maiden aunt Eugenie with the last minute preparations. This allowed him little time for social calls, so he tried to make do with despatching another huge bouquet of flowers to Alicia, with a note saying that he hoped she was better and looked forward to seeing her. On the day of the ball he was suddenly assailed by doubts and wondered if she would attend. Given that he had not been allowed a chance to put matters to rights with her, it seemed all too possible that she would not. Too late, he wished he had made time to call on her that day and found himself to be in an even worse temper. Adding yet another ruined neckcloth to the discarded pile, James reflected that the course of true love was proving tiresomely riddled with difficulties.

In the event, however, Alicia was not so poor-spirited as to fail to attend the ball. James, involved in the tediously long and boring process of greeting the guests, as well as also taking on a fair proportion of the host’s role as a result of his grandfather’s infirmity, was nevertheless able to pinpoint the exact moment when Alicia came through the door.