Worse, what if Alex hauled her off to Bow Street Station to face charges of being her father’s accomplice?
She glowered at him over the rims of the spectacles. Maybe he would depart as swiftly as he’d arrived. Maybe she would be spared a confrontation. Maybe he would never even notice her here …
All of a sudden, Laura realized they were discussing
her.
“Upon my return home,” Alex told his aunt, “I found a rather odd note from Lady Milford, saying that she’d engaged a companion for you. While I realize Lady Milford is an old acquaintance of yours, I can’t imagine why she would have taken such a step without first seeking my approval—or even providing me with this woman’s name. Tell me, who
is
your companion?”
“Companion?” Lady Josephine frowned a moment; then her lips curved in a comprehending smile. “Oh, you must mean Laura, my houseguest. Such a sweet, lovely girl. You’ll like her very much, I’m sure.”
Laura cringed. Of all times for her ladyship to remember the correct name.
“Laura?” Alex repeated rather sharply, his head tilted as he frowned at his aunt. “Laura who? What is her surname?”
Lady Josephine slowly shook her head. “I … I cannot recall. Upon my soul, I don’t know
how
I could have forgotten something so simple.”
“Never mind,” he said, briefly placing his hand on her shoulder. “I’ll find out for myself. Now, why has she left you out here alone? Do you know where she is at the moment?”
“I seem to recall that she sat here talking to me for a time … but then I must have dozed off.”
Laura didn’t dare hide any longer. As much as she dreaded this interview, it was better to face the inevitable than to let herself be caught cowering in the bushes.
Rising to her feet, she straightened her skirts and cleared her throat. “I’m here, my lady,” she said in a subdued tone that hopefully disguised her voice. “I was pulling weeds and thought it best not to interrupt your conversation.”
Her chin lowered, Laura adopted the meek stance of a servant. She prayed that the wide brim of the hat along with the spectacles would suffice to camouflage her features.
Was Alex staring at her? She couldn’t tell. The round glasses had transformed him into a blurred dark form, fuzzy at the edges, his features indistinct.
“So there you are!” Lady Josephine said with a cheery laugh. “Do come and join us, my dear girl. I should like you to meet my nephew.”
Laura edged down the path toward the house. “Thank you, but I wouldn’t dream of intruding—”
“Come here,” Alex stated. “At once.”
Chapter 6
His terse words conveyed the force of command. Laura had no choice but to obey the edict. Her heart thudding, she started toward the rose arbor, her steps slow from both reluctance and the distorting effect of the spectacles. She dared not look over the tops of them for fear he might remember her blue eyes—eyes he had once ardently professed to admire.
At her approach, Alex rose from the bench.
The earl
, she corrected herself. He was the Earl of Copley. She must cease thinking of him with any familiarity. He was a stranger to her now; in truth, she had never really known him at all.
Yet his arrogant presence made the very air come alive. It was as if he were larger than life, demanding her attention in utter disregard for her will. Her skin prickled from an intense awareness of his tall, well-muscled form, and the unwanted reaction irked her. This man had used his physical power to subdue Papa. If she hadn’t stopped the earl by slashing open his cheek, he would have hauled her father off to prison to be sentenced to death.
“Laura, this is my nephew, the Earl of Copley,” Lady Josephine said in a sprightly tone. “Alexander, my houseguest, Laura … Forgive me, what did you say was your full name, my dear?”
Laura sank into a deep curtsy. He didn’t deserve obeisance, but at least it afforded her the chance to hide her face. “Laura Brown.”
“Brown,” he repeated in a faintly ironic tone. “A common name, to be sure.”
“If you say so, my lord.”
His fingers clamped around her upper arm, causing Laura to draw a sharp breath. For an instant she feared he had recognized her and intended retaliation for striking him. But he merely assisted her to her feet before withdrawing his hand.
“I’ve never heard of any Browns among the gentry,” he said. “From where does your family hail?”
“Northumberland,” she lied, hoping the distance would thwart any investigation he might be contemplating. “The Browns are landowners there, though inconsequential by comparison with an exalted family such as yours.”
“Tell me, what are your qualifications for this position?”
Avoiding eye contact, she kept her head tilted down in a modest pose. “I’m well versed in all the requisite skills of a lady, from deportment to dancing, playing the pianoforte to managing a—”
“My aunt requires specialized care. Not someone who is distracted by frivolous pastimes.”
Laura bristled at his interruption. What had happened to the charming man he’d once been? It only proved that his amiability had all been a facade. “If you’ll permit me to finish, my lord. In addition to managing a
household
, I’ve ample experience in caring for an aging member of my own family.”
It was only a small fib. He needn’t know that her father had been in the peak of health before his fateful trip to England.
“Laura has been a perfect delight,” his aunt said from her seat on the bench. “Truly, Alexander, you will see that once you become better acquainted with her.”
“Thank you, Aunt Josie. However, I’d be remiss in my duties if I allowed just anyone to live in your house.” On that rude remark, he addressed Laura again. “Who was your previous employer?”
“I’ve only the one reference from Lady Milford.”
“To my knowledge, Lady Milford has never engaged a companion.”
Laura knew she was on treacherous ground. His questions were too pointed, his tone too mocking. “She’s a family friend. It was very kind of her to help me since I’ve spent a good deal of my life abroad.”
“Abroad? Where?”
Laura decided to keep as close to the truth as possible. “Portugal. My father had business interests there.”
“What manner of business?”
“Trade,” she said, being deliberately vague. “He seldom spoke of such matters at home. He believed commerce to be a man’s domain.”
The earl took a step closer. “And where, pray tell, is your father now?”
His frigid tone sent prickles over her skin. Risking a peek over the spectacles, Laura took her first clear look at his face. The concentrated force of those dark eyes probed into her. Where once he had smiled warmly at her, now his lips were thinned and hostile. The grim set of his mouth confirmed her fears.
The Earl of Copley knew precisely who she was. Her masquerade had not fooled him one whit.
As if to dispel the slightest lingering doubt, he fingered the diagonal scar that bisected his left cheek. Laura gazed in morbid fascination at the results of her handiwork. The long, thin line had spoiled his once-boyish good looks. No longer was he the carefree charmer she had been foolish enough to love. Maturity had hardened his features, his taut expression making it clear that he was not a man to be crossed.
In a flicker of memory, she saw him staggering backward from the strike of the penknife, his hand to his face, red blood dripping from between his fingers.
Laura banished a faintly queasy feeling. She hadn’t suffered any regret over maiming him back then, and she wouldn’t do so now, either. The attack had gained her enough time to rush her father out of the study. She had slammed the door shut and turned the key in the lock to imprison Alex.
He must have been livid. No man liked being outwitted by a woman, least of all an arrogant lord like him.
Lady Josephine’s raspy voice broke the spell. “Alexander, for shame. You mustn’t quiz the poor girl with questions of a personal nature.”
The old woman sat on the bench, gazing up at the two of them with a vaguely perplexed expression.
His harsh countenance softened somewhat as he turned to his aunt. “I doubt Miss Brown is so easily offended. Someone who’s traveled all the way to Portugal must be made of sterner stuff than that.”
Lady Josephine gave a vigorous nod. “She’s a fine, upstanding girl. And exceedingly pretty, too, don’t you agree?”
The earl shifted his cool gaze back to Laura. “It’s difficult to tell with that unsightly hat. One would think she’s trying to hide something.”
In a quick move, he untied the ribbon beneath her chin and snatched off the floppy straw bonnet. Laura lifted her hands to stop him. But he’d already sent the hat sailing over the garden wall and into the mews.
Furious, she readjusted the lace spinster’s cap and checked her prim bun for any dislodged pins. “That was hardly necessary, my lord,” she said, managing a stiff smile for Lady Josephine’s benefit. “I would have removed it myself had I been allowed the chance.”
“Then I’ll permit
you
to dispense with the spectacles.”
Her mutinous gaze bored into his. “But I need them.”
“Do you really, dear?” Lady Josephine asked hesitantly. “I don’t wish to gainsay you, but I
have
noticed that you look over the tops of them more often than not. And they conceal your pretty blue eyes.”
Laura glanced down at the old woman’s guileless face. “I’m not quite used to them yet, that’s all.”
Lord Copley cocked a dark eyebrow. “Stubbornness is not a commendable trait in a companion. I trust you
will
do as you’re told.”
Everything in her rebelled against obeying him. Yet she didn’t wish to give him an easy excuse to dismiss her from his aunt’s employ. Removing the glasses, she tucked them into a pocket of her apron. “There, I hope you’re satisfied, my lord.”
“Far from it,” he muttered under his breath.
Their gazes locked for a moment, and Laura sensed a seething anger behind his hard mask. It was only to be expected, she told herself. Every time he looked in a mirror, he saw what she’d done to him—and he remembered how she had outfoxed him.
He surely would want revenge.
Well, so did she—though
her
retribution would be exacted upon the villain who had incriminated her father. She must be very careful lest the earl overturn those plans. Like it or not, she would have to swallow her resentment and placate him in the hope of saving her position here.
He returned his attention to his aunt. “I would like to complete my interview with Miss Brown in private. If you don’t mind, we’ll excuse ourselves for a few minutes.”
“Of course! Pray take as long as you like.” Lady Josephine wagged her finger at him. “Only remember, you mustn’t bully Laura. I won’t have you frightening her away from here.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Chapter 7
Alex hoped the cagey answer would satisfy his aunt. He didn’t want to make a promise to her that he might not be able to honor. The truth was, he had not yet determined how to proceed.
Laura—in his aunt’s garden! Despite the droopy hat and the rimless spectacles, he had recognized her at once. The sight of her walking toward him had knocked him utterly off kilter. He’d long ago made peace with the belief that he’d never see her again.
But here she stood, as headstrong and as beautiful as ever.
What was her purpose in returning to London? Why had she sought employment with his aunt of all people? Did she hope to erase the past and finagle her way back into his good graces?
Heat seared him, but logic swiftly put a damper on it. If that was her reason, then why had she gone to great lengths to conceal her identity? Why did she act as if he was the last man on earth she’d wanted to encounter?
And where was her father?
Damn, he needed answers from her. At once.
Taking leave of his aunt, Alex noticed that Laura already had marched halfway down the path to the house. Her dark gray gown was high-necked, long-sleeved, and devoid of adornment. No longer the fashionable debutante, she wore the white apron of a servant. Yet the drab costume could not conceal the slimness of her waist or the alluring sway of her hips. Nor could the spinster’s cap hide the glory of her tawny-gold hair. In truth, the plain garb merely served as a blank canvas for her rare beauty.
Head held high, she stepped into the house; he only just caught the door in time before it slammed in his face. Her displeasure could not have been clearer—and it grated on him. Though ten years had passed, she apparently still held
him
to blame for the fact that she’d been forced to flee England.
Him
, and not the father who had committed the most sensational robbery of the century.
A crime that had yet to be resolved.
Alex squinted as his eyes adjusted to the dimness inside the house. Halfway down the corridor, Laura had stopped to converse with Mrs. Samson, a gaunt-faced woman with a ring of keys dangling from the waist of her dark gown.
“… shouldn’t leave her ladyship unattended,” the housekeeper was scolding. “You’ll find we don’t tolerate such lax behavior in this household!”
Laura held herself rigidly. “I am perfectly aware of my duties—”
“Is there some difficulty?” Alex interrupted. “I requested a private interview with Miss Brown.”
“Your lordship!” A toadying smile banishing her sour expression, Mrs. Samson bobbed a curtsy. “Forgive me, I wasn’t informed of your arrival.”
“Send a maid outside to wait with my aunt.”
“Yes, my lord. At once.”
As the housekeeper scurried to do his bidding, Laura didn’t appear to appreciate his intercession. She barely glanced at him before leading the way into the back office that had once been his uncle’s domain.
The wall shelves held a few account books along with an array of snuffboxes, horse and dog figurines, and other useless novelties. The clutter exasperated Alex, but his aunt became misty-eyed when asked to part with anything that had belonged to Uncle Charles. Years ago, Alex had given up on the task.