Authors: Victoria Alexander

Tags: #Historical

The Lady In Question (42 page)

“Not yet.” Tony smiled and nodded at the Scot. “See to it, Mac.”

“Tea would be lovely. If his war wounds allow for it,” she said in an overly sweet manner.

“I’ll manage, miss, thank you for asking,” Mac said under his breath, and hurried from the room as if grateful to escape.

Miss Effington glanced around in a considering manner. “I can certainly see why you might need a bit of assistance.”

“What?” Tony frowned in confusion. She knew what he wanted? “Oh, you’re talking about the house. Of course. It is sadly out of date, or so I’ve been told. I’ve only been here for a few days and really haven’t paid it much heed.”

She raised a brow.

“Certainly even I can
see…”
He blew a resigned breath. “I fear you have found me out, Miss Effington.”

“It wasn’t especially difficult, my lord,” she said mildly, cast a disparaging look at the well-worn sofa, then perched cautiously on its edge. “I assumed refurbishing was not uppermost in your mind these days.”

“No.” He sat down on a nearby chair and leaned forward. “Your sister is uppermost in my mind. Every hour of every day and every minute of every night. I consider myself an intelligent man, but I have no idea how to approach her and no idea if she’d as yet be receptive to even seeing me.” He jumped to his feet and paced before her. “Good Lord, Miss Effington, it’s been two long blasted months and four bloody days. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t concentrate, I can’t think about anything but her. And I have a great deal to think about at the moment.”

“The business of being a spy, perhaps?” she said pleasantly.

“Agent
is the preferred term,” he said without thinking, then narrowed his eyes. “You know?”

She nodded.

He should have realized the moment she mentioned murderous housekeepers that Delia had told her what had transpired. “Did she tell you everything?”

“Every horrid detail.” Miss Effington’s voice was cool, but she was obviously holding back a grin. The woman, no doubt, enjoyed his discomfort. Her blue eyes glittered with amusement.
Delia’s eyes.
He pushed the thought out of his head.

“You do understand the confidential nature of all this?”

Her eyes widened with indignation. “Do
you
understand that neither nor anyone in my family would ever do anything that was not in the best interests of the crown?”

“Certainly, I simply —”

“And I should think revealing the comedy of errors that has taken place in my — my sister’s house would certainly fall into that category.

“It was perhaps not our finest hour. Still, our intentions —”

“Intentions?” She snorted in a most unladylike manner.

He bit back a sharp reply. He wanted this woman on his side, after all. “Forgive me, Miss Effington.”

Tony ran his hand through his hair. “You’re right, of course. It was all a disaster from beginning to end. Ill-advised, poorly planned and in many ways quite mad. I admit all of that. I further admit that I have a difficult time regretting most of it.”

She stared in disbelief. “How can you possibly say that?”

“Because it’s true.” He sat down and met her gaze firmly. “While indeed my original purpose was primarily to protect Delia in the guise of her butler, I became her friend as well. And she became mine.”

“But it was all a lie.”

“Some of the details, perhaps, but not the feelings, the emotions, as it were.” He struggled to choose the right words. “There was more truth in some of our discussions — on my part, at least — than I have ever known with anyone. It makes no sense, perhaps. I can’t say I understand it myself. As for your sister…” He shook his head. “She was forthright and honest and caring. It’s in those moments that we spent together playing backgammon and talking of matters of consequence or completely insignificant that I fell in love with her. It was as her servant, when I was pretending to be someone else, that I saw her with no pretense at all. And it was then she claimed my heart.

“No, Miss Effington.” He shook his head. “Regardless of how it may seem to you, that I cannot regret. Nor do I regret loving her. I am, however, deeply sorry for the pain I have caused her, and I promise you I shall spend the rest of my days making it up to her.”

“Will you?” Her voice was soft.

“You have my word.” He caught her gaze. “Miss Effington, will you help me?”

“My lord, I…” She raised her chin. “I fear I have something of a confession —”

“Tea!” Mac strode into the room bearing a tray with the various and sundry items that comprised tea and a determined expression on his face. He set the tray down so hard the cups rattled and leaned toward Tony, lowering his voice confidentially. “Sir, I need to speak to you.”

“Not now.” Tony turned his attention back to Miss Effington. “You were —”

“Sir.” Mac’s voice rang a good two shades louder than necessary. “Perhaps Miss Effington would like to pour?”

“Of course.” Tony smiled at her. “If you would be so kind.”

Miss Effington started to reach out, then stopped. “I’d really rather not, if you don’t mind. I find I’m a bit clumsy today.”

A slight smile of triumph curved Mac’s lips. What on earth did he have to feel smug about?

Mac handed Miss Effington a cup and their gazes met. The Scot’s grin widened. Miss Effington appeared just the least bit flustered. It was all exceedingly odd, as though the two of them shared a secret Tony wasn’t privy to.

“Sir, your cup.” Mac thrust the cup at him and Tony could have sworn the man did it deliberately. Scalding liquid splashed onto Tony’s lap.

“Yow!” Tony leapt to his feet which just resulted in the remaining tea splashing onto the front of his shirt, down the rest of him and onto the floor.

“Good heavens!” Miss Effington jumped up. “Are you all right?”

“Blast it all, man, what are you doing?” Tony glared at Mac.

“Sorry, sir.” Mac’s tone was contrite, but he was obviously trying not to grin. Tony grabbed a cloth off the tray and waved ineffectually at the wet spots on his clothes.

“Here.” Miss Effington snatched the cloth from him. “Let me do that. You, MacPherson, go find something to clean up the mess on the floor.” She proceeded to blot at the spill on Tony’s chest.

“Really, Miss Effington, this is not necessary.” Oh, this was certainly going well. She was dabbing a bit harder than necessary too. He stared down at her and his breath caught. Tony cast a quick glance over her head. Mac lounged in the doorway, a definite smirk on his face. Tony nodded almost imperceptively, stifling a grin of his own.

“Miss Effington.” He caught her hand against his chest.
Her right hand.
His gaze trapped hers. “I have never noticed how like your sister you are.”

“Well, there are some differences,” she said uneasily, and tried to pull away. He refused to let her go. “They’re not apparent. In truth, they’re insignificant. Your hair is her hair. Your eyes are her eyes.” He jerked her into his arms. “You fit against me as perfectly as she does.”

“My lord, release me at once!”

“I can’t. Being without her has driven me mad. And you are so very much…” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “Do your lips taste like hers as well, I wonder?”

She gasped. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, but I would.”

“You…you…I fear you have me at a disadvantage.”

“I do hope so.”

“My lord, I’m —”

“I’m going to kiss you, Miss Effington, and you are going to kiss me back.” He tightened his embrace and leaned close to nuzzle the side of her neck. “Unless you would prefer to play highwayman and…”

She stilled.

“…runaway princess.”

Delia held her breath for a moment, then sighed. “You are a wicked, wicked man, St. Stephens.”

“You have made me wicked.”

“I have a confession to make,” she said quickly.

“Why?” he murmured against her warm silken skin. “You don’t make them well.”

“You’ll like this one.” Delia drew a deep breath. “I have, more or less, decided to forgive you.”

He drew back and stared down at her, into the blue eyes that had haunted his days and nights. “More or less?”

“Well, I certainly don’t intend to ever let you forget all that has happened.” She raised her chin in that way she had when she was taking on the world itself. Or right now, perhaps just the future. “I shall hold it over your head forever and use it to get whatever I want from you until the day I die.”

“I see. You’re saying that you will make me pay for my sins for the rest of my life.”

“Absolutely.” She nodded firmly.

He paused for a moment, then nodded. “I believe it’s worth it.”

“You were a charming old man.” She slipped her arms around his neck and grinned up at him, the dimple in her right cheek flashing. “But you were a terrible butler, you know.”

“And you, my love, were a most improper widow.”

“Are you still a spy?”

“Agent,” he said. “No. Simply a viscount. In dire need of a viscountess.”

“Pity,” she said with a grin.

“Why?”

“Well…” She sighed with exaggerated regret. “I didn’t have the chance to become a woman of experience. And the last time I went to bed with a spy, I woke up to find my house in flames. It was really quite an adventure.”

He laughed. “Grand?”

“Oh, most certainly grand.” Her gaze met his and she sobered. “I have missed you more than I can say. And regardless of what has brought us to this point, I too cannot regret much of it because it led to you. To us. To a happiness I suspect will be the grandest adventure of all.”

“And I have missed you. I…” He shook his head. He’d never been especially good with words, and words failed him now.

She laughed with joy that reflected his own. “I see I have you at a disadvantage.”

“And I fear you will have me that way for the rest of our days.”

He pulled her closer and bent to meet her lips with his, and knew she would always have him at a disadvantage. And knew as well she was his love, his life, and would be, for now and forever, for him and him alone, the only lady in question.

About the Author

New York Times
-bestselling author
Victoria Alexander
was an award-winning television reporter until she discovered fiction was much more fun than real life. She turned to writing full time and has never looked back. Her Avon romances include:
The Pursuit of Marriage, The Lady in Question, Love
with the Proper Husband, Her Highness, My Wife, The Prince’s Bride, The Husband List, The
Marriage Lesson,
and
The Wedding Bargain.

Victoria grew up traveling the country as an Air Force brat and is now settled in Omaha, Nebraska, with her husband, two teenaged children, and a bearded collie named Sam. She firmly believes housework is a four-letter word, there are no calories in anything eaten standing up, procrastination is an art form, and it’s never too soon to panic.

And she loves getting mail that doesn’t require a return payment. Write to her at: P.O. Box 31544, Omaha, NE 68131.

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Avon Romances
by Victoria Alexander

The Pursuit of Marriage

The Lady in Question

Love with the Proper Husband

Her Highness, My Wife

The Prince’s Bride

The Husband List

The Marriage Lesson

The Wedding Bargain

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. THE LADY IN QUESTION.

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First Avon Books paperback printing: December 2003

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