Then came you, by lisa kleypas.txt Read online

  Alex resolved the problem by offering to compensate the tenants for their damaged crops if they would restrict their illegal poaching—which they refused to admit doing in the first place. In the meanwhile, he'd had meetings with some of the district agents for his Buckinghamshire property, discussing their rent collecting and other aspects of estate management.

  "You should appoint a full-time steward," Lily had remarked to him after eavesdropping on some of the discussions.

  "Other men of your position do."

  "I know how to manage my own affairs," Alex said brusquely.

  "Of course." Lily had given him a flippant smile. "You prefer to do everything yourself. You'd probably like to go and personally collect rent from each of your tenants, if you could but find the time. I'm rather amazed you don't sweep and polish the floors

  in the mansion and knead the bread dough in the kitchen—why appoint a servant to do it, when you're perfectly able?"

  Alex had snapped at her to mind her own business, and she'had called him a medieval tyrant.

  Privately, he had considered her point. Much of the work he did could be handled just as well by subordinates. But what if

  he did manage to make more time for himself; what would he do? Spend it with Penelope? Although they were perfectly

  civil to each other, he and Penelope found no great enjoyment in each other's company.

  There were the options of gaming, hunting, parties, and politics in London. It all seemed a great bore. Alex supposed he

  could renew some old friendships. In the past two years he had avoided the company of his closest acquaintances, especially those who had known Caroline and expressed sympathy over her death. Alex hadn't been able to stand the pity in their eyes.

  Frustrated, moody, Alex went to visit Penelope, who clung to her mother like a shadow. He tried to converse with them, drinking a cup of the tepid tea they offered. Shyly Penelope glanced at him while she did embroidery-work on a tambour frame, drawing colored silk through fabric using a delicate hook. She looked maidenly and refined as her soft hands moved deftly over the white muslin. After a few minutes in the cloying atmosphere, he escaped with a mutter about needing to do

  more work.

  The sound of laughter and shuffling cards echoed from the long gallery. Curiously he went to investigate. Alex's first thought

  was that Henry had a friend visiting. Two small figures were sitting cross-legged on the polished floor, playing cards. One of

  them was clearly Henry's square-shouldered form. But the other . . . the other . . . Alex scowled as he recognized her. Not

  only was Lily dressed in her raspberry breeches, she had borrowed one of Henry's shirts and vests. Purposefully Alex strode

  to the gallery, intending to upbraid her for the wildly inappropriate attire. As he reached them, his eyes flickered over Lily, and

  he swallowed hard. The way she was sitting, the breeches were stretched tautly over her thighs and knees, showing the slim shape of her legs.

  God help him, she was the most distracting woman he had ever met. In his time he had known many seductive females, had

  seen them dressed and undressed, in sumptuous evening gowns and in gauzy wisps of nothing, naked in the bath, in French

  silk undergarments tied with narrow ribbons. But nothing had ever tantalized like the sight of Lily Lawson in breeches.

  Alex felt his color deepening, his body tightening, filling with arousal. Desperately he struggled to bring an image of Penelope

  to mind. When that failed, he searched deeper for a memory of Caroline. But he couldn't see Caroline's face . . . hell, he could barely remember it ... there were only the points of Lily's knees, the top of her curly dark head, the nimble movements of her fingers as she fanned a deck of cards. It was a battle to keep his breathing regular. For the first time he couldn't recall the exact sound of Caroline's voice or the shape of her face ... it was all drowned in a soft haze. His traitorous senses were drawn to Lily, whose vibrant beauty was the focus of all the light in the gallery.

  Lily acknowledged Alex with a brief glance. Her shoulders tensed as she waited for some negative remark. When none was forthcoming, she continued her demonstration. Expertly she cut and riffled the cards. "Now look, Henry," she said. "Just push

  this group of cards straight through the other group . . . and they come out the same as before . . . and you see? The ace is

  still on the bottom."

  Henry laughed and took the deck to practice the maneuver.

  Alex watched the boy finger the cards. "Do you know what they do to card cheats?" he asked.

  "Only to bad ones," Lily replied, before the boy could reply. "Good ones are never caught." She indicated a space on the floor

  next to them, as graciously as a lady offering a chair in an elegant parlor. "Care to join us, my lord? I'll have you know I'm breaking one of my strictest rules by teaching your brother my best tricks."

  Alex lowered himself to the floor beside her. "Should I be grateful?" he asked dryly. "Turning my brother into a cheat ..."

  Lily grinned at him. "Certainly not. I merely want this poor lad to be aware of the ways in which other people could take advantage of him."

  Henry exclaimed in self-disgust as his fingers slipped and the cards scattered over the floor.

  "That's all right," Lily said, leaning over to scoop up the cards. "Practice, Henry. You'll have it in no time."

  Alex couldn't stop himself from staring at Lily's neatly rounded bottom as she industriously collected the scattered deck. A

  new flood of response went through him, turning the surface of his skin hot. He pulled the edges of his coat together over

  his lap. He should get to his feet and walk away this very instant. But instead he stayed in the sunlit gallery, sitting on the

  floor near the most maddening woman he had ever known.

  Henry shuffled the cards together. "What about my tutor, Alex?"

  Alex dragged his attention from Lily. "I haven't found anyone suitable yet."

  "Good," the boy said emphatically. "The last one looked like a frig-pig."

  Alex frowned. "A what?"

  Lily leaned toward Henry conspiratorially. "Henry, don't use the new words Auntie Lily taught you until Alex is gone."

  Without thinking, Alex caught hold of Lily's slim upper arm. "Miss Lawson, you're aptly demonstrating all the reasons I didn't

  want you near him." Startled by his touch, Lily glanced at him quickly, expecting a cold frown. Instead she saw a rueful, boyish smile that caused her heart to give an extra little thump. How odd, that making him smile would give her such a sense of accomplishment. Her brown eyes laughed into his, and she directed another comment to Henry.

  "Do you know why your brother hasn't found a tutor yet? He won't be satisfied until he's hired Galileo, Shakespeare, and

  Plato, all rolled into one. I do pity you, my boy."

  Henry screwed his face into an appalled grimace. "Alex, tell her it's not true!"

  "I have certain standards," Alex admitted, dropping his hand from Lily's arm. "Finding a qualified tutor is taking more time

  than I anticipated."

  "Why don't you let Henry choose?" Lily suggested. "You could attend to your other business while he conducts the

  interviews. Then he would present his choice for your approval."

  Alex snorted sardonically. "I'd like to see what kind of tutor Henry would choose."

  "I believe he would be quite responsible in his decision. Besides, it's going to be his tutor. I think he should have some

  say in it."

  Henry appeared to consider the question thoughtfully. His blue eyes met Alex's. "I'd pick a smashing one, Alex, damn me

  if I wouldn't."

  The idea was unorthodox. On the other hand, the responsibility might be good for Henry. He supposed there would be no harm in trying it. "I'll consider it," Alex said gruffly. "But the ultimate approval will be mine."

/>   "Well," Lily said in satisfaction. "It appears you can be reasonable at times." She took the cards from the boy, shuffled them deftly, and placed the deck on the floor. "Would you care to cut, my lord?"

  Alex stared at her intently. He wondered if this was how she looked in Craven's club, her brown eyes gleaming with a mischievous invitation, her slim hand pushing back the curls that dangled on her forehead. She would never be a demure, proper wife to anyone. She would be an engaging playmate with the wiles of a courtesan, a combination of gambling sharp

  and hellcat . . . she was a hundred different things, none of which he needed. "What's the game?" he asked.

  "I'm instructing Henry on the finer points of vingt-et-un." A challenging grin appeared on her lovely face. "Do you consider yourself competent at the game, Wolverton?"

  Slowly he reached for the deck and cut it. "Deal."

  Chapter 5

  Lily discovered with consternation that Alex was adept at cards. More than adept. In order to beat him, it was necessary for

  her to cheat. She used the pretext of giving further instructions to Henry in order to peek surreptitiously at the top card of the deck. Occasionally she dealt seconds, or from the bottom. Once or twice she used special shuffling to stack the deck, something she had learned from Derek after hours of practice in front of a mirror. If Alex was suspicious he kept his silence . . . that was, until the game was nearly over.

  "Now this," Lily said to Henry during the last hand, "is a two-way hand, in which the ace could either be valued at one or eleven. Your best strategy is to try for a high count. If that doesn't work, value the ace at one."

  Following her directions, Henry flipped a card and grinned in satisfaction. "Twenty," he said. "No one can beat that."

  "Unless," Alex remarked dryly, "Miss Lawson somehow produces a natural."

  Warily Lily glanced at him, wondering if he had caught on to her cheating. He must have. There could be no other explanation

  for his resigned expression. With a few flicks of her fingers, the last card was dealt and the game concluded. "Henry wins that hand." she said cheerfully. "Next time we'll play for money, Henry."

  "Not a chance in hell," Alex said.

  Lily laughed. "Don't get in a foam about it, Wolverton. I only intended to wager a shilling or two, not bilk the poor boy out of

  his inheritance."

  Henry stood up and stretched with a faint groan. "Next time let's play at a table, sitting on chairs," he suggested. "This floor

  is bloody hard!"

  Alex looked at him with immediate concern. "How are you?"

  "I'm fine." Henry smiled as he understood Alex's worry. "It's fine, Alex. Really."

  Alex nodded, but Lily noticed the same troubled expression in his pale eyes that had been there the night before. It remained

  even after Henry left with a rather stiff gait. "What is it?" Lily asked. "Why did you ask Henry—"

  "Miss Lawson," Alex interrupted, rising to his feet and reaching down for her. "I've never seen a woman cheat with such skill."

  She was momentarily diverted. "Years of practice," she admitted modestly.

  Suddenly Alex grinned, amused by her complete lack of shame. His white teeth flashed in his golden face. Taking her small

  hand in his, he pulled her to her feet. He slid a quick glance down her slim body. "I suppose it was necessary for you to win against a twelve-year-old boy?"

  "That wasn't my purpose. You were the one I wanted to beat."

  "Why?"

  That was a good question. It shouldn't have mattered whether she won or lost a game with him. Uncomfortably Lily returned

  his silvery stare, heartily wishing she could stay indifferent to him. "It just seemed the thing to do."

  "It might be interesting to try an honest game someday," he remarked. "If you're capable of it."

  "Let's play at honesty right now, my lord. The loser must answer any question the winner poses." Deftly she cast two cards

  on the floor, one coming to rest faceup at his feet. A seven. The other card settled in front of her. A queen.

  Alex surveyed Lily's down-bent head as she glanced at the cards. She was standing close to him. Suddenly he imagined

  clasping her head in his hands, dipping his face down to crush his mouth and nose into her sable curls, breathing in her perfume, her skin ... he imagined sinking to his knees, pulling her hips forward until he was lost in the warmth of her body. Feeling himself begin to flush and tauten, he tried to banish the forbidden image from his mind. He struggled for self-discipline. When she looked up at him, he was certain she would be able to recognize the shameful turn of his thoughts. Strangely, she seemed to notice nothing.

  "Another?" Lily asked. He nodded. She took the top card from the deck with exaggerated care and dropped it to the floor.

  A ten.

  "Stay," he said.

  With a flourish Lily drew the next card for herself, and grinned as she saw it was a nine. "I win, Wolverton. Now tell me why you looked so worried for Henry just now—no, tell me why you brought him home from school. Was it his marks? Is he having—"

  "That's three questions so far," Alex interrupted sardonically. "And before I answer, I want to know why you're so interested."

  "I like the boy," Lily replied with dignity. "I'm asking out of sincere concern."

  He considered that. It was possible she was telling the truth. She and Henry did seem to get along well together. "It wasn't

  his marks," he said brusquely. "Henry was in some trouble. Tardiness, mischief, the usual things. The headmaster 'disciplined'

  him ..." Alex's jaw hardened.

  "Flogging?" Lily stared at his averted face. His features were especially harsh at that angle, giving him the appearance of

  a golden satyr. "That's why he walks so stiffly at times. It was bad, wasn't it?"

  "Yes, it was bad." His voice was gruff. "I wanted to kill Thornwait. I still do."

  "The headmaster?" In spite of her loathing of anyone who could commit such cruelty against a child, Lily almost pitied the man. She suspected Thornwait would not get off lightly for what he'd done.

  "Henry retaliated by lighting a pile of gunpowder underneath Thornwait's front door," Alex continued.

  Lily laughed at that. "I would have expected no less of him!" Her amusement died quickly as she studied Alex's implacable

  face. "But you're disturbed about something else ... it must be ... that Henry didn't tell you about what had been happening?"

  She read the answer in his silence.

  All at once she understood. Alex, with his unreasonable sense of responsibility for everyone and everything, would take all the blame upon himself. Obviously he doted on the boy. This would be the perfect opportunity for her to twist the knife and make

  him feel worse than he already did. Instead she found herself trying to ease his guilt.

  "I'm not surprised," she said matter-of-factly. "Most boys of Henry's age are extremely proud, you know. Don't try to claim

  that you weren't when you were young. Of course Henry would try to handle things himself. He wouldn't want to run to you

  like a child. From what I've observed, that is the way boys think."

  "What would you know about boys?" he muttered.

  She gave him a chiding glance. "It's not your fault, Raiford, much as you'd like to shoulder the blame. You have too much of

  a conscience—it nearly matches the size of your ego."

  "What I need is a lecture from you about conscience," he said caustically. But he looked at her without the usual animosity,

  and the pale gray depths of his eyes caused a strange feeling to ripple through her. "Miss Lawson ..." He gestured to the

  deck she held. "Would you care to play another hand of truth?"

  "Why?" Smiling, Lily flipped another couple of cards to the floor. "What question would you like to ask, my lord?"

  He continued to stare at her. Lily had the startling
feeling that even though they were standing apart, he was touching her. He wasn't, of course, but still she had the suffocated sensation that plucked notes of warning in her memory . . . yes, she had

  felt this way with Giuseppe . . . threatened . . . dominated.

  Alex ignored the pretext of the cards, the game, and watched her intently. "Why do you hate men?"

  He couldn't stop himself from asking. The curiosity had built with every word he had heard her speak, every wary glance she

  had given him, her father, even Zachary. She kept a distance between herself and every man that came near. With Henry, however, Lily was different. Alex could only surmise that Henry was too young for Lily to consider a threat. His instincts told