As they left the dining room and entered the vast, elegant entrance hall, Sebastian took hold of Lord Reginald Carpenter’s arm and brought him to a standstill.
Turning him gently, so that Lord Reginald faced the double staircase that floated up to a huge window on a landing, Sebastian said, “That’s him up there. Staring down at us. I look like him, don’t you think, Reggie?”
“You do indeed. In fact, the resemblance is quite remarkable. It might very well be a portrait of you, not of your grandfather.”
Laughter bubbled up in Sebastian’s throat and he nodded. “True. Except he was my great-grandfather, and I was named for him. I’ve probably inherited other characteristics from him, not only his looks.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve never told you about him before, but he was killed in a duel over a woman. And I’ve been rendered brainless by a woman I spent three minutes with. Let’s face it, my old friend, that’s not exactly normal, now, is it?”
Reginald half smiled and steered Sebastian toward the library, where he knew Bloom was waiting to serve them a nightcap. As they walked into the room together, Reginald said, “We’ll speak about that matter when we have drinks in our hands.”
The butler hurried forward. “What will be your pleasure, your lordship?”
“A Napoleon, please, Bloom.”
Looking at Sebastian, the butler said, “Will you have the same, sir?”
“Not tonight, thank you, Bloom. I rather fancy a Bonnie Prince Charlie.”
Bloom inclined his head and went over to the drinks table to pour the cognac and the liqueur into the correct glasses. Sebastian walked over to the fireplace and Reginald followed him, a thoughtful expression lurking in his eyes.
“It’s turned bloody cold,” Sebastian announced, standing with his back to the fire. “I can’t believe it will be August Bank Holiday this coming Monday. August the first.”
“Tempus fugit,” Reginald responded.
“Indeed. Time flies. And time is … endless.” A sigh escaped him as Sebastian continued, “I was somewhat taken aback a while ago, when you were speaking to Claudia. I hadn’t realized that women have been hurt, physically injured, for years by all that tight corseting.”
“I was partially aware of it. However, I only just realized how bad it is lately, because of the problems we’re having with Jasmine. I am delighted Claudia has agreed to come to visit us on Monday afternoon. I think my daughter will listen to her, rather than to her mother. You know what young women are like.”
“As a father I do, yes.”
The butler brought the two glasses to them on a silver tray. Reginald took the balloon of French cognac and Sebastian the small wineglass filled with Drambuie, a liqueur of Scottish heritage, supposedly a favorite of Bonnie Prince Charlie when he lived in Scotland as a fugitive. Hence its nickname.
The two friends touched glasses and sat down in the wing chairs facing the fireplace. The library had a mellow feeling to it on this Saturday evening. The logs burned brightly and the gas lamps added to the soft glow which pervaded the room.
It was filled with mahogany bookshelves and comfortable, rather masculine sofas and chairs. These were upholstered in varying shades of red, which repeated the reds in the Persian carpet. It was very much a room planned and designed for a man. In fact, Sebastian spent most of his spare time here, often working at the large Georgian partner’s desk near the window, or reading in front of the fire.
Both men were at ease with the long silences which often settled between them; they had been close since their early schooldays at Eton. They sipped their drinks, now caught up in their own thoughts for a while. But eventually Reginald swung his dark head and looked at Sebastian, cleared his throat, yet still remained silent.
“So go on, old chum, tell me that you agree with me … that I have no brains.” Reginald did not reply, and Sebastian looked over at him, added, “I’m bloody well daft in the head! I met a woman earlier today, was with her for only a few moments—”
“And you can’t get her out of your head, can’t stop thinking about her, want to see her again as soon as possible. Now. Immediately. At once.”
Staring at his most trusted friend, Sebastian could only nod his head for the moment. He took a swig of the Drambuie, and finally said, “That’s exactly how I feel.” He frowned. “How did you guess?”
Even as the words came out of his mouth, Sebastian remembered an incident which had happened to Reginald about ten years ago, and said in a low voice, “The Frenchwoman. That’s how you felt about her, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Fortunately for me, and my marriage, her husband suddenly arrived from Paris and took her off to Scotland to shoot grouse. And that was the end of that. The affair that never happened.”
Reginald shook his head wonderingly. “But when I really do think about meeting her, recall that incident precisely, those emotions come rushing back. But you’re not married and neither is Alexis, so you don’t have the problem I did.”
“That’s correct. But I’ve been given to understand that she is not interested in men, and—”
“That’s only hearsay. I’ve heard she’s not interested in marriage. But that doesn’t mean she might not want to have a dalliance … shall we call it.”
“I doubt that very much from what Claudia has said. Or do you know more about her than you’re saying?” Sebastian raised a brow.
Reginald shook his head, grimaced. “I don’t know any more than you do, and I wasn’t suggesting a sexual dalliance. I meant just going to dinners and events with a man, or to the theater, having male companionship. I wasn’t impugning the woman’s character.”
“I know that, Reggie.” Sebastian stared into the fire, thinking of the last ten years … the loneliness, the solitary life he had led …
Reginald leaned forward toward him and said in a low voice, “What you’ve been feeling tonight is not unusual, nor is it daft at all. You’re a perfectly normal, forty-year-old heterosexual man. You saw a woman you were instantly taken with, wanted, desired. All normal feelings. And I know better than anyone else how lost and lonely you’ve been these many years.”
“So what shall I do?”
“You’ve done it already.”
Sebastian frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You’re giving a supper on Thursday of this coming week. You’ve invited her. You invited me to come with Jane.”
“I know that,” Sebastian answered. “I mean how do I get through the next few days without seeing her?”
“I don’t know.”
Reginald sat thinking for a moment or two, and then exclaimed, “Why don’t you tell Claudia to ask her for tea tomorrow? Tell Claudia you want to give Alexis a donation to her charity. I bet it would work. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, as our schoolmaster used to tell us.”
Sebastian couldn’t help laughing at his reference to their teacher, and then he said, “Very clever of you to think of that, Reggie. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me.”
“I do,” Reginald responded swiftly, grinned at him. “You’ve been very busy pondering other things.”
“You’re right, I’m afraid. My mind has been elsewhere. I shall write a check for her charity, and I’m happy to do so, actually. It’s a good cause.”
“Make sure it’s a large one,” Reginald said, and lifted the brandy balloon to his mouth. Then he grimaced and looked across at Sebastian. “Listen, will Claudia go along with this … plan?”
“There’s no question in my mind about that. She has longed for me to become involved with someone, has actually encouraged me to think about getting married again. But I’m not sure about my other two girls. Claudia is very close, thinks like me and is wise beyond her years. Simply put, she wants me to be happy.”
“And so do I, my very dearest friend. Count me in. I’ll become your other collaborator, do anything I can to help you snare this particular lady.”
* * *
Sleep eluded him.
He spent endless hours twisting and turning, and finally, in frustration, he got out of bed. Pulling on a dressing gown and putting his feet in his slippers, Sebastian left his bedroom.
It was dark as he walked along the corridor, but once he came to the landing, brilliant moonlight shone through the huge glass window at the top of the double staircase, lighting his way. And what a moon it was. A perfect silver orb. A night for lovers, he mused as he went downstairs, across the hall, and into the library where the fire still flickered in the grate.
Lovers. What a thought! He hadn’t had a lover for years. Lowering himself into a wing chair, he leaned back and closed his eyes. Margot had been his love and his lover. How he had grieved for her, missed her, his lovely wife.
There had been one entanglement, of a sexual nature, and it had lasted two years. Yet it had been on and off, in a sense, since the lady in question was married and not always in his immediate vicinity.
Had they been lovers? Not really, not in the truest sense. “Sexual partners” might be a better way of describing their secret relationship. He had ended it because he had come to realize that his emotions were not involved, only a certain part of his body.
There was no cure for grief. You simply lived with it … until the years blurred the many images and remembered occasions. Memories lasted.
And the loneliness became a part of life, to be dealt with courageously, by filling one’s days with work, events, children’s needs, birthdays and Christmas, and summer holidays at the house in Kent.
He sat up straighter and opened his eyes, a smile flickering on his mouth. He would take her to Kent. She would love the house the way he did. He just knew it in his bones. Instinctively. She. Her. Alexis. A young woman he had only just met, and briefly at that, but whom he could not erase from his mind. And her image was there with him wherever he was in this house, like a ghost haunting him, tantalizing him.
Why? What was it about her? His daughter had said he had appeared to be mesmerized by Alexis. And that was true. Or perhaps blinded by the light and beauty that shone out of her was a better way of describing it. And thrilled, excited, and suddenly full of life, wanting to take her hand, run with her, be with her alone. Intimately.
Suddenly, unexpectedly, he knew what it was that she did to him. She made him feel alive for the first time in years … those years which he had sleepwalked through, alone.
This knowledge sent a shiver down his spine and he knew the truth and what to do. He must follow his instincts and make her his. Permanently. This was a woman who could give him what he needed to be a whole person again. And he would give himself to her completely, in a way he never had before. He and Margot had been closely woven together, but to be honest he had always held part of himself back … kept it hidden.
He believed and with great certainty that with Alexis Malvern he could open his heart and mind, could let her become a part of him. He smiled to himself. How wonderful it felt to be … alive.