January 2, 1829
The day after her declaration of independence, Alice Caruthers dressed for dinner with extra care. She’d chosen her favorite blue gown because it gave her confidence. She wanted to appear calm and collected when she met her parents at dinner, even though this was hardly how she felt. But she’d hidden in her room for over twenty-four hours, feigning illness and having trays delivered, and enough was enough. To continue to isolate herself just made her look weak. If she were going to be truly independent, then she would have to grow accustomed to her parents’ disdain.
And she was sure it was disdain that they would show. She’d failed in her one appointed task in life. She assumed they’d now learned that Drew would definitely not be marrying her.
If she’d known this was what he wanted to talk about, she would have made herself available when Drew came by her room earlier in the day. But she’d refused him entry. Perhaps she secretly feared that he had finally come up to scratch. If this were the case, it was too late. She’d unilaterally made her decision to live independently. She refused to acknowledge that her inability to confront Drew didn’t do much to support her vision of the new, stronger Alice.
Since she wouldn’t meet with him, she’d received a carefully worded note from Drew. He assured her that while he thought she was all that was admirable in a lady, his affection had become fixed elsewhere.
She should have been devastated. Or at least angry that Drew had pretended an interest for so long. But she couldn’t conjure these emotions. What she primarily felt was relief, and this relief quickly evolved into a wild surge of joy. She was free. A life of her own choosing lay before her.
And now she needed to show all those present that this was the case.
She swept into the drawing room prior to the dinner bell, prepared to meet her parents eye-to-eye, and found the room curiously empty. Only the three oldest Dabney daughters and their spouses were present.
Lord Chesterton was the first to notice her arrival, and he came across the room to greet her with an engaging smile. This was not the reaction she’d anticipate. She’d steeled herself for pity and commiseration. To discover there was none confused her.
“Ah, here is one of our patients. I hope this means that whatever mysterious malady has stuck down half the household is short lived,” Chesterton said.
“Excuse me?” Alice had no idea what Lord Chesterton was talking about.
Lady Chesterton, the former Lady Harriet Dabney, joined her husband. “Didn’t you realize that you were not the only one to become ill? Your parents and my parents, as well as Beth, Drew, and you, of course, were all absent from dinner last night and have been recuperating in their rooms all of today. I’ll admit that Chesterton and I feared something we ate on New Year’s Eve was tainted. Mother insists on offering those odd-tasting, Hogmanay dishes, so it’s impossible to tell if the food has gone bad. But since we all were served the same thing, that didn’t seem likely.”
“I was more indisposed than actually ill,” Alice said, giving Lady Chesterton a significant look and hoping she assumed Alice had female problems. That explanation was more palatable than admitting she was upset because of an argument with her mother. “I have no idea what ails the others.”
What had kept the others in their rooms? She wondered if Drew had spoken to both sets of parents before approaching her. That would have caused an acute upset. But from the behavior of those now awaiting dinner, the story of Drew’s betrothal to someone else had evidently not made it to all the household. Alice felt no curiosity or pity coming from those assembled. Their only concern had been for her health—probably prompted in equal parts by concern for their own.
“You’re in good looks tonight,” Lord Chesterton said. “Anyone looking at you could tell that you hadn’t been felled by something dreadful.”
Alice took the portly earl’s comment as a compliment. She was sure it was meant as one, although looking as if one were not on death’s door didn’t necessarily translate into looking attractive.
“Oh, good, Lord Hayhurst is here.” Lady Chesterton said, immediately hurrying in the direction of the new arrival.
“Was he also at dinner last night?” Alice asked.
“Most definitely,” Lord Chesterton said. “He kept us all well-entertained with his droll accounts of his activities in Greece.”
Alice turned to look where Lady Chesterton and one of her sisters were in animated conversation with Martin. They both beamed up at him like debutants fascinated by a handsome man. Of course, it had been years since either of the Dabney sisters were debutants, but there was no doubt that Martin Tate was the most handsome man in the room. He would draw women of any age.
During that distant Christmastide, when Alice thought Martin might be paying her court, she’d found him attractive, but his allure was nothing like what he now possessed. He seemed to have finally grown into his bones and skin. It was not just that his physique had broadened. He was now more completely there. Before, there was something elusive and shadowy about him. He’d easily been eclipsed by Drew’s bright sparkle. That certainly wouldn’t happen anymore.
And then, he looked over the heads of the ladies surrounding him to stare straight into Alice’s eyes. He flashed her a bright smile—and the room seemed to tilt in his direction. She placed her hand on the back of a chair to anchor her in place, to keep her from being drawn to him like iron filings to a magnet. It was the most extraordinary experience.
“I think we should go in to dinner,” Lady Chesterton said. As the most senior lady there, she had evidently taken it upon herself to make the decision.
“We are small in number again,” Lord Chesterton said, offering Alice his arm. “I can only hope we’re not seeing the beginning of a contagion.”
Martin tried to keep from staring at Alice during dinner. He’d wanted to sit next to her, but she’d been standing on the other side of the room when Harriet had decided it was time to eat. So he’d led in two of the former Dabney sisters, with the others trailing behind. Alice had ended up a few seats down, their diminished group occupying only one end of the table, but she sat on the opposite side where he could easily observe her.
Paul had come in at the last moment and was seated next to her. Lucky Paul, who was the recipient of her attention. Alice wore a blue dress that shimmered in the candlelight like the wings of a dragonfly. The color accented her sea-blue eyes and porcelain complexion. Her face was mobile, all quick smiles and arched brows. Were they discussing insects? It seemed unlikely. Perhaps she was plying Paul with more questions on foreign travel. Martin strained to hear snippets of the conversation.
“From a rather ungainly, coltish beginning, Alice Caruthers has grown into a most elegant lady,” Harriet, Lady Chesterton said from his right. His attention in Alice’s direction had obviously not been as surreptitious as he had hoped. “She will make a fine countess and eventual marchioness.”
Martin hid his surprise and bit his lip to keep from saying, “That isn’t going to happen.” Those at the house party evidently had no idea that Drew’s affections had pulled him elsewhere. At least those who were present. Martin suspected the missing members of the party were very conscious of the fact and that this was the cause of their malady.
From her behavior, he assumed that Alice too knew nothing about Drew’s reneging on their tentative understanding. He was disgusted his friend—perhaps now former friend—hadn’t had the backbone to tell Alice she would never be the Countess of Morrell. Martin hoped she would not be crushed by the news. But after all this time, she had to know something was wrong with Drew’s relationship with her. Martin wanted her freed from the prospect of a sterile marriage, but he had never wanted her to be hurt.
“I find Miss Caruthers too lively, too elemental, to be categorized as elegant, but perhaps we each see what we are looking for,” Martin replied.
Harriet gave him a baffled look, and switched the conversation to the cold weather and the difficulty in heating large rooms. Martin made a concerted effort not to look at Alice.
Dinner seemed to last forever.
Finally, they were released to wander back to the drawing room en masse. Martin pretended to misunderstand Lord Chesterton’s suggestions that he join a whist table and sought Alice out instead. She was still in earnest conversation with Paul. Or rather, Paul was still talking and Alice was looking interested.
“Miss Caruthers,” Martin unrepentantly interrupted Paul’s monologue, “would you care to stroll a bit. I was thinking perhaps the long gallery would be nice. We can enjoy the moonlight on the snow from the windows.”
“It will be cold in there,” Paul said.
“I’ll ring for a warm wrap then.” Alice bestowed a brilliant smile on Paul and left to call her maid.
Paul raised one eyebrow. He obviously was another inheritor of that damned family trait. “You’re not thinking of poaching on a private preserve, are you?”
“Not if it were truly private,” Martin said. “I understand the area in question is now open to the public, and I plan to stake a claim before this becomes general knowledge.” Paul puffed up like a disgruntled hedgehog. Martin hoped the younger man wasn’t about to suggest pistols at dawn. “Perhaps you should talk to your brother,” he hastily added.
And then, blessedly, Alice returned swathed in a heavy tan shawl. While it added nothing to her ensemble, it did look warm. She took his arm, and they hastily exited the room.
“Thank you for the rescue,” she said, once they were in the hall. “Paul is a dear boy, but I’d quite exhausted all the enthusiasm I could muster about varieties of mantises. They sound like the most predatory of insects, but Paul is enamored of them, particularly some that resemble flowers.”
Martin too had no interest in insects, but he was pleased to hear Alice refer to Paul as a “boy.” Paul was just a few years Alice’s junior, and she had seemed quite attentive during dinner. “I hope you don’t think me improper, whisking you away without a chaperone, but I’ve found I desperately need some exercise after being indoors for the past two days.”
Her laugh was soft and low and did strange things to the rhythm of his heartbeat. “If I thought you were a danger to my virtue, I would have insisted our resident entomologist accompany us.”
Martin didn’t know whether he was pleased with her trust or annoyed that Alice didn’t imagine he could be a danger to her virtue. He certainly wanted to be the latter—and had for some time.
“I think both of us are pleased to be spared Paul’s passion,” he said, “although it is nice to see a Dabney with a more intellectual bent.” And then he realized he may have offended her. She undoubtedly still thought she was marrying into the Dabney family. He could see no indication that Drew had spoken to her. It would be like his friend to avoid a confrontation. He’d been doing so for years.
“Yes, I do find the family to be passionless for the most part, at least in their outside interests. Paul is a delightful breath of fresh air in this area, and I suspect Beth also has a similar mindset.”
Alice sounded more thoughtful than offended. That was encouraging. But he could still not think of a way to introduce the subject of Drew and his wandering affections. He continued to mull over a way to approach this topic as they entered the long gallery
As anticipated, it was cold, but the moon coming through the bank of windows was brilliant on the snow, giving the area an eerie, otherworldly light. They stopped to admire the view outside. It seemed as good a time as any to broach the subject of Drew’s change of heart. He turned from the window to look directly at her.
“Did Drew—” he began just as she said, “Drew …”
They both stopped and chuckled. “Please go first,” he said.
She was silent a moment, as if reconsidering. Taking a deep breath, she said, “Drew wrote me a note saying that his affections were fixed elsewhere. I was wondering, as his friend, what you knew about this.”
The stupid ass! He’d written her a note? Disgust rolled through Martin. He could hardly make a comment to a lady about Drew’s lack of bollocks, but that’s all that immediately came to mind.
“I hope you weren’t terrible disappointed.” He steeled himself for tears.
“No, not disappointed. I was probably more relieved. But I am quite curious about the who and why. And judging from the dinner conversation, no one else knows about this.”
Martin hadn’t realized he’d been holding himself stiffly until her words caused his muscles to relax. Alice was relieved that Drew wasn’t going to offer for her. His own relief was dizzying. “Drew spoke with me last night, and I can only apologize that he didn’t accord you the same courtesy of a personal discussion.”
“Don’t think badly of Drew. He tried to talk with me. But I wasn’t receiving at the time, and that was the reason for the note. It was decidedly a note, however, and not a letter, and his brevity has left me with a myriad of questions.”
Honesty seemed the only approach. Well, perhaps honesty tempered with some less offensive phrasing. “Drew imagines himself in love with a girl named Sylvia Turnbull. She’s the daughter of Charles Turnbull, the Staffordshire pottery manufacturer. I’ve never met her, so that’s about all I can tell you.” He certainly wasn’t going to mention that Miss Turnbull was now wearing a ring that had been purchased for Alice.
Alice nodded as if she’d expected this. “I haven’t met Miss Turnbull either, but in the past two years, her father has produced some limited edition figurines that are supposed to be modeled on his daughter. Shepherdesses, I think. But if they are truly representative of her appearance, she’s a beautiful blond with fine features and a rather impressive, eh, upper portion.” She then looked down and mumbled something that sounded like, “Young and beautiful. That’s what I expected.”
Martin put two fingers under her chin and turned her face up to look at his. “She couldn’t be more beautiful than you.”
She shook her head, but he cupped her chin with his hand and didn’t release her. “You don’t have to say that to make me feel better,” she said. “I know men don’t think of me in that way.”
“Well, the man standing in front of you thinks you’re beautiful, and he’s thought that for many years. And you have character and wit and humor—all those characteristics that enhance the physical beauty you already possess. I said as much when I asked your father for your hand, and my opinion has not changed.
He leaned forward just slightly and kissed her. It was a whispered brush of lips, a promise more than a real kiss, but it shook him to the core. This was what he wanted. Alice was what he hoped to have.
Martin kissed her.
Alice had expected many things of this evening, but she had not imaged that Martin Tate would kiss her. It was a very unsatisfactory kiss, however, over before it really began. Drew had kissed her a few times, and while those kisses hadn’t made her toes curl as this one did, they had certainly lasted longer.
Almost without conscious thought, she reached up to the nap of Martin’s neck and pulled his mouth back to hers. This time he met her with more purpose. His lips molded to hers with teasing caresses. He nibbled lightly on her bottom lip and then soothed the same place with a sweep of a velvet tongue.
Her lungs seemed to seize in her chest. She relaxed her mouth to draw a breath and Martin’s tongue slid in to stroke the inside of her cheeks, to bush her tongue, to tease her gums. Warmth like molten gold flowed through her veins. This was a kiss like she’d never had—and it was wondrous.
She leaned forward to place her body against his. She wanted to feel all of him. As if answering her unspoken desire, Martin’s arms circled her and pulled her even closer. Her suddenly sensitive breasts pressed against his broad chest. One of his hands moved tantalizingly up and down her back until it settled on her buttocks and pulled tight against him there as well. The molten gold seemed to settle between her thighs, heavy and wet.
This is desire, she thought. Desire that she’d believed she would never feel. It pounded through her, making her want more. Martin made an odd, low growl and raised a hand to cup one of her breasts.
He thought her beautiful. She would not worry that she lacked the endowment to overflow the low neckline of her gown or that she was tall. Martin thought her beautiful. How amazing. And more importantly, he admired her inner qualities. He had for some time. Even before he’d asked her father for her hand.
The last reflection stilled everything within her. Martin had approached her father about marrying her? The shock brought her hands to his chest and she pushed back. He let her go, his arms loosening but still encircling her. He lowered his forehead to rest on hers. “I’m sorry,” he said, his breaths coming in pants. “I should not have taken advantage.”
She exerted a bit more pressure so she could look him in the face. His hands slid from her body, filling her with loss. “When? When did you talk to my father?” she asked.
“Five years ago. After he rejected my suit, I decided I needed a change of scene. I wanted to do something with my life and left for Greece. Didn’t he tell you?”
The knowledge was corrosive, like being covered in icy water that somehow burned. Five years! That Christmas, when Martin had seemed to court her, he had actually been doing so. His kindness, his consideration, had been in earnest. The compliments he’d paid her had been real. He had wanted to marry her and she’d never been told. She’d thought he’d simply floated away like other potential suitors.
“No, he never told me.” Alice was surprised her voice was steady. The anger surging through her left her feeling shaky. For all these years, she’d felt unattractive. She’d thought she had to buy friends through good works. She’d believed herself to be a failure.
And it had not been true.
Irritatingly, her eyes filled with tears. Martin ran a thumb over her cheek to catch an errant drop. “Oh, love, I didn’t mean any disrespect. I know I should not have kissed you …”
She placed her fingers over his lips. “I liked your kisses very much. I liked all of it. I’ve just had a shock. I can but wonder how different things would have been had my father told me. I—” Her voice broke, and she shook her head. “I need to consider what you’ve told me. But I will see you tomorrow, and we will talk some more.”
She captured his caressing hand and kissed it. Then she fled.