Chapter 17 #2
“Of my courtship with Lady Alaina?” Graham finished, waving away Christopher’s look of concern before continuing on. “I think you are in more danger of besmirching her reputation yourself.”
Christopher felt chagrined. His actions were certainly ruled by lust, with no care of who saw. A few moments of silence passed between the gentlemen, before Graham gave in.
“Will you ask her to marry you already? Lord knows after tonight you want to.”
“But I had everything planned out, that after the appropriate time…” Christopher started.
“Appropriate timing be damned! Besides, whenever did life work out as expected?” Graham chuckled.
“You are right, of course,” chimed Christopher, and then he could not help but to tease, “besides, I would not want you getting any ideas.”
“Do not you worry about me, old friend, though I cannot vouch for others,” Graham responded, a bit miffed.
“Oh, I was only kidding,” Christopher threw his arm around his friend.
Graham grunted, “I know that, but do not forget that it was supposed to be my nuptials we were celebrating. Not that I think things did not work out as they were supposed to, but they certainly did not work out according to my plans.”
“And for that I am sorry,” Christopher said quietly. The men continued through the misty night in silence, each in his own thoughts.
The next morning, Alaina awakened slowly with a smile on her face, remembering the words uttered by Christopher the night before, or really, earlier that very morning.
Light streamed through the window just across from her bed, where Alaina had received the declaration of love, albeit a bit awkwardly, and quite unorthodox, with Graham present.
Her dreamy smile turned to a furrowed brow and a deflated mouth. Christopher had declared his love in an intoxicated state and had even admitted as much. How did he ever think such a thing was appropriate?
Alaina heaved a sigh and threw the covers off, crossing to the fireplace to stoke the embers and place a log or two on the newly generated flames.
It was still early, and Alaina felt it unnecessary to ring for a servant to rebuild the fire when she was completely capable.
Besides, she wanted some time alone with her thoughts before readying for whatever day it was going to be.
Christopher had promised to call this morning after breakfast when they were at the ball last night.
Alaina had imagined a nice walk through Hyde Park or something of the like to give the young couple some modicum of privacy.
Now she had doubts that he would show at all.
Given the state she had seen him in last night, Alaina would not be surprised if Christopher had to sleep the morning away or at least lie abed recovering.
And then what would she tell her parents?
What if he did not even send word with an excuse?
Pulling a blanket from the bed and curling up in the wingback chair by the fire, Alaina contemplated all the possible outcomes of the upcoming day.
Christopher could have regrets at speaking his words of love in that manner, or altogether.
Or worse, Christopher could have forgotten the interlude altogether.
After what felt like an eternity, Alaina settled it in her mind that whatever the day may bring, she would need to look her best, so she got up her resolve and rang for her lady’s maid.
A few streets over, quite a bit later in the morning, Christopher groaned as he peeled his eyelids open to glare at a strip of late morning sun.
He must have been careless in drawing the drapes last night, which was not surprising, given the revelry he had partaken in and the late hour he had returned home.
Bits and snippets of the night assailed him in rapid succession; the ball, the erotic kiss on the balcony, the near miss in getting caught, the time at White’s club with Graham, and their walk home after, with one very memorable detour.
Christopher groaned again, pulling the covers over his head even if the current source of his frustration was not the offending sliver of light.
What had he been thinking? Christopher had no doubt of his feelings for Alaina, but was a little taken aback at how he had gone about telling her, and in front of Graham, no less. What must they think of him? His only hope was to make amends to Alaina as soon as possible.
Sitting up in bed, Christopher looked around his room.
His head was hurting but still swimming in the libations of the previous evening, his stomach just a bit uneasy.
Christopher took stock of his surroundings, noticing his boots strewn carelessly on the floor.
Other than his shoes, Christopher was wearing the same clothes of the previous night, his cravat and shirt loosened and disheveled, his coat wrinkled and a bit constricting.
On his night table, he noticed a glass filled with some vile looking liquid, on top of a quick note.
Easing off the side of the bed, Christopher gingerly made his way to the nightstand and lifted the glass, catching a strong whiff of alcohol before quickly setting it aside.
He imagined the taste of the green liquid would test his stomach almost as much as the smell.
Picking up the small piece of paper, he could make out Graham’s scribble, truly amazed that after all these years his handwriting had improved so little.
Baldwin said you were “indisposed” when I stopped by this morning. Since it is such an important day, I told him to make you this to clear your head, or at least the contents of your stomach.
-G
P.S. Good luck today!
Christopher could almost see the crooked, pitying yet mocking, smile of his childhood friend, accompanied by an innocent shrug of the shoulders.
Afraid of missing out on calling on Alaina before the lunch hour, judging by the light streaming in, Christopher considered the glass of noxious fluid.
He sighed and picked up the glass, certain it would either save his day or ruin it, and downed the liquid in one gulp, with only a slight grimace and shudder as accompaniment.
Christopher took a deep breath to await the effects and was surprised there was no immediate illness.
Feeling a bit more confident, he made his way to the bell string to ring for his manservant, but stopped dead in his tracks and reversed course with eyes wide.
A few quick steps to the thankfully clean chamber pot saw his stomach contents evacuated.
Leaning his head back against the wall, after slumping to the floor next to the chamber pot, he finally felt steady enough to mentally curse his friend. What a way to start the day.
After a surprisingly short time, Christopher found himself walking briskly toward Alaina’s family home, a few blocks over from his own family townhome.
The turnaround after the illness had been remarkable and Christopher had been quick to bathe and dress in new clothes, hoping he no longer smelled of cigars and brandy.
The fog from the previous night had burned off at first light and the day was bright, with amazingly clear skies.
The weather was still chilly, but the warmth from the sun held a promise of the coming spring.
Christopher turned the last corner onto Berkeley Street and saw his destination up ahead, just a few houses further on the left.
His eagerness to see Alaina was met with regret of the encounter the previous night, his steps slowing as he traversed the final distance.
Christopher ascended the front stoop of the Norwich townhome and rapped the knocker on the door.
The hour was just shy of eleven, and he hoped he had not come too late.
The Norwich family butler, Arthur, stuck his head out of the door, and upon recognizing the marquess, opened the door fully to allow Christopher to enter. Doffing his hat, gloves, and outer cloak, Christopher handed them to Arthur, who, sensing the young man’s nerves, smiled ever so slightly.
“I assume you are here to call on Lady Alaina?” Arthur asked, not needing or expecting an answer other than an affirmation.
Christopher nodded his head and then thought better of it. “Yes, I mean, no, at least not right away. Perhaps Lord Sinclair is available first?”
The butler gave an amused snort, a bit out of character, but he really could not help himself. “The earl is working on his books and told me he does not wish to be disturbed until after lunch. Lady Alaina is in the front parlor, if you would like to see her.”
And, as if Arthur could conjure Lady Alaina by speaking her name, she appeared at the door of the parlor, just past the foot of the stairs. “Hello Christopher. Should I feel miffed that you came to see my father and not me?”
Christopher met Alaina’s stare and was surprised to find it reflected the same worries he felt, even if she had tried to infuse a teasing tone into her statement.
Alaina looked just as he had remembered in his dreams. Her hair was swept up in a simple loose collection of perfect curls on the crown of her head, tendrils escaping around her temples, making her look more like a nymph, especially with the light from the parlor at her back.
She was dressed in a simple day dress, cream colored with green brocade accents on the shoulders, wrists, and around the waist. Christopher thought she would look perfectly at home in a spring garden, and with only a few weeks to warmer weather, he smiled, able to conjure up such a vision.
With the most fervent hope that he had not been silent too long, Christopher walked toward Alaina.
“My dear Alaina, I had hoped to see you just the same, but thought it might be prudent if I talked to your father first.”
Alaina furrowed her brow in confusion, and then a thought entered her mind, making her smile, partly in joy, and partly in chagrin for being so dense; at least she hoped he meant to discuss the subject of marriage with her father.
Alaina backed into the parlor to allow Christopher to enter.
As Christopher passed Alaina to enter the room, her scent, a mix of soap and roses, washed over him, causing a familiar clenching in his belly as he relived their passionate kiss from the previous evening.
A quick marriage was maybe best; his friend certainly had not been wrong about that.
Arthur poked his head into the parlor, keeping his amused stare as muted as possible. “I will let your father know that the marquess has arrived, although he did say not to disturb him until after lunch.”
At this statement the butler closed the door most of the way, leaving only a sliver open to the hallway: a way to keep within the bounds of propriety while giving the couple some privacy.
Christopher looked at Alaina in surprise. “Are you sure that leaving the door like that will not make your parents angry?”
Alaina shook her head and came to stand squarely in front of Christopher, who stood in front of the fireplace.
The placement of a pair of chairs close to the fire meant Alaina had to stand close to Christopher to look at him, or at least his chest. Christopher looked down at her, her head upturned, and seemed ensnared by the deep brown eyes that looked warm and inviting in the light.
Christopher, feeling his attention driving to thoughts of more fun exploits than a conversation about his embarrassing display, cleared his throat and tried to start. “I had hoped… I would like …”
Christopher was unable to muster the right words and averted his gaze, but Alaina was undeterred. “What do you want, Christopher?” she said in almost a whisper.
As Christopher met her gaze, all he could think of was the vision that filled his heart. “You, my love. Ever since you flayed me at the refreshment table.”
Each of them stood there, entranced by the other, Alaina amazed at what she felt and could see in the depths of Christopher’s steel-blue eyes.
Without much thought to the surroundings, Christopher took one step toward Alaina, closing the remaining distance between them.
Alaina could feel Christopher’s breath at her temple, and he could feel the heat of her body. He ached to gather her in his arms.
With Christopher’s height, Alaina had to crane her neck to meet his eyes, ever-changing like the sea.
Her mind was a tumble of thoughts, the first being the feeling of the kiss they shared last night.
Alaina could feel her heart in her ears; a warm feeling washed over her.
Christopher leaned in and Alaina’s heart leapt as their lips connected in a soft touch, Christopher just brushing his lips on hers.
Alaina’s hands moved up to his neck without thought, causing her to lean into his body.
Only one statement escaped her lips, “Me, huh?”
No verbal response came from Christopher, as his response to her question was to crush her to him, his lips turning to allow a deeper connection, his tongue tracing her lips.
The couple did not hear the faint approach outside the door, but snapped apart as the door hit the wall and reverberated, opened rather forcefully by Alaina’s father, Edward.
The butler stood just behind with a look of chagrin, almost apologetic.
Edward considered the two young people, obviously having just disengaged from a very improper kiss, and tried to keep his mirth hidden.
They would certainly be married, but he knew it was expected to have some self-righteous anger.
“So, I hear you needed a word with me, marquess? It seems I may be too late in my ability to object.”
And with that, Edward strode into the room and closed the door, Alaina and Christopher giving each other sheepish smiles.