Chapter 18 #2
Alix was nowhere to be seen. Rafe caught sight of Elizabeth with Louisa at her side chatting with two earnest-looking country squires and a fortune hunter.
Louisa waved her red-and-black fan as if to beckon him over, but Rafe kept moving.
He’d check on Elizabeth and Louisa later, he told himself, his eyes riveted on a flash of silver and blue weaving through the crowd.
Not so fast, my Lady Moreham, he thought as he quickened his pace, the beating of his heart drowning out the conversations swirling around him.
He barely avoided colliding with an outstretched hand holding a glass of champagne as he mentally reviewed the speech he would give Alix.
He ignored an attempt to hail him. He’d explain in a calm, rational manner that the marriage had been consummated and there was nothing left for her but to come home with him.
Sidestepping the flounce of a young lady’s skirt, he caught sight of her.
She was standing with a striking woman in black, whom he had no doubt was the comtesse, and the elegant figure of the Duchess of Melbourne.
Forcing himself to slow down, Rafe took a step toward the three women and found himself trapped by a red-faced man in a gray powdered wig.
“Moreham, old boy, been searching for you everywhere,” said the Honorable Elias Penworthy.
“Didn’t you see me wave? Framingham and I were just having a debate over whether white or ecru waistcoats will be the rage this season.
You simply must come and decide it for us. ”
The Comtesse Madeleine de Rabec de La Brou stood perusing the Kensington’s guests, her black lace fan drifting idly back and forth.
Her dark eyes narrowed, and she snapped it closed, wrapping Lady Melbourne lightly on the wrist. “That one, there in the apple green silk with the white powdered wig, who is he?”
Lady Melbourne followed the path of Madeleine’s gaze, shook her head ever so slightly.
“No, no Madame, not that one. He’s terrifically dull, can’t start or end a conversation that doesn’t include horses.
You’d have to wear horseshoes and a wreath in bed to get his attention.
” She twisted an elbow draped in blonde lace toward her right.
“See the one in the dark blue coat with the red-and-gold waistcoat, now there’s a gentleman on close terms with the Bank of England. ”
Madeleine frowned. “The one with the stooped shoulders, who looks like he might possibly be several months gone beneath his waistcoat?”
Lady Melbourne pressed two fingers to her lips to hold back her laughter and nodded. “The very one.”
Madeleine gave a mock shudder. “Mon Dieu, satin sheets and velvet coverlets are lovely, but not when they come with sagging flesh between them.”
“You are simply awful, Madeleine de La Brou, simply awful... you must promise you won’t leave Melbourne House before the end of the season.”
Madeleine flipped open her fan. “Mais certainement, if your season does not offer better than this, you may find me still with you in your dotage.” Her fan froze in mid-flutter. “Regardez-ca. Who is that delicious man there, all in black with the golden brown hair?
Lady Melbourne smiled. “I see you’ve noticed the Earl of Moreham.
Now there’s a prize. Not a bit of sawdust in his stockings, no padding in his jacket, and his fortune’s just as solid.
Quite elusive though. Over thirty and never married.
Last season it looked as though the Duke of Dinsmore’s daughter, Lady Anne, might finally have caught him in her nets.
” Lady Melbourne gave a slight shrug. “But before she could reel him in, the fish slipped away... to France, in fact.” She cast a conspiratorial glance at her friend.
“They say, he has a taste for French ladies... perhaps you or Mademoiselle Alix might have better luck.”
Madeleine nodded thoughtfully, the black plumes in her dark curls wafting in Rafe’s direction. “Alix, ma petite, what do you think of that handsome fellow all in black?”
Alix looked and almost dropped her glass of lemonade. “I beg your pardon, Maman?” she sputtered. “Did you say something? I confess I was caught up in the music.”
“Alix, don’t be ridiculous, the violas are quite out of tune; they sound like cats with their tails cut off. How can you possibly be distracted by them when such an attractive gentleman is looking our way?”
Alix looked again and saw that Rafe Harcrest was, indeed, looking at them over the heads of two stout gentlemen who looked to be in the midst of a heated debate.
“Well, what do you think, my dear, isn’t he positively delicious?”
“I suppose he’s handsome enough,” Alix conceded, thinking there ought to be a law against a man looking so sinfully attractive.
“Handsome enough,” her mother sniffed. “That must be your de La Brou half speaking. No appreciation for things of beauty. I don’t wish to speak disrespectfully of the deceased, but your father was the type of man who’d look at a sculpture of a Greek god and wonder why they didn’t put more clothes on the fellow. ”
Thinking like a de La Brou, indeed, Alix thought. Rafe could be wearing a great coat and still the image of his body, bronzed in the firelight, would rise up before her eyes. Her mouth went suddenly dry.
She looked again and saw that Rafe was striding toward them. She hastily swallowed the remainder of her lemonade, wishing desperately it were something stronger.
“Lady Melbourne,” Rafe said, “you are looking radiant as ever.”
“Moreham, how pleasant to see you.” They exchanged the requisite pleasantries.
“I might flatter myself that you have come to visit with me.” Lady Melbourne gave a mock sigh.
“Alas, I suspect like all the other gentlemen tonight you wish to meet my friends, the Comtesse de La Brou and her daughter, Mademoiselle de La Brou. Comtesse, mademoiselle, may I present His Lordship, Rafe Harcrest, the Earl of Moreham.”
“Delightful to meet you, my lord,” Madeleine said sweeping her skirts into a graceful curtsy.
“My lord,” Alix murmured dipping, her gray eyes watchful.
Rafe addressed Madeleine in French. “I would be honored if your daughter would join me in a dance.”
The Comtesse de La Brou smiled at him. “Your command of our language is admirable, my lord, but so long as we are guests of your gracious King George, we speak only English. I believe you will find my daughter’s knowledge of your tongue is impeccable.”
So the little hoyden spoke English!
He shot a glance at Alix, and she blushed. He should have known, what well-educated French aristocrat would not? What conversations had she overheard during their time together, he wondered, and why hadn’t she told him?
He held out his arm. “Mademoiselle, shall we dance?”
Alix’s silver fan fluttered unsteadily. “If his lordship will excuse me, I find myself too warm to dance at this time.”
He wouldn’t let her slip away that easily. “I think you’ll find the portrait gallery much cooler than the dance floor, Mademoiselle de La Brou, and Lord Kensington’s art collection is quite impressive.” Rafe tucked Alix’s hand under his arm, before she could protest.
Smiling warmly at Alix’s mother, he said, “Madame, with your permission?” The Comtesse de La Brou nodded her approval.
“I have no desire to go anywhere with you,” Alix insisted through a clenched smile as he guided her through the crowded ballroom.
“We traveled through France together and now you’re refusing to cross a dance floor with me?” Rafe shook his head. “Besides I need to speak with you.”
“You couldn’t have sent a card round in the morning, instead you must abduct me?”
“There’s the rub sweetheart, I wouldn’t have known how to address a card, to Mademoiselle de La Brou or to Lady Moreham.”
“Mademoiselle de La Brou would be fine.”
“You see, that’s where we disagree.”
Rafe spotted what he had been looking for, a drape of velvet that concealed the doorway to a small sitting room.
Glancing about to see that no one was watching them, he opened the door and pulled Alix inside.
Two small candelabras burned on the mantelpiece, illuminating the dark green walls and matching armchair and chaise.
He closed the door and turned to face her.
Cole’s admonition to speak calmly drifted through his head.
How could he speak calmly to her when she stood looking at him like that, her mahogany curls tumbled around her shoulders, her face rosy with anger and her eyes like silver flames?
He had a wild desire to laugh. It was all he could do not to take her into his arms.
“You left me,” he said, “without a word, without a note.”
“Indeed, my Lord Moreham,” she said frostily, “I would have thought with a fiancée anxiously awaiting your return, you would have been pleased to have found yourself unencumbered.”
“I do not have a fiancée,” he growled. “I have a wife.”
“A wife in name only.”
His eyes widened in surprise that she would say this after what they’d shared in Calais. “Oh no, my dear,” he said stepping closer, “a wife in a great deal more than name.”
“We had an agreement...”
“An agreement that was breached when I breached your maidenhead.”
She flushed. “There’s no need to be crude...”
“I’m not being crude, Alix,” he said quietly, “I’m being honest.”
She studied the delicate sticks of her fan. “It doesn’t have to change anything.”
“Alix,” he said firmly, “I think you know it changes everything.”
Her hand fluttered at her throat and Rafe noticed a thin gold chain entangled in her pearls. He drew nearer, lightly touching the shimmering links. “You wear my ring Alix,” he said softly. “What else do you have of mine?”
She turned her back on him and said fiercely, “Nothing.”
“Do you carry my child, Alix?” he whispered against her ear.
“No. Does that satisfy you? I’m not carrying your precious heir. There will be no scandal to sully the Harcrest name. You can return to courting Lady Dinsmore...”