Page 11 of Second Chances (Intrepid Heroines #3)

Ten

T he next day dawned grey and chilly, which mirrored the mood surrounding the departure. Max still appeared hurt over his father’s sharp words from the night before, while the earl and Allegra both had the drawn faces and dark smudges under their eyes that bespoke of a sleepless night. Neither of them uttered so much as a word during the loading of the baggage carriage. And when the time came to set off, Wrexham signaled for his stallion to be brought around instead of climbing into the traveling carriage along with the others.

Allegra settled herself across from Max, studiously avoiding his questioning look, and let her eyes fall shut. At least for a time, she could put off any demand for conversation by pretending to doze off. Though her exhaustion was all too real, she had little hope that sleep would bring a welcome escape from her thoughts, given her agitated state of mind.

What must the earl be thinking of her shocking behavior?

Allegra choked back a groan on recalling his grim expression as he had stalked down the stairs to oversee the preparation of the carriages.

Why, he had looked positively sick at the sight of her! She could hardly blame him. When she considered what had taken place last night in the library, she was as appalled with herself as he must be. That a man was subject to certain urges was understood, but that she should have responded with equal abandon was beyond the pale.

She was keenly aware of where things have gone—and she knew that she would have allowed him to take whatever liberties he desired … Indeed, if she were brutally honest with herself, she had to admit that she would have welcomed them.

Surely he must have sensed that. There could be no question that he now thought of her as no better than a lightskirt.

Allegra felt the sudden sting of tears against her lids. It hurt to have lost his good opinion of her character. Despite their frequent differences of opinion, the earl had always shown her a certain respect. Why, for a time it even appeared that they had become—friends. But now, there was nothing to do but muster up the courage to comport herself with dignity for the rest of the journey. After that, it hardly mattered. She couldn’t imagine she would be around for a moment longer than it took the servants to toss down her trunk down from the baggage carriage.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Max closing his book with a decided thump in the hopes of gaining her attention. A fresh wave of guilt washed over her. Dear God, how could she look Max in the eye? If he had any inkling of what had taken place, he would no doubt be disgusted by her behavior, too. It took all of her resolve to keep from turning into a veritable watering pot. She couldn’t, however, stave off the beginnings of a splitting headache that threatened to make the journey even more uncomfortable.

To make matters worse, a lashing rain began to fall, forcing the earl to abandon his horse and take refuge inside the carriage. Muttering a few choice words, he shook the drops of water from the brim of his hat, then flung himself back against the squabs with a grunt and drew a slim book from the pocket of his coat. Ignoring the others, he snapped it open and focused his gaze on the printed pages.

It was not, she noted, a volume of romantic poetry.

After another hour of jostling along the toll road, the tension within the carriage was as palpable as the damp chill that permeated the air. Finally Max could tolerate it no longer.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded of his father. “Why are you and Mrs. Proctor acting as if something is dreadfully amiss if you haven’t quarreled?”

The earl didn’t raise his eyes from his book. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“What fustian!” said Max, unwilling to let the matter drop.

His father looked up with narrowed eyes. “I would prefer it that you don’t indulge in a fit of sullens simply because I choose to read rather than converse at this early hour. It’s a long journey, Max. Try to exhibit a little self-control.”

“Don’t patronize me as if I am a schoolboy,” retorted Max. “As if I can’t tell something is wrong.” he added under his breath.

“Then stop acting like one,” snapped Wrexham. “Else I’ll order the carriage turned around this instant and take you back to the nursery.”

Max let out a gasp of outrage but Allegra managed to forestall a further outburst by shooting him a warning look. Still, the situation was volatile enough that she felt she had to intervene to head off a real explosion.

“Milord,” she said hesitantly. “In all fairness, Max hardly deserves to be spoken to in such?—”

The earl’s voice rose a notch . “Kindly refrain from telling me how to deal with my son, Mrs. Proctor.”

“Don’t yell at Mrs. Proctor!” cried Max. “She has done nothing to?—”

“That’s enough,” said Allegra quietly, yet her tone caused Max to fall silent. “Let us not fall to brangling among ourselves.” She took a deep breath. “Max, you must try to accept that there are a number of complex issues concerning this venture. And your father and I must come to a mutual understanding on how to deal with them. It is not that we have … quarreled, it is just that we do not entirely agree on certain things and must work it out between ourselves. You may not understand it, but you must make allowances for it.”

She drew in a measured breath. “Rest assured that you will be included in any discussions that have bearing on our actual course of action.”

Max appeared mollified by her words. “Very well,” he said, picking up one of the books at his side. After a moment he added, “I apologize for my outburst, Father. It was indeed childish.”

Wrexham sighed. “I’m sorry I snapped at you, Max. It was indeed uncalled for.”

The mood inside the carriage lightened somewhat. Allegra forced a smile to her lips. “What are you reading, Max?” she inquired, initiating a discussion that further coaxed the lad into his normal good humor.

* * *

Wrexham stared down at his book, mechanically turning the pages every so often, though they may as well have been written in Hindu for all that he was comprehending. He couldn’t help but marvel at how well Allegra dealt with Max. It was uncanny how she had just the right feel for his quixotic moods and was able to coax him back into a good humor rather than having him fly into the boughs.

Unlike himself, he thought with a grimace, who lately seemed to elicit only the worst behavior from his son.

He seemed to be making a mull of most things these days.

Heaving an inward sigh. Wrexham stole a glance at Allegra as she conversed with Max. Damnation! He wished he could tell what she was thinking! Her countenance revealed only her usual outward composure, but he had come to know her well enough to hear the coil of tension in her voice. That, and the fact that she steadfastly refused to meet his gaze in the forthright manner he had come to expect was a sign that she was not as unmoved by recent events as she would like to appear.

Did she think him an unprincipled rake—or worse—for his pawing advances? The earl’s grip tightened on his book. It was impossible to explain what had come over him in those few mad moments. He had never experienced such a loss of control before and it made him rather angry—angry with himself for such incomprehensible behavior, angry with her for turning him so topsy turvy …

The carriage hit a rut, jostling Allegra’s skirts and revealing a touch of ankle. Wrexham’s mouth went slightly dry as he recalled the shapely legs beneath the woolen fabric, the way his palm had glided over their silky length. To his utter dismay, he began to feel a tingling in his groin. Giving thanks that the rain had slackened to a mere drizzle, he rapped on the trap to bring the carriage to a halt and stumbled out the door. Perhaps a hard gallop in this weather could dampen both his anger and his desire.

* * *

The sun was finally breaking through the scudding grey clouds when the horses trotted into the yard of a coaching inn along their route. As the ostlers sprang forward to change the team, Max and Allegra climbed down stiffly from the carriage as Wrexham bespoke a private parlor from the obsequious landlord. Conversation over nuncheon was quite civil, there was still an unspoken tension between her and the earl. As soon as was decently possible, Allegra excused herself, voicing the need to take a short stroll before having to submit once again to the confined space of the carriage.

There was a large walled garden behind the inn, and she slipped inside the iron gate, grateful for a modicum of privacy in which to order her thoughts. She had little time to reflect, however, before the crunch of boots on gravel caused her turn around.

The earl came to a halt facing her. There was a long moment of awkward silence before he forced himself to speak. “I feel beholden to offer apologies for my beastly behavior last night.”

There was more anger than contrition in his voice, she noted, as she averted her eyes. from his black scowl. “You needn’t apologize, my lord,” she said tightly. “I am well aware that the fault is entirely mine for what occurred.”

“What?” he exclaimed, taken completely aback.

“Once again I have shown myself to be quite beyond the pale. My behavior was little better than that of a … a lightskirt,” she elaborated. “You have every reason to feel that your low opinion of my judgment and my person are entirely justified.” She squared her shoulders, unwilling to let him see how wretched she felt. “I … I deserve your scorn.”

He gave an incredulous shake of his head. “That is hardly what I feel,” he answered in a low voice.

“And I could hardly blame you if you wish to rid yourself of my presence as soon as we reach Town. I cannot imagine that you would wish your sister to be exposed to?—”

“I told you, I don’t go back on my promises. I have no intention of altering our plans.”

“But …” she began

Any flare of anger in his voice had faded, replaced by a different emotion. “Since your limited experiences have given you an odd understanding of relations between a man and a woman, you must take my word that the blame does not rest with anything you did. My actions—” He stopped short, suddenly looking uncertain about how to continue.

* * *

A horn suddenly sounded in the courtyard, signaling the arrival of the mailcoach. At the piercing note, a number of people began to emerge from the taproom. Wrexham swore in frustration as he noticed that Max had also come outside and was looking around in all directions.

“Damnation!” he repeated in a low mutter. “This is hardly the place to engage in a discussion of this sort?—”

“I agree, sir,” interrupted Allegra. “In fact, there is really no need to discuss it any further at all. I’m sure both of us regret the appalling lapse of judgment and will never let such an unfortunate thing happen again.” She took a sharp breath. “Perhaps it would be best if we could simply agree to forget the entire sordid incident and proceed with the important matter at hand.”

His mouth compressed. So, she found his attentions “appalling” and incident “sordid”? He stood silent, feeling utterly at a loss as to how to allay her misconceptions, how to express all that he wished to say. Chuffing a sigh,, he gave up and nodded curtly. “Very well. Let us not mention it again.”

Her eyes still avoided meeting his. “I shall endeavor not to give you any further reason to question my judgment.”

Somehow, those words left him feeling precious little satisfaction.

* * *

It was a great relief to everyone when the carriage finally pulled up in front of the earl’s townhouse on South Audley Street. The last leg of the journey had been rendered even more uncomfortable by unremitting bad weather and a broken wheel spoke that had caused a half-day’s delay. The constant jostling and cramped confinement had subdued their spirits even further. By the last day of travel, hardly a word was exchanged until they reached the outskirts of the city, where Max was able to muster up some enthusiasm as the sights and sounds of London began to unroll before him.

Wrexham gave a series of terse orders to the two footmen who hastened down the marble steps to assist their descent from the carriage, then led Max and Allegra into the tastefully appointed entrance hall where the earl’s butler greeted them with a formal bow.

“Welcome back, my lord. I trust you will find everything in order for your visit. Lady Alston informs me that you will staying rather longer than usual.”

Any reply from the earl was forestalled by the rustle of silk as a tall, elegantly gowned lady hurried down the curved staircase.

“Leo! You’ve arrived at last.” She gave the earl a quick and presented her cheek for a kiss. “You are looking well. Country life must still agree with you.”

“As are you, my dear sister,” murmured Wrexham. Despite his fatigue from the days of traveling, his lips curved into a fond smile. “I trust James is well and the boys are not getting into more mischief than usual.”

“They will be sorry to have missed your visit—you are in Town so rarely these days.” Her attention was then distracted by a moment behind the earl. “Max!” she cried, abandoning all pretense of ladylike reserve. She flung her arms around the lad’s neck and hugged him tightly. “How you have grown! Good Lord, I scarcely recognize you—you are nearly as tall as your father, and just as handsome.”

“Halloo, Aunt Olivia,” said Max with a self-conscious grin. “It’s nice to see you, too.”

Still clutching Max’s arm, Lady Alston turned to Allegra. “And you must be Mrs. Proctor. I trust you will forgive my shocking lack of manners, but I so rarely see my baby brother and dear Max that I can’t refrain from embarrassing them with my hugs and kisses.” There was a decided twinkle in her eye as she extended her hand. “I am Leo’s sister, Olivia. I have heard a great deal about you from Lord Bingham, as well as from Leo’s letters and I have been looking forward to making your acquaintance.”

Allegra bit back a smile at the lady’s reference to the tall, broad-shouldered earl as her baby brother. The family connection, however, could hardly be missed. Lady Alston had the same arched brows and raven locks as her brother, though hers were more liberally threaded with silver than those of the earl. And her eyes, while perhaps a shade lighter, radiated the same piercing intelligence. Allegra had the feeling that, like her brother, she missed very little.

With a slight swallow of nervousness, she responded to Lady Alston’s greeting. “That is very kind of you—especially given what His Lordship must have written. I hope I am not half so troublesome as he says.”

Lady Alston gave a delighted laugh. “Oh, I have long since learned that Leo’s bark is far worse than his bite.”

The earl let out a decided “Hmmph.”

“But of course,” she continued, a glint of amusement in her eyes. “He is far too much a gentleman to write anything disparaging about a lady. He has only told me what a splendid tutor you have been for Max.”

Allegra colored slightly. “I can hardly take credit for any of Max’s abilities. Rather it is I who must struggle to keep up with his prodigious intellect.” She essayed a slight smile. “Slow wits do not seem to be a Sloane family trait.”

Lady Alston regarded her thoughtfully for a moment before speaking again. “This promises to become a most interesting conversation, Mrs. Proctor. But I fear I’m being frightfully remiss in my duties as a hostess. I’m sure you must be thoroughly worn out from your journey and would like to freshen up before supper. Let me show you to your room.” With that, she released her nephew’s arm and led Allegra towards the stairs. “Leo,” she called over her shoulder. “Hawkins has everything in order for you and Max. I shall see you both later.”

Allegra had not quite known what to expect on meeting the sister of an earl and wife of a marquess. She couldn’t help but imagine someone rather intimidating and cool, so it was with great relief that she found Lady Alston to be as charming as her brother was reserved. In fact, she found herself immediately liking the other woman. A sly sense of humor was already quite evident, and despite the light tone, something about her manner left little doubt as to the keenness of her observations.

Indeed, the earl’s sister was not at all the type of empty-headed female Allegra had feared meeting.

Supper also proved far more enjoyable and relaxed than she had feared. Lady Alston. kept Allegra and Max engrossed with colorful descriptions of all the attractions she meant to show her nephew. Indeed, the lad could soon scarce sit still in his chair as he listened to all of the sights in store for him. She even managed to coax a few smiles from the earl with her pithy comments concerning the latest scandals among the ton . However, his moody silence throughout most of the meal drew a raised eyebrow or two from her, though she forbore to make mention of it.

When the last of the courses were removed, Wrexham lost no time in announcing that he would take his brandy in the library.

“I shall come along with you, Leo,” said Lady Alston, ignoring the frown that flitted over his features. “Max, since I would hope your father has not yet encouraged you to partake in spirits, I shall see you in the morning. I think we can manage a trip to see Lord Elgin’s marbles after my modiste finishes taking Mrs. Proctor’s measure.” She turned to Allegra. “Would you care to join us?”

Allegra shook her head. “That is very kind of you, but I think I shall retire early tonight. It has been a rather tiring journey. Besides, I am sure you and your brother have much to catch up on and would prefer some time alone. So I shall bid you good night.” Without looking at the earl, she added, “And you, milord.”

Wrexham inclined his head a fraction, then abruptly pushed back his chair and got to his feet.

Allegra frowned thinned in concern as watched him hurry away.

“Dear me,” murmured Lady Alston as she, too, watched the earl quit the room. “Leo appears to be in a black humor—it is most unlike him. I wonder what has him in such a taking?”

A sigh slipped from Allegra’s lips. “Oh, you needn’t look far for the cause,” she answered softly. “I fear he is quite ruing the day that I appeared on the steps of Stormaway Hall.”

* * *

“You may pour me a sherry while you are there,” said Lady Alston as she took a seat on the comfortable sofa that faced the blazing fire. Patting the plump cushion beside her she added, “Then come sit here beside me and let us have a comfortable coze.”

Wrexham turned from the sideboard, a mulish expression on his face. “One which, no doubt, will include waxing poetic over Edmund’s fanciful plot,” he said waspishly. “Really, Olivia, I would have expected more sense from you. This is no childish game—the dangers are all too real.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I am well aware of that, Leo. I saw the marks on Max’s face, faded though they are. And Edmund mentioned the shot that grazed your hand. But this monster must be stopped before he hurts more innocent people. If you have a better plan, I am quite willing to listen.”

“Damnation,” he growled as he handed his sister her sherry. “As of yet, I haven’t—that is to say, there have been … a number of distractions. But I am sure there is a way I may trap the villain without involving?—”

“The ladies?” finished Lady Alston with an arch of her brow. “I don’t see why that is such a cause for worry. Mrs. Proctor strikes me as an extremely competent sort of

person.” Taking Wrexham’s silence for a grudging surrender on that point, she continued. “I doubt that either she or I will do anything buffleheaded enough to endanger you.”

“I am hardly concerned about the danger to myself,” said the earl through gritted teeth. “Edmund’s plan calls for All—Mrs. Proctor to be the one most exposed to Sandhill’s wrath should anything go wrong. I cannot countenance such a thing.”

“Well, she is not some silly widget of a girl, Leo. I imagine she has considered the consequences. She has a right to decide for herself, whether you like it or not.”

The earl’s expression only darkened at his sister’s words and he muttered something under his breath as he took a long sip of his brandy. Further comment was forestalled, however, by a light knock on the door.

Wrexham put his glass down with a thump. “Come in,” he snapped.

Allegra slowly opened the door. “Forgive me for intruding on you,” she said hesitantly. Wisps of steam curled up from the large cup in her hands, giving off a pungent scent of woody herbs. “I … I saw that your leg is bothering you. The cramped quarters and constant jostling can have done it no good, sir. So I took the liberty of preparing this.”

“Oh, Leo!” exclaimed Lady Alston. “With all the bustle of your arrival, I didn’t even notice that your old injury was acting up. How frightful of me!”

“Please, Olivia. You know I don’t care to have you make a fuss over it,” growled the earl.

Allegra put the cup down on the table beside him. “I’ve left the recipe with the kitchen so that they may fix it in … the future, when you have need of it.”

Wrexham looked acutely uncomfortable. “You needn’t have gone to such trouble. It’s hardly a twinge.” As he unconsciously stretched his leg out in front of him, a slight spasm of pain crossed his features, but he made no move to take up the tisane.

“Really, my lord, you are acting as childish as Max did about taking his medicine.” A note of exasperation crept into Allegra’s voice. “It makes no sense to endure such discomfort if it can be helped, and you know that this helps. In fact, I am going to stand here until you drink it.” She couldn’t help but turn to Lady Alston. “Is being stubborn as a mule also a trait of Sloane men?”

Casting a baleful glance at his sister, the earl picked up the cup and drained the contents.

Lady Alston struggled to maintain a straight face. “I’m afraid it is, Mrs. Proctor, though I must admit the females of our family are equally cursed—just ask Leo.” Before Allegra could make any response she went on. “Come, now that you are here, I insist that you take a glass of sherry with us.”

“Oh, I couldn’t?—”

“Nonsense!” Her tone indicated she would brook no argument. “Leo, you will remain seated and rest that leg of yours,” she added as the earl made to rise. “I am perfectly capable of pouring our guest a glass of spirits.”

Wrexham sat down as ordered.

It was Allegra’s turn to stifle a grin.

“Oh dear,” said Lady Alston, with a guilty laugh. “I fear that the habit of ordering little Leo around is a hard one to break. I wonder he hasn’t taking to boxing my ears now that he is no longer in leading strings.”

“I just might, one of these days,” he warned, but he couldn’t refrain from smiling as well. “As it is, I find it no surprise that James has undertaken a long trip to St. Petersburg—and that the lads have chosen to go with him. No doubt the prospect of the discipline aboard a naval warship is a welcome respite from home.”

“Wretch,” she murmured as she handed Allegra a glass. “You might not believe it, Mrs. Proctor, but he can be quite charming when he chooses.” Resuming her seat next to the earl, she motioned Allegra to take the chair facing them. “Actually, I am so glad you have joined us tonight. We have much to talk about if we are to implement our plans as soon as possible.” With that, she launched into a detailed plan for introducing Allegra into Society that left even the earl mute with respect.

“You seem to have thought of everything,” admitted Wrexham when she inquired whether she had omitted anything of note.

“Good. Now, my modiste will be here first thing in the morning and has promised to have several gowns ready in time for making a number of morning calls before attending the Hightower’s ball.” She fixed Allegra with an appraising look. “I should think that a smoky shade of blue or perhaps a muted emerald would look marvelous with your coloring. Leo, you must give us your opinion. You have always had impeccable taste and I know that even Suzanna sought your?—”

The earl cut her off in mid-sentence. “I’m sure Mrs. Proctor has no interest in what I think.”

Allegra looked overwhelmed. “Lady Alston, I … I don’t think it necessary—I mean, surely I don’t need …”

The other lady waved away her protest. “You must trust me to know what you need in order to appear to be what you say you are. Oh, and if we are to present you as our relative, you really must call me Olivia.” She paused for a moment. “And you must cease with the ‘milord’ and ‘sir’ and call Wrexham by his Christian name as well.”

Allegra felt the heat rise to her face as she recalled the only time she had ever uttered the earl’s name.

“Oh … I couldn’t. It really wouldn’t be proper.”

“I must insist. It would appear odd if you don’t.”

“In that case, I … very well,” she replied in a near whisper. She put aside her untouched glass of sherry and rose. “If you don’t mind, I really do think I shall retire. It has been a long day and it appear we have much to do on the morrow.”

“Good night then, Allegra,” said Lady Alston.

“Good night … to you both.”

When the door closed, there was a rather long silence as Lady Alston regarded her brother from under her lashes.

Wrexham shifted uncomfortably. “What?” he finally demanded.

“Oh, nothing.” After a slight pause, she added, “Tell me about Mrs. Proctor.”

“There is little to tell,” he muttered. “Edmund has recounted the entire story to you.”

“I mean as a person.”

The earl looked taken by surprise. His brows came together as he thought for a moment. “She possesses a keen intelligence as well as uncommonly good sense—that is, most of the time. She has more spirit than most … and she is caring and compassionate. Why, when Max was injured, she exhibited more concern than Suz?—”

His jaw clamped shut. Reaching for his brandy, he took a long swallow before continuing. “There is nothing more to tell.”

Lady Ashton refrained from any comment.

Wrexham drained his glass, then rose a bit stiffly. “I, too, have had a long day, Olivia, so I think I shall bid you good night.” He bent down and pressed a kiss on her cheek. “Despite your penchant for meddling, I am deucedly glad to see you.”

“Good night, Leo, my dear.” She squeezed his hand. “Do try not to worry. I have a feeling that everything is going to work out for the best.”