Читать книгу The Bridegroom's Bargain - Sylvia Andrew - Страница 8

T he door closed. Lexi heard a rustle of skirts, and felt Lady Honoria’s maid gently straightening the sheets. She was safe.

Still keeping her eyes closed, she contemplated the pictures called up by what Richard had just said. She remembered watching the two men enter the ballroom at Northumberland House. Even in a company that was by then well used to officers in its midst, they had attracted attention. The taller one, dark, with cool grey eyes and an air of arrogance about him, had appeared to be indifferent to the interested gaze of the ladies. The other, with a thatch of dark red hair and laughing blue eyes, had returned their glances with enjoyment. Richard and Johnny. They looked so spruce in their dress uniforms that no one could have guessed that they had arrived in London only that afternoon. Lexi sighed and sought escape into the past again…

Though she had been fully conscious of the two men circling the ballroom in search of her, was aware of their every movement, she made a great effort to appear not to have noticed them. No longer was she the impulsive hoyden who had followed the two boys round wherever they went, pleading to be allowed to go with them. She had learned a lot in the past year or two, and now was the time to put her lessons to good use. And she was determined that when Richard finally found where she was, he would have to come to her. When he reached her at last she was ready.

‘Johnny! Richard!’ she cried with a surprised look and a warm but not extravagantly affectionate smile. ‘Why didn’t you tell us you were in London? It’s wonderful to see you—and both looking so well.’ Before they could say anything she turned to her godmother. ‘Lady Wroxford—you know Johnny already, of course, but this is his friend, Richard Deverell. Lady Wroxford is my godmother, Richard, and a very kind one, too.’

Conventional words, covering a tumult of feeling. As they stood and chatted to her godmother she examined them covertly. They were both still handsome, but they looked older, no longer boys, but men in their prime, with an air of command about them, a hint of ruthlessness. Lexi reminded herself that they had spent the last three years fighting under Wellington in the harshest of conditions, that they had faced death and disease, defeat as well as victory. And now, from what they were saying to Lady Wroxford, it appeared they wanted to put it all behind them and enjoy what was left of one of the most brilliant Seasons London had seen for a long time.

In the days and weeks that followed Lexi realised that Johnny had not changed underneath. He was still her beloved, amusing, carelessly affectionate brother, kind when it suited him, but basically selfish. At first it was Johnny who escorted her to the many events during the rest of the month, but, as his circle of acquaintances expanded, he grew less eager to be tied to his sister. He began to ask Richard to deputise for him, to Lexi’s great annoyance. It was no part of her plan that Richard should regard himself as a substitute brother. But help came from an unexpected quarter. Lady Wroxford, too, was uneasy at the arrangement.

‘My dear, I know from what you and your brother have told me that Mr Deverell has always been regarded as a member of the family, but the truth is he is a handsome and extremely eligible male who is not at all related to you. Unless you wish to provoke undesirable gossip, you will not be seen in his company as often as John suggests.’

When she put the same point to Johnny, however, he roared with laughter. ‘Oh, forgive me, ma’am, but that is nonsense!’

‘Indeed?’ said Lady Wroxford icily. ‘I think I know the world of the ton better than you, John. And, while I am in charge of your sister, I will not allow her to be compromised, however close she and Mr Deverell have been in the past. That was when she was a child, not the very attractive young lady she now is.’

‘You mean people might say Dev ought to marry her?’

‘I am sure neither Mr Deverell, nor your sister, would do anything to encourage the gossips to go as far as that, but one cannot be too careful.’

Johnny frowned, then his face lit up and he said eagerly, ‘But that wouldn’t half be a bad idea! It’s never occurred to me before, but Dev would be a first-rate catch for Lexi! They’ve known each other for ever, and they’ve always got on well. What do you say, Lexi? Would you like to marry Dev? I think he would be willing if I asked him to. I don’t think he has anyone else in mind, and now the wars are over he’ll soon have to think of marrying.’

Lexi’s face flamed and she had difficulty in speaking. After a moment she said fiercely, ‘Don’t you dare! I’m not so short of offers that I have to rely on you to find me a husband, Johnny Rawdon!’

Johnny shrugged his shoulders and appeared to give up the idea. But Lexi was so worried that he might say something, however harmless, that she began to adopt a much cooler manner towards Richard. Richard was hers, but she was determined that he must come to her of his own free will because he had discovered that he loved her—not because of any nonsense about duty or obliging an old friend.

So though they frequently danced together when they met at the many balls and routs during that glittering Season, though she even went for the occasional ride in the Park with him, she was careful to refuse more of his invitations than she accepted. It was very hard. With every day that passed she fell more in love with him. Even in a crowded ballroom, dancing a formal dance with the rest of the world looking on, she felt a secret harmony between them, which no other man could ever begin to match. The world saw and respected Richard as the heir to an old and wealthy family, a distinguished soldier, a man of honour. But Lexi knew that part of him which the rest of the world did not see, hidden as it was behind his air of aloof courtesy—his wry sense of humour, his compassion, and his vulnerability. And the more she loved him for it all, the harder she worked to hide the fact.

One warm evening Johnny took them all out to Vauxhall Gardens. Lady Wroxford was content to sit in one of the booths, gossiping with her friends, and she made no objection when Richard took Lexi off for a set of dances. But then, instead of joining the dancers, he asked Lexi if she would prefer to walk about the gardens for a few minutes instead. The evening was warm and the dance floor crowded. A few minutes in the peace of the gardens with Richard was very tempting, so Lexi gave way and they walked in silence along the lamplit paths for a minute or two. Then he stopped and said quietly,

‘Have I done something wrong, Alexandra?’

‘Wrong?’ Lexi turned an astonished face towards him. ‘This evening? Of course not!’

‘Not this evening. But…’ he hesitated ‘…in general.’

Lexi grew cautious. ‘What makes you think that?’

‘You seem to have changed. Recently I have the impression that you are…wary, in a way you never were before I went into the Army.’

Lexi bit her lip. ‘We’re both older, Richard…’ she said slowly.

‘But we’re surely still friends? Shouldn’t the past still count for something? Do you know, in Spain, at night, after a hard day’s fighting, I used to lie and look at the stars, and think about the days at Rawdon when we were children. The pictures I conjured up then helped to keep me sane amongst all that blood and noise and killing. You were always part of them. I used to imagine the way you looked, remembered your laughter, the way you had of wrinkling up your nose, that mane of hair, which was always getting in the way—’ He broke off.

This was so unlike his usual tone that Lexi was at a loss to know what to reply. She said somewhat abruptly, ‘Lady Wroxford thinks I should have it cut.’

‘No!’ Then, seeing her surprise at the force with which he had spoken, he went on more calmly, ‘No. Don’t give in to her, Alexandra. Your hair is one of the things that make you…special.’

The old Lexi would have instantly demanded how and why, and what else made her special to him. But now, though the colour rose in her cheeks, she suppressed the frisson of delight at his words and said with a cool smile, ‘Come, sir! You mustn’t flatter me! Spain must surely have been full of raven-haired señoritas only too willing to comfort you all! I don’t suppose for a moment that you very often thought of your friends in England, not even the copper-haired ones!’

‘I wasn’t intending to flatter! Damn it, that’s what I meant a moment ago! The cool smile, the remark meant to put me off. Why are you treating me as distantly as you do all the others? Surely our old friendship deserves more?’

Lexi said with some feeling, ‘But this is not Somerset, nor are we children any longer. You may still regard me as your little sister, but that isn’t the way Society sees us!’

‘Has Lady Wroxford been talking to you?’

‘Yes, she has. But she said nothing I could disagree with. I have no wish to be the subject of conjecture and gossip.’

‘Gossip?’

‘Yes, Richard! Gossip!’ said Lexi sharply, losing her patience. ‘Surprising as it may seem to you, the world sees me as a young woman of marriageable age who, unless she wishes to set tongues wagging, should not spend too much time alone with one of London’s most eligible bachelors! As I am doing at the moment. And since gossip is the last thing I wish for, I think we should return to my godmother. She will be wondering in any case what has happened to me.’

She started to walk away, but he took her hand and pulled her back. She stumbled and fell against him. His arm went round her and he pulled her closer, his eyes holding hers. A shiver of delight ran down her spine, but she managed to say fiercely,

‘Are these Spanish ways, Richard? Let me go!’

‘Not yet. And they’re very old English ways, my love.’ He bent his head and kissed her.

Since the episode by the stile four years before, Lexi had often imagined what it would be like to be kissed by Richard. But nothing had prepared her for this. She felt as if she was suspended in space; her heart was hammering, the blood rushing through her veins to every inch of her body. ‘R…Richard?’ she said, her voice a mere breath. He laughed and kissed her again, this time more deeply. The kiss went on and on until she thought she would die with the pleasure of it. He held her so tightly, his arms cradling her against him so closely, that she was made aware of his manhood, the strength of his desire, and for a brief moment she responded tumultuously to the new and previously unknown feelings it aroused in her. She put her arms round his neck and held his lips to hers, inviting further caresses….

The sound of laughter nearby brought her suddenly and cruelly to her senses. Full of horrified shame, she wrenched herself out of Richard’s arms and tried to escape, but her legs refused to carry her more than a step or two. She stood with her back towards him, fighting for control.

‘Alexandra—’

‘Be quiet! Don’t say a word!’

‘I must! I had no right—’ He stopped, then began again. ‘This isn’t the time or the place—’ He stopped again and gave a little laugh. ‘At least you know I don’t regard you as a child any more,’ he said ruefully.

No word of love, nothing to show he had been as affected as she had been by what had happened. He was probably well used to such encounters. But what could he be thinking of her? Lexi swallowed. ‘No,’ she said stiffly. ‘I’m no longer a child. And I should never have behaved as I did, least of all with you. Shall we go back to my godmother?’

Richard looked at her searchingly. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Of course I am,’ she said with a brittle laugh. ‘Ashamed, perhaps, but otherwise unharmed.’

‘I’m sorry, Alexandra.’ He stopped and shook his head. Then he said decisively, ‘It won’t happen again.’

Still nothing that she wanted to hear. The pain in her heart was growing by the minute, but pride came to her aid. Concealing her bitter disappointment, she said as lightly as she could, ‘Even old friends can get carried away, can’t they, Richard? Perhaps the world is right after all to disapprove of my spending time alone with you. And now please take me back to Lady Wroxford.’

They went back, and for the rest of the evening he behaved impeccably, not ignoring her exactly, but not singling her out for any particular attention either. No one could have guessed from his demeanour that for a few breathtaking moments such a short while before he had taken Lexi to Paradise and back.

In the days that followed Richard remained just as distant. Lexi was left confused and even somewhat angry. Did he think she was in the habit of allowing men to take her to such a secluded situation, to hold her so closely, to kiss her? Was this what he thought of her? The sole excuse for her disgraceful conduct was her love for Richard Deverell, but it was clear that there was no such reason for the way he had acted. He had not even claimed to love her. Perhaps he had found her earlier coolness towards him a challenge? For whatever reason, he had behaved in a manner she would never have believed possible. Had his time in the Army made him cynical?

She hid her sore heart and bruised pride and sought consolation in the company of other, less complicated, admirers. During the last weeks of the Season no one was as gay, as apparently carefree, as Miss Alexandra Rawdon. One young man refused to listen to her when she assured him she was not interested in his offer of marriage. He was so persistent and so obviously eligible that London began to speculate whether Miss Rawdon would finally succumb. When she assured her godmother that there was no question of it, Lady Wroxford grew really angry with her.

‘Mr Transden has everything to recommend him to the most demanding young lady, Lexi. He may not have a title, but his family is a distinguished one. Moreover, he is comparatively young, in good health, and enormously wealthy. And devoted to you! What more can you possibly ask for?’

‘I don’t love him,’ said Lexi.

‘Love? Pshaw! I have never approved of gambling, and marrying for love is the greatest gamble of them all! Marry for comfort, girl. You can fall in love later, if you want to—after you’ve given your husband an heir or two.’ When Lexi remained silent Lady Wroxford shook her head. ‘I might as well talk to that table leg for all the attention you will pay me, I know. It’s that “old family friend” of yours, isn’t it? You’re in love with Richard Deverell.’

‘Is it so obvious?’

‘Not at all! Your behaviour towards him has been admirably discreet.’ Lexi had a sudden vision of herself in Richard’s arms at Vauxhall and her colour rose. Little did her godmother know! Lady Wroxford went on, ‘But I have no idea what he feels about you—or anyone else. That’s a man who keeps his own counsel, Lexi. No one would guess from his recent demeanour that his father is not expected to live much longer.’

‘Lord Deverell ill? Are you sure?’ asked Lexi in astonishment. ‘I hadn’t heard anything of that, and I’ll swear Johnny doesn’t know either.’

‘Mrs Shackleton told me—she had it from Honoria Standish, who is some kind of relation. It’s a very odd situation. Apparently Lord Deverell refuses to see anyone, even his own son. What sort of father is that?’

‘There was never much affection between them, ma’am. Lord Deverell has persistently ignored his son’s existence. That is why Richard has been so much part of my…of our family.’

‘I see. It might also explain Mr Deverell’s marked air of detachment…’

Afterwards Lexi found that she was badly hurt by Richard’s silence. They had had few private moments since that scene at Vauxhall, but if he had wanted to, he could surely have found the time to tell her about his father.

However, the next day he called to take his leave of Lady Wroxford and her goddaughter. Lord Deverell had sent for him at last, and Richard was leaving London more or less straight away. He would probably not return before the end of the Season. Lady Wroxford expressed her concern and wished him a safe journey. Then she threw a quick glance at Lexi, and took pity on her.

‘I think my goddaughter might well have some messages you could carry to Somerset for her,’ she said, with a smile. ‘You’ll excuse me, I’m sure, if I leave her to give them to you. Goodbye, Mr Deverell.’

After she had left the room there was a short, difficult silence. Then Lexi broke it with a touch of her old impulsive style. ‘Did Johnny know about your father’s illness, Richard? Or did you keep it from him, too?’

‘I didn’t tell anyone.’

‘Why not? I thought Johnny was your best friend. I thought you and I were friends, too.’

Richard heard the hurt anger in her voice and said quickly, ‘Of course you are! You Rawdons are the only real family I’ve known.’ He frowned. ‘I’m sorry. I suppose I should have explained, but it’s a painful subject… I don’t find it easy to talk about it.’

‘Not even to us?’

‘Not even to you, Alexandra. You must have realised long ago that my father rejected me almost as soon as I was born. That’s no secret. We have always been strangers to each other. His illness was not serious at first, and though it was regrettable it was not important to me. But it now looks as if he might die. Have you any idea what that would mean?’

His bitter tone puzzled Lexi. ‘You inherit the title?’ she said uncertainly.

‘There’s much more to it than that. In spite of all the evidence, I’ve hoped all my life my father would one day finally accept me, that he might even show me a little affection. Stupid of me, I know.’ He raised his eyes, and they were for once unguarded. The pain in them made Lexi gasp. He looked away immediately. ‘If he dies now, any hope I might once have cherished about getting to know him will be lost forever…’

‘Richard…’ Quite forgetting her own feelings, Lexi went to him and put her hand on his arm. He looked down at it, but made no move to take it.

‘Then there’s the question of my future,’ he went on.

‘How?’

‘The Deverell estates are not entailed. My father is free to leave Channings and everything else he owns to anyone he chooses. The only certain income I have comes from what my mother left me.’

‘No! He couldn’t cut you out of your inheritance! It wouldn’t be right! You love Channings even more than he does!’

Richard said wearily, ‘He resents my very existence. How do I know what he might or might not do?’

‘But you haven’t done anything to justify such a terrible thing!’

‘Except to be born. To survive, when my mother didn’t.’

Lexi’s heart twisted at the bitterness in Richard’s voice. But she rallied and said passionately, ‘I don’t believe for one moment that Lord Deverell will cut you out of his will! He must at least be aware of what he owes to his name, if not to you personally. Channings would never survive without you! No, Richard, you must not even think it! And there’s still time for him to make some gesture towards you.’

‘A deathbed reconciliation? Most unlikely. But I’ll try. Alexandra, I’m sorry if I hurt you. Will you forgive me? We’ve always been friends. I wouldn’t want to lose you.’

‘Friends?’ She gave a wry smile. ‘Always, Richard. Forever.’

The Season came to an end and Lexi thanked her godmother and went back to Somerset. Lady Wroxford was reluctant to let her go.

‘I’ve enjoyed your company, my dear,’ she said. ‘Johnny is all Rawdon, but you… You may have the Rawdon hair, but you have the same lovely eyes as your dear mother. And you are like her in so many other ways.’ She hesitated. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t find a husband to please you. I had great hopes for you when you came.’

‘Ma’am, please don’t blame yourself. No one could have been kinder or more concerned. But my heart was given away before I really knew I had one. There will never be anyone else for me.’

Lady Wroxford nodded sadly. ‘I hope Mr Deverell will eventually realise what a treasure he could have in you, but you’ll have to be patient. At the moment his future is so uncertain that no man of honour could ask a girl to share it. From what Honoria Standish says, his mother’s estate would hardly give him enough to live on.’

Lexi stared at her, then her face lit up. ‘You think that’s the reason he…? What a fool! What a great fool he is! As if I cared about his wretched inheritance! Oh, just wait till I see him!’

Her godmother looked very worried. ‘No, no, you mustn’t say anything, Lexi! Mr Deverell may be very fond of you, in fact, I’m sure he is, but love…? That I do not know. But I am also sure he’s a proud man, willing to ask favours of no one, not even someone he loved. You’ve learned a lot of restraint since coming to London, and my advice is to hold on to it now. This isn’t a child’s game, and you mustn’t think it is. No rushing in in your old style, do you hear? You won’t gain anything by it.’

‘Yes, yes! But Richard and I are friends. I can say anything to him. He won’t be offended. If only I were sure he loved me…’

Her godmother sighed. ‘Well, remember, Lexi… If anything should ever go wrong, don’t wait to ask if you can come here. I should be very glad to help you all I can—for your own sake, as well as your mother’s.’

Lord Deverell died without any attempt at reconciliation, but he had after all left everything to his son. However, the situation between Richard and Lexi was not to be resolved for another year. Channings itself had been well looked after, but the rest of the Deverell estates—some of them in Scotland—had been neglected for so long that Richard was forced to travel for the rest of the year to make the acquaintance of managers and stewards who had never seen him before, in order to satisfy himself that his possessions were in good hands. For the most part they were. The late Lord Deverell had been better served than he merited.

So Lexi saw little of Richard during this time, and when he came back she had no time herself. Her own father was taken ill and they thought for a while that he was going to die. He needed weeks of careful nursing and Lexi spent long hours in the sick room with him. Richard frequently came to sit with Sir Jeremy, chatting to him about local affairs and his own plans for Channings, but after taking a look at Lexi’s pale cheeks and heavy eyes he always insisted she should go out for a ride with Johnny, or a walk in the grounds. They seldom spent more than five minutes in each other’s company, and hardly any time alone.

Then, to the consternation of all those who had rejoiced in his defeat the year before, Napoleon escaped from Elba. Out of the blue, Johnny and Richard were recalled to service by the only man who could have persuaded them to come back to the Army—their commander in the Peninsula, Wellington himself. Because of his father’s recent illness, Johnny was given a post in London, but Richard was sent all round Europe with letters for Vienna, Brussels and the headquarters of other Allies as they all prepared for Napoleon’s attack.

He returned to London in the spring of 1815 and joined Johnny, who was acting as one of Wellington’s Liaison Officers at the Horse Guards. And at Easter they came down to Somerset for a whole week.

It was not altogether a happy visit. Richard seemed more than usually reserved, and Johnny was frequently moody, on edge and irritable. He was drinking more than he should, too. Lexi tried once or twice to ask him what was wrong, but he always put her off, and in the end she decided that if anyone was in Johnny’s confidence it would be Richard. But she had to wait till the day before they left before she could ask him about her brother.

They had all three planned to visit the river bank again, but at the last minute Johnny lost his temper over some triviality and decided not to come. Lexi made no attempt to dissuade him. She could not afford to miss this golden opportunity to have a private chat with Richard…

The weather was warm and the Somerset countryside was at its loveliest—the lanes around Rawdon were lined with hedgerows full of greenish-yellow catkins and the bridal white of blackthorn. The banks and verges below were even more colourful with spikes of purple orchids surrounded by clumps of pale yellow primroses and the delicate wood anemones of spring. The river was full of activity as small animals and birds enjoyed the Easter sunshine and prepared to set up their families. Richard talked a lot of the old days, and, though she felt it was cowardly, Lexi was content to let him. Her own heart was full as she remembered how they had laughed years before at the antics of the otters, how she had wanted Richard to kiss her…

‘This is wonderful!’ he said, breathing in the fresh, sweet-scented air. ‘You’ve no idea how much I’ve longed for it. After all my travels, to come home to this…’ He turned to look at her. ‘And to you. How are you, Alexandra?’

It was so unexpected that Lexi felt herself colouring. ‘I…I…I’m well,’ she stammered. ‘But you know that. Why do you ask?’

‘What about Transden? Is he well, too?’

She looked at him in astonishment. ‘Transden? Mr Transden? I have no idea.’

‘Really?’ He sounded sceptical.

‘Well, of course I haven’t! Whatever made you think I should? I haven’t seen or heard of Mr Transden since last summer.’

‘Is that true?’

‘Of course it is! He was a delightful dancing partner, but nothing more. What is all this? Why are you so curious about him?’

‘Last year most of London thought you would marry him.’

‘I can’t help what people thought last year! But I assure you that I never had the slightest intention of marrying Mr Transden.’

‘Lady Wroxford—’ Richard began. He stopped and began again. ‘When I saw Lady Wroxford in London recently she implied he was…he was still interested in you. She even seemed to think he might eventually persuade you to change your mind.’

Lexi could guess what Lady Wroxford had been up to. Her godmother had been seeing what a touch of jealousy might do. She said firmly, ‘My godmother can’t really think anything of the kind. She knows very well who—’ She stopped short. She had nearly betrayed herself. ‘She knows I have no interest in Mr Transden,’ she said firmly, then went on, ‘We shall stop talking nonsense and discuss something more important. I want to ask you about Johnny. There’s something wrong with him and I want to know what it is.’

‘What do you mean?’ he asked. His tone was guarded.

‘Don’t put me off. I’ve asked Johnny himself, but he won’t talk to me. I’m worried about him, and I was hoping you’d help. He’s been so…so short-tempered, especially this morning. Not only with me, but with my father and the servants as well.’

‘He probably had a hangover,’ said Richard easily. ‘We talked till late last night, and the wine flowed pretty freely. Don’t worry, Alexandra. He’ll come round.’

‘Will he?’ She was still doubtful. ‘I wonder… I’m sure there’s more to it than that.’

‘A lot of the work we do at the Horse Guards is devilish dull, and Johnny gets bored. You know what he’s like. He enjoys fighting in the open, where you can see your enemy, and the dangers are obvious. Chasing secret documents and looking after them is not the sort of activity he joined the army for.’

‘I can quite see that. But why are you and Johnny doing such work? I thought you were still on active service?’

‘We are! This is very active service, but it’s not the kind Johnny is used to. Napoleon’s spies would give their right arm to know some of the details in the Duke’s letters—where he needs the men, what sort of defences, all the rest.’ He added with a touch of impatience, ‘I sometimes think Boney’s spies are more interested in what Wellington needs than those fools in charge at the Horse Guards! And there’s always someone willing to sell information…’

He stopped, and they walked for a moment on in silence. They came to a halt at the stile. Here she paused. ‘Tell me, Richard,’ she said abruptly. ‘Is Johnny drinking?’

‘Of course. We all do!’

‘Don’t be so evasive! You know what I mean. Is Johnny drinking too much?’

Richard hesitated. ‘Perhaps. Certainly more than he used to. But don’t worry, Alexandra. He’s restless, but he’ll be himself again as soon as we rejoin the regiment. It can’t be long now—this break has come just in time. I doubt we’ll still be here in England after next month.’

This was a shock. Lexi swallowed and said, ‘I suppose that means you’ll both be going into battle.’

‘It looks very likely. This time it will be against Napoleon himself, not just his seconds-in-command the way it was in Spain. It won’t be quite so easy. Wellington is up to it. If he gets enough men.’

‘And I expect you’ll both feel happier. But it’s…it’s hard for us. We can only sit at home and hope you don’t get yourselves killed!’ She tried to laugh, but it turned into a sob halfway through.

He stopped in surprise and turned to face her. ‘Johnny and I will be all right, I promise. My dear girl, you mustn’t cry! Don’t, Alexandra! Please!’

‘I know I’m stupid,’ she replied, trying to wipe away the tears with her hand. ‘You and Johnny came back unharmed from Spain. It’s just…it’s just that Papa and I had hoped the wars were ended, and that Johnny would soon be at home for good. Papa is getting old and…and needs him.’ She scrubbed more vigorously as another tear rolled down her cheek.

‘Here, let me do that!’

He took out an immaculate handkerchief and, taking her chin in his hand, wiped her cheek. He finished, but the hand stayed under her chin, and he gazed at her intently. ‘And what about me, Alexandra?’ he asked softly. ‘Do you need me?’

She couldn’t stop herself. Looking at him with her heart in her eyes, she said simply, ‘More than my life.’

He drew a sharp breath. His lips barely moving, he said softly, ‘Do you remember asking me once if I wanted to kiss you, here at this stile?’

‘You said you didn’t.’

‘I lied to you. I wanted to all right, but you were too young. I had to wait. And then I kissed you at Vauxhall, and you were so angry… The kiss was everything I had dreamed of, but the waiting afterwards was even harder. Alexandra, if you knew how much that first time here by the stile has haunted me, how I have tried to forget it… But I never have. And now… If you were to ask me again if I wish to kiss you, I’ll tell you the truth this time.’ He put an arm round her, and lifted her chin. Gazing deep into her eyes, he said softly, ‘Ask me again, Alexandra.’

‘Do you…do you want to kiss me, Richard?’

He smiled and then began to kiss her, at first gently, as if she were something infinitely precious, then, feeling her response, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her eyes, her chin, her throat, seeking and finding the pulse beating wildly there. Then he took her into his arms and the kisses became more demanding. He seemed to envelop her, holding her so closely that she thought she could feel every bone and muscle of his body. Lexi’s own bones were melting with delight. She felt no shame. This was where she wanted to be, this was what she had waited for all her life, or so it seemed. She was impatient to be absorbed by him, become part of him, she was nothing without him…

After a moment he took a deep breath and held her away. ‘I…I think that’s enough for the moment,’ he said somewhat unsteadily. ‘Dear God, Alexandra, you have such power over me. No one else can make me forget the world and everything else in it as you do.’

‘Richard?’ she whispered, unaware of the pleading note in her voice.

‘We mustn’t go any further,’ he said, roughly. He gave an incredulous laugh. ‘You are…totally desirable. But we mustn’t go any further. You know that, don’t you?’

When she looked away from him without saying anything, he gave her a little shake. ‘Don’t you, Alexandra?’

She nodded. Then, taking her hands in his, he kissed her gently and said, ‘We only have to wait a little longer, my lovely one. My lovely, and…very dear Alexandra. Wait till after this business with the French is over. Then at long last it will be time to talk about our future…’