Seduced by a Scoundrel - By Barbara Dawson Smith Page 0,63
would have been thrown out on the street to starve.
Drake refilled her glass, his hand steady despite the movement of the coach. “Has your mother always been addled?”
“What has that to do with anything?”
“Has she?”
Regarding him warily, she sipped her champagne. “When I was younger … she had spells where she behaved more like a sister than my mother. She would climb trees with me. And help me dress my dolls.…” A smile wavered and died on Alicia’s mouth. “She also had episodes of melancholy, where she wept for days on end.”
“Did she ever tell you what disturbed her?”
Alicia shook her head. “Papa forbade me to visit her chambers during those times. He said she needed rest and quiet.”
“Her condition worsened after your father’s death.”
“Yes. She became…” —Alicia’s throat constricted with pain and helpless affection—“as she is now.”
Drake leaned toward her. “Did Lady Eleanor suffer a shock in her youth, something so unbearable that it could have overwhelmed her?”
Alicia blinked. “If you’re suggesting that Mama’s illness isn’t inheritable—”
“I am, indeed. Your mother is a gentle, sensitive woman. It is conceivable that her condition was brought on by a trauma of some sort. I saw a similar reaction once—” His voice broke off abruptly.
“What do you mean?” she asked, intrigued in spite of herself.
Turning his gaze to the carriage window, he said, “I once found a woman lying by the roadside in Whitechapel. She’d been beaten by her husband and left for dead.”
“Dear God,” Alicia whispered. “What happened to her?”
“While she recovered from her wounds, she would sit staring for hours, day after day. Then slowly she regained her senses. Some people, you see, are more resilient than others.”
She was touched that he would give aid to a stranger. Then her thoughts went to his theory, and she wanted to reject it. How could he know her situation better than she did?
Yet Alicia found herself wondering. Was it possible her fears were unfounded? That Mama’s condition was the result of unusually distressing events? Certainly, her mind had snapped after she’d witnessed the horrible circumstances of Papa’s death. But even before then, she had been a bit otherworldly.…
Alicia frowned into her glass, watching the bubbles rise to the surface and pop. It was absurd to imagine anyone had ever harmed her mother in her youth. From the tales Mama had once told, she’d enjoyed an idyllic childhood. And yet … Alicia had never known her grandparents; they had died in a cholera epidemic when Mama was sixteen. Shortly thereafter, Mama’s dearest friend Claire had perished as well. Were those losses enough to unbalance an impressionable girl?
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Drake said.
Looking up to see him watching her, the lamp casting shadows on his hard features, she shivered against an impossible rise of optimism. “I’m thinking it’s merely conjecture to suggest that my child wouldn’t be like Mama.”
“You’re perfectly sane—if maddening—and so is your brother. That proves I’m right.” His black lashes lowered slightly, veiling his thoughts. “And should you have any reservations about my suitability as a father, know this: I would never, ever forsake my child.”
Again, she sensed grim secrets in him. Had Drake lost his parents at a young age? His mother had been an actress. He had been born on the wrong side of the blanket, that much Mrs. Molesworth had divined from gossiping with the neighborhood servants. No one knew much about him beyond that he had come from the vast ranks of the London poor before winning his fortune and building his club.
His expression took on a subtle seductiveness, and his gaze moved lazily over her bosom. The promise in his rogue’s eyes held her enthralled. Never had she seen such raw resolve directed at her, a purely sexual intent that both frightened and fascinated her. How she longed to be a disciple to his erotic knowledge.…
“Alicia—”
The coach swayed and turned. His gaze flashed to the window. “We’re home,” he said, an alluring roughness in his tone. “Finish your champagne.”
What had he meant to say? That he wanted her beyond all reason?
She ought to dash the contents of her glass in his too-handsome face. That would cool his ardor.
Instead, she tilted back her head and recklessly drained every drop.
Chapter Fifteen
It was inevitable that he escort Alicia to her bedchamber. Inevitable that he dismiss her maid, a shy little mouse who bobbed a curtsy and darted from the room. Inevitable that he close the door and turn the key.