girl,” she whispered, the confession falling like drops of water from a leaf, “I love him.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Dear C,
How, exactly, do you know Lydia Kellaway?
Sincerely,
Jane
Alexander didn’t move. He watched Lydia as she stood inside the doorway of his drawing room, her hands twisted in front of her, her skin as pale as milk. A dark storm brewed in her eyes.
He cleared his throat. “I beg your pardon?”
“I said I accept your proposal, my lord,” Lydia repeated. “I will marry you, should… should you still desire the union.”
I will marry you. The words he’d longed to hear since the night he’d proposed. A cautious hope began to form.
He approached Lydia, his boots soundless on the carpet. She drew back closer to the door.
“What has brought on this change of heart?” he asked.
“You told my grandmother.” An accusatory tone sharpened her voice.
“Because I knew she would see reason.”
“Well, then? You’ve got what you want. I said I’ll marry you.”
Alexander scraped a hand through his hair. Although she spoke the words he desperately wanted to hear, unease twisted through him. He’d wanted Mrs. Boyd to convince Lydia to marry him, but something was still wrong—and he’d no idea what.
“Why?” he asked.
“I don’t wish our relationship to cause suspicion of impropriety. I take full responsibility, of course, as I’m the one who initiated… things. And because of that, I must do what I can to rectify the situation.”
“So you’ll marry me to stifle a scandal of which there is yet no evidence.”
Her eyes flew to his. “I don’t mean to imply that’s my only motive, but I know you understand the necessity of avoiding gossip.”
Alexander was silent. He studied her for a moment, attempting to read beneath the surface of her contained demeanor.
“Two weeks ago you were adamant in your claim you would never marry,” he said. “You were equally adamant that you would never marry me. Now because I’ve spoken to your grandmother, you stand here not only willing to marry me, but also claiming your acceptance is a protective measure.”
“I… I refused before I knew that rumors were—”
“You refused because you did not want to marry,” Alexander interrupted. “Why did you allow your grandmother to change your mind?”
“I realized there is a possibility of damaging rumors.”
“That wasn’t enough to deter you from asking me to be your lover.”
A crimson flush bloomed across her cheeks. “I… I fear I behaved quite irrationally. I apologize. I should have maintained my sense of decency.”
Alexander stepped closer to her so she was backed against the door; then he cupped his hand beneath her chin and brought her face up. She still didn’t meet his gaze.
“You think”—his tone dropped dangerously low—“you think what we have done is indecent?”
Her jaw tightened against his palm. “A respectable woman does not engage in affairs.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
He moved his hand to the side of her neck, resting his thumb against the pulse that beat just underneath the surface of her skin. The movement of that little pulse revealed her emotions far more acutely than her words did. In a purposeful reminder of their very first encounter, right here in this room, he began to stroke her throat with slow movements of his thumb.
Lydia swallowed. A tremble coursed through her. Alexander stepped even closer, so close that not an inch separated them, so close that their bodies touched. So close that her clean scent filled the air he breathed.
He pressed his lips against the gentle hollow of her temple. Her pulse increased against his palm. He put his other hand against the door behind her. He moved his mouth lower, over her cheek to her ear.
“You think it’s been indecent, Lydia?” he whispered. “That you haven’t behaved respectably? Writhing naked in my bed? Letting me kiss your bare skin, touch your—”
“Alexander…” Her voice was strangled.
He inhaled the scent of her, brushing his lips across the soft skin of her neck. “Why didn’t you accept my first offer?”
“I… I should have.”
He pulled back to look at her, his breathing rapid. “Why didn’t you?”
Something appeared to harden within her—a resolve, a determination—and she lifted her eyes to his.
Alexander stared down at her, watching with a trace of fascination as Lydia’s mind worked behind her lovely blue eyes. It was like gazing at a clock, knowing all the gears, weights, and springs were operating in complex unison behind the perfect, pristine face, yet still having no idea how everything fitted together.
“Our finances are in a state of decline,” she said, her voice unwavering and