Marguerite Kaye – The Earl's Countess Of Convenience (страница 10)

She was gazing up at the house, frowning, as he joined her, and he looked up automatically to see what had piqued her interest, catching a glimpse of two female faces at a window. ‘Your sisters resuming their spying mission, I presume.’

‘I’m afraid so.’

Alexander swept into an elaborate courtly bow, making Eloise giggle. One of the watching sisters had the presence of mind to drop a curtsy before dragging the other out of sight. He turned away. ‘Which direction shall we take?’

‘This way. There is a walled garden quite out of sight of the house.’

He followed her, feeling slightly dazed, as if he had unexpectedly won a prize, and he wasn’t at all sure that he deserved it. Eloise’s hair was the colour of polished bronze in the daylight. Her eyes were hazel, wide-spaced under winged brows. She had a sprinkling of freckles across her nose. It made her tawny beauty less flawless and therefore more interesting. There was a determined tilt to her chin that didn’t surprise him, now he knew her a little better, but her lips, full, sensuous, quite belied her claim to a cold nature. In fact, he knew, for he had witnessed it, that she was compassionate, and he had overwhelming evidence of her love for her sisters. It was not love which repelled her, but passion, and what little she’d told him of her parents’ marriage made her feelings entirely understandable. It should be a crime, the damage parents could do to their children.

Eloise did not trip along taking tiny steps, nor did she try to glide, but walked with a easy gait that he had to make only a small adjustment to match. Though the matter was far from settled, for the first time since he had made the decision to take a wife, Alexander didn’t feel utterly dejected. In fact, glancing at the surprising woman walking beside him, he felt—no, not elated, that was absurd, but he really couldn’t quite believe his luck.

The walled garden had been a crumbling ruin when Eloise and her sisters first arrived at Elmswood Manor, she informed him as they wandered around the perimeter. ‘It was my favourite place,’ she said, ‘I thought of it as my private domain, because back then the door was stuck fast and you could only get in by climbing over the wall.’

‘You must have been very adept at climbing. It’s at least fifteen feet.’

‘I told you, we grew up in the wilds of rural Ireland. There wasn’t much to do save climb hills and trees if you are not the sewing samplers sort, which I am not. I’ve always thought samplers such a waste of stitches which would be far better served making clothes.’

‘You are a needlewoman as well as a scaler of heights! Do you include gardening in your list of impressive attributes?’

‘Oh, no, that is Kate’s domain. This is her project, though all three of us helped her with the research—poring through the archives in the attics, to see what we could uncover regarding the history of the place. When Estelle found a map...’

He listened with half an ear as they completed their circuit of the garden. Her love for her sisters was genuine and profound, her affection for Lady Elmswood evident too. ‘Are you sure leaving here won’t be too much of a wrench?’ he asked, steering her towards a convenient bench.

‘It will be odd, but it will be good for us all in the long run. We can’t be together for ever, huddled up like hothouse flowers.’ She sat down, staring distractedly out at the gardens, biting her lip. ‘Alexander, I have no wish to embarrass either of us, but there is a topic of a delicate nature that I feel I must raise.’

He waited, for it was obvious from her expression that she was girding her loins.

‘I’ve told you that I am not—I told you that I would not consider a real marriage because that sort of—that aspect of marriage doesn’t—isn’t for me.’ Her cheeks were bright red, but she held his gaze steadfastly until he nodded. ‘But that doesn’t mean that you cannot—you might wish to find some comfort in someone else’s arms. I would not—’ She broke off, completely flustered. ‘Goodness, this is mortifying. Please, I beg you, forget what I said. Let us change the subject.’

He happily would, but unfortunately she was in the right of it. ‘It’s better we discuss it now, don’t you think, no matter how awkward it is?’

‘Awkward is rather an understatement.’

‘Then let me see if I can make it easier for you, now that you’ve been brave enough to bring it up.’ Though how to do so, Alexander puzzled. He ought to have anticipated this, but he hadn’t, principally because it was a facet of his life that had been a closed book for almost precisely two years. He couldn’t tell Eloise the truth, but he owed her a version of it.

‘There have been women in my life,’ he said. ‘though my affaires have always been extremely short-lived. I am by nature a loner, and have never wished for any more intimate arrangement.’

And, even if he had, it would have been contrary to every rule in the book. He’d known that, and yet to his eternal regret he’d allowed it to happen anyway, telling himself it didn’t matter because he didn’t care enough, succumbing to temptation because he was heartily sick of being alone in a foreign land. He’d taken comfort in her admittedly beguiling company. If only he had put an end to it sooner. Or better still, before it started. The entire episode had been a mistake. The biggest mistake he’d ever made. He’d learned the hard way that the rules he’d so cavalierly broken were there for good reason. The guilt he had carried with him ever since made his chest tighten. He would never risk a repeat. Never!

Perhaps now was not the time for subtlety, after all. ‘Love,’ Alexander said bluntly. ‘That is what I mean. I am not interested in love, I have never been in love, and have no ambition whatsoever to change that. Love is anathema to me.’

Eloise blinked at his fierce tone. ‘Well, you are preaching to the converted on that subject.’

‘As to the idea of my finding comfort in another’s arms—all I can say is that at the moment, I have absolutely no interest or intention to do so.’ Which was the truth, and not one he could imagine changing. Was it a life sentence? At this point, Alexander decided the question irrelevant. ‘Does that answer your question?’

‘Yes,’ Eloise said, though she looked unconvinced.

‘What is it?’

‘The thing is, I can’t help but wonder what your family and friends will think of your sudden and dramatic conversion to conjugal bliss, given that you so adamantly do not wish to be married. I expect that this cousin of yours, who stands to inherit all, will be counting the days now, until he lays his hands on a fortune.’

‘According to my lawyer, Raymond has been counting the days since Walter died, and for some months now has been borrowing heavily against his anticipated windfall. With only a few weeks to go until my birthday, he will think he is home and dry. He will get a very nasty surprise when he reads the notice of my nuptials.’

‘Will he have grounds to challenge your inheritance if he can prove that the marriage is one of convenience?’

‘Hardly, considering that half if not more of every marriage which has property at stake is arranged for the convenience of the families concerned. But I’ve been thinking, Eloise, about what you said.’

‘I’ve said a lot. One might argue that I’ve said too much. Which of my many utterances in particular has struck you?’

‘I should warn you, I have one of those minds which registers every word. Don’t say anything to me you’d rather I forgot.’

She laughed, mock horrified. ‘Now you tell me! Good grief, I shall have to wear one of those contraptions like a muzzle that they used to punish women who talked too much. What was it called?’

‘A scold’s bridle?’

‘That’s it.’

He burst out laughing. ‘What on earth will you say next! I am going to be hanging on your every word, not silencing you, if we are to persuade the world that we have fallen madly in love.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I think it would be best all round, if we had a—what do they call it?—a whirlwind romance.’

‘To have met and married in a matter of weeks is not so much a whirlwind as a tornado.’

Alexander grinned. ‘We’ll need to concoct a suitably credible story.’

‘We’ll need more than a story. Are you saying that we will have to pretend to have fallen in love?’

‘How difficult can it be, people do it all the time.’

‘You never have. I most certainly have not. Why would we do such a thing? You said that marriages of convenience...’

‘Are common, and they are, and I meant it when I said that my cousin would have no grounds to challenge our union, but I’d far rather he did not waste my time or my lawyer’s time by trying.’

‘And if he believed it a love match, you think he wouldn’t?’

‘I can’t be sure, but if everyone else believed us too—do you see?’

‘Yes, but...’

‘And then there was your remark about the world accusing you of being a gold-digger. I know it couldn’t be further from the truth, but—I’m sorry...’

‘I’m a nonentity from the sticks with no dowry,’ Eloise said wryly. ‘Of course it’s what they will think.’

‘So we must persuade them instead that we are genuinely in love.’