At least her student kept focused without any difficulty, Alexandra reflected. “You can marry one of her sons, though. Including the Marquis of Tarrenton.”
“He’s boring.”
“But he’s wealthy.”
“Oh, that’s better, then. All right.”
Alexandra stood and removed her things to another location, this time sitting at Rose’s left. “Besides,” she continued, “never assume that the person you are speaking to is the only one listening. You will be overheard, and whatever you say—or do—may be repeated.”
They were halfway through the exercise, and Rose was becoming more assured in her strategic delays, when someone scratched at the dining room door.
“Come in,” Alexandra called, hoping it wouldn’t be Kilcairn. All she needed was to have the acerbic earl destroy Rose’s new-forming confidence.
Rose’s maid, Penny, stepped into the room and bobbed her head in a curtsy. “Excuse me, but Mrs. Delacroix says it’s time for bed, Miss Rose. She says you need your sleep.”
Alexandra glanced at the porcelain clock sitting on one of the sideboards. “Oh, my. I hadn’t realized it was so late. We’ll continue in the morning, Rose.”
When the ladies had departed, Alexandra sighed and sat back in her chair. In reality she disliked the little tricks for delaying one’s replies, looking on them only as a necessity for covering a slow wit. Until Rose matured a little, however, she would need them. Alexandra couldn’t recall ever being as insecure as Miss Delacroix, but she’d been on her own since halfway through her seventeenth year. She hadn’t had time to hesitate. In fact, until the last six months, she had barely taken time to breathe.
Male voices exchanged greetings down in the foyer, and then Kilcairn’s familiar, assured boot-steps climbed the stairs. With a curse Alexandra straightened, wishing she’d held her reflections until after she’d returned safely to her bedchamber. She kept silent, hoping he would pass by, and knowing he wouldn’t.
“You gave up on her, did you?” the earl’s deep voice asked as he stopped in the doorway.
“I did not. She went to bed, just a few moments ago. And she is progressing quite well, thank you.”
He was wearing his evening attire, all black and gray and magnificent, and even while her mind registered him as dangerous and arrogant and his propositions as unacceptable, her pulse skidded and jumped, and her breath caught. Lord Kilcairn strolled forward to take the vacated seat beside her.
“Well enough to attend the party on Thursday?” he asked, looking with some curiosity at the empty plates and glasses and the littering of silverware on the table.
For a moment Alexandra wished she had an actual glass of wine—or better yet, whiskey—to sip. “Yes, I believe so. It would help, though, if you would be a bit kinder to her.”
“Trying to govern me, as well, are you, Alexandra?”
“It is the task you gave me, my lord.” She’d never realized her own name on someone else’s lips could have such…strength. But Kilcairn knew exactly what sort of effect it had on her. She could see it in his amused gray eyes, damn him. “Your cousin has very little self-confidence.”
“She’s so loud, no one would think it.”
“Her mother is loud. Rose barely says a word.” Alexandra sneaked a sideways look at his lean, dark profile as he sank back in the chair.
“They both yammer more than your dog.”
She refrained from pointing out that Shakespeare didn’t yammer. “Might I ask you a question?” she said instead.
He faced her, placing his elbow on the table and his chin in his hand. “Ask.”
Oh, my, he was beautiful. “Why do you dislike them so much?”
The earl lifted an eyebrow. “The harpies?”
“Yes.”
“That’s none of your affair.” Despite the words, his voice was quiet, a silky drawl that twined its leisurely way down Alexandra’s spine. “Suffice it to say that I do.”
“RatherRichard the Thirdof you, don’t you think?” Alexandra asked, keeping her outward self as calm as he appeared to be. He wouldn’t beat her in a battle of words; she wouldn’t allow it.
Kilcairn smiled, that sensuous, dark smile that made her breath stop. “‘Since I cannot prove a lover / To entertain these fair well-spoken days, / I am determined to prove a villain / And hate the idle pleasure of these days.’”
She shook her head, impressed once again. “No. More like the big bad king imprisoning his young, defenseless nephews in the Tower and then having them murdered.”
