“Eliminate Charlotte Bradshaw immediately, though,” he interrupted. “Her brother is addicted to making poor wagers, and if I become his relation-in-law, he’ll expect me to make good on them. In fact, review the entire list. The fewer familial connections any of them have, the better.”
“But you wanted them to be of good family.”
“Good,deadfamily would be preferable.”
“My lord, this is not an easy task you’ve—”
“I want a list of fifteenacceptablefemales by Friday morning. Is that clear?”
Mr. Mullins sighed and crumpled his piece of paper. “Yes, my lord. Very clear. I shall see to it at once.”
Alexandra barely set eyes on Lord Kilcairn over the next day and a half. She would have said that he was avoiding her, except that he didn’t seem the type. It was more likely that he was avoiding his cousin and his aunt. As she was almost constantly in Rose’s company, his absence made more sense when explained that way. She told herself she was thankful, because preparing for the dinner party was going to be difficult enough without his sharp-edged commentary.
Even so, she couldn’t help feeling a bit…disturbed. Whenever she closed her eyes, she could feel his lips on hers, his hands running down her back, and the tall, solid strength of him. His absence gave her time to think and consider what drew her to him.
What it didn’t do, though, was give her a chance to tell him exactly what she thought of his forward behavior—as if she knew what to say, anyway. The proper thing would be to inform him of her displeasure, and to let him know that from this point on she expected him to behave like a gentleman. That, however, would preclude him from ever kissing her again—a thought that didn’t please her one bit.
The door connecting her room and Rose’s rattled and opened. “Lex? May I come in?”
“Of course, Rose. Let me take a look at you.”
The girl hesitated in the doorway, then stepped into Alexandra’s bedchamber. Madame Charbonne had selected a light blue silk gown for Rose’s first public outing tonight. Seeing her charge, her blond hair piled atop her head and a thin strand of pearls kissing her throat, Alexandra could only agree. “You look splendid.”
Rose blushed. “Oh, thank you. I’m so nervous.”
“Just don’t let it show.” Alexandra finished tying her own hair back in a green ribbon that matched the scattering of flowers across her gown. The creation looked decidedly ungovernesslike, but it was the most lovely thing she’d ever owned.
“You look so pretty,” Rose said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Thank goodness cousin Lucien let you stay up here, instead of putting you down in the servants’ quarters. If he’d done that, we’d never have been able to chat like this.”
Alexandra paused. “Your previous governesses didn’t stay in this bedchamber?”
“Oh, no. Lucien said he didn’t want them cluttering up the place. They stayed downstairs where Wimbole and Mr. Mullins and the other servants have their quarters. They’re very good rooms, but too small to keep a decent wardrobe in. And Shakespeare wouldn’t have liked it at all, either.” She petted the terrier napping on Alexandra’s pillow.
“No, I imagine not.”
At the Welkins’ estate she’d had servants’ quarters, though at other country manors she’d been given larger or smaller accommodations, depending on the houses’ size. For some reason it hadn’t occurred to her that her quarters here were unusual, though now she couldn’t believe she’d been so naive. She wondered what Lord Kilcairn’s other employees must think of her, and what they said to their fellows at other houses.
“Are you feeling well?” Rose asked into the silence.
She started. “Yes, quite.”
“Good. Because I think I should faint dead away if I had to go to the Howards’ without you to help me.”
Alexandra went over to sit beside the girl. “Don’t worry, Rose. It’s going to be a small party, as Lord Kilcairn said. And everyone will expect you to be a little nervous. If you get confused about something, just look at me. I’ll be close by, and we’ll manage splendidly.”
She didn’t voice her concern over one very significant item: Mrs. Fiona Delacroix. The earl had promised to see to her, but his comments tended to aggravate rather than quiet his aunt. Rose didn’t need an additional cause to fret, though, so Alexandra kept her silence and hoped that Lord Kilcairn would keep his word.
He was down in the foyer when she and Rose descended the stairs, and abruptly she realized how nervousshewas at spending any length of time in his company. She still had no idea what to say to him about their kiss, and he was sure to bring it up at the first opportunity.
She sent up a quick prayer that he wouldn’t mention her folly in front of his relations—or in front of anyone else. She couldn’t bear it if the rumors were to start again. She hadn’t precisely encouraged Lord Kilcairn, though she hadn’t resisted him as strenuously as she had Lord Welkins, either. She hadn’t resisted Lucien at all, really.
The earl watched her approach, his eyes hooded in the half darkness of the foyer. “Good evening ladies,” he said in his low drawl, coming forward.
“My lord.”
“Mama will be down any moment now,” Rose said, curtsying and still looking extremely nervous. “I’m afraid she…wasn’t very happy with Madame Charbonne’s gown.”
Alexandra didn’t blame the girl’s hesitation in speaking, given her cousin’s typical reaction to her. She readied a soothing comment in case he answered in his usual caustic fashion.
