“You are not very good at disguising your emotions, Alaina. Besides, what other gentleman did you know in that group?”
“None, but how am I to know if he feels the same?” Alaina asked the question that had been on her mind most of the past few days.
“It would be entirely up to him, but I imagine he would have given you something of a clue?” came Edward’s assurance and question all rolled into one. There was no way of knowing if the man had made any proclamations to his daughter. It was tough to see one’s child distraught over a possible unrequited love; it was one problem that he could not fix.
“Clues?! To think they would be so clear. From my first meeting with Christopher, he has been equal parts surly and taciturn, and yet…”
“Yet, what?” Edward asked softly.
“And yet, he looks at me as if I was his whole world, like he wants to know everything about me. He defends me when he has no obligation to do so. He is charming in one minute, and then ignores me the next,” Alaina said, everything coming out in a tumble. She did not wish to share every detail, especially not the kiss they had shared, but she desperately wanted her father’s advice. “We talked the last night of the party. He offered me some insight into his heart, told me he could not stop thinking of me, but then… then he refused to answer if the idea of marriage was ever in the cards.”
Edward listened to his daughter intently, amazed at the emotions that played across her face, and all the small exchanges between her and Christopher that spoke of an all-encompassing love, one he had experienced with his wife, Charlotte. Finally, it was his turn to speak.
“Refused? It sounds to me that it is not a question of if he loves you, but if he is smart enough to share his life with you, and that is not something you can control.” Edward paused, his expression growing pensive. “I am curious why he has not come to see you since you have been in London, or at least seen to my welfare as an excuse to call. Has he written?”
“No! I have received letters from Georgiana, Eleanor, and even Graham, but nothing from Christopher,” Alaina burst, a sob wracking her body. Her sadness turned quickly to anger. “I did not even see him before I left Ashford to come back to London. We never got to finish our conversation! He must have been completely content to let me leave and never see me again. Perhaps he does not love me as I hoped. Perhaps I have misread everything!”
Edward’s brows lowered, his face taking on an ominous look, but his words to his daughter were ones of reassurance. “I am sure there is some explanation.”
Alaina scowled. “The first reason that comes to mind is that he does not feel anything for me.”
Cresting the hill closest to the manor house on his estate, Christopher brought his horse down to a walk, for a much-needed break for rider and animal. In the week since Alaina had left Ashford and traveled to London to see to her father’s welfare, Christopher had found it difficult to move on from what he thought was an amazing connection with the lady who had captured his heart. He had not heard the outcome of Graham’s proposal, but had assumed its conclusion. Who would turn down the offer of marriage from a duke, let alone one so charming? After the news of Alaina’s father, and their quick departure, it was not in Christopher’s heart to stay at Ashford. He had quietly left a note for Graham, Georgiana, and Eleanor before departing for his own country estate, Waverley Place in Rochester, situated directly between Ashford and London.
A manor house stood at the end of a large, winding drive, covered by old trees that bespoke of the history of the property and house itself. Where Ashford contained a fairly new manor house, the old one having fallen into disrepair one or two generations ago, Waverley Place was built in medieval times with large turrets at each corner. The outer wall of the keep had long been reduced to a few sections of low walls surrounding the outer gardens, about half their original height. The old moat was left as a water feature, with lily pads and various other wildlife occupying the deep ravine. Where the entrance of the house stood, a more permanent bridge had long since been constructed, replacing the old portcullis that had once been lowered to allow for safe passage of the residents, keeping unwelcome guests safely outside the fortress. Inside the now-reduced curtain walls, the keep had been modernized and updated, but the main structure still stood as it had centuries ago.
As Christopher approached the side of the house, he had a clear view of the front bridge and drive, as well as a partially obstructed view of the gardens in the front of the house, where large rose bushes stood to welcome guests. In the summer, the bushes would fill with blood red, pearl white, and dusty pink blooms. At this time of year, though, the bushes resembled more of a tangle of thorns, but their size was still impressive and, in some cases, imposing. To the marquess, they meant he was home, even if this particular home had not been an overly happy one during his childhood years.
Christopher was about to dismount and walk his horse the remainder of the distance to the stables, tucked into a large crevice in the old keep walls, when he heard a horse racing down the pebbled drive behind him. Not able to see who approached around the bends in the long drive, Christopher cautiously made his way to the front of the manse to await whoever was making their way to Waverley. He had not been expecting company.
At the last moment, the horse and rider came into view, quickly galloping across the bridge and stopping just short of where Christopher had been waiting. It was clear that the rider and horse had been pushing hard, the stallion breathing heavily and frothing at the bit. Graham was breathing more easily than his horse, but a sheen of sweat on his brow gave away his effort, especially in the cool weather of March.
“Graham! To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” Christopher called out to his friend, surprised and curious about when he had started the journey, considering it was a full day’s ride from Ashford. “I hope all is well? Shall we stable the horses and head inside?”
“Ho, Christopher! Greetings to you as well. I am afraid what I have come to say will be best shared outside,” came Graham’s flat response.
Christopher found it odd that his friend would be curt. Finding it difficult to remain nonchalant, Christopher forged ahead with a joking tone, or at least the best he could muster. “What is this? Is there trouble in paradise?”
Based on his own reaction to seeing his lifelong friend in the midst of his pending nuptials, Christopher had much doubt as to whether he would be able to tolerate the actual wedding. He had hoped to be given enough time to allow himself to offer a proper congratulations.
“Paradise? What in the world are you talking about?” Graham shot back, exasperated. “I was coming to see why you have not seen fit to visit Alaina in London at all in the past week. To be honest, I was not going to press the matter, but Georgiana insisted that Idealwith this after she received word from Alaina on Edward’s recovery in the past week, and their lack of visitors, as I am your closest friend.”
“Why would I visit Alaina? It seems quite inappropriate given the two of you are now engaged.” Christopher felt confused;what in the world was his friend talking about?
“Engaged?!” Graham exclaimed, raking his hands through his hair. “It seems I was blind to what was going on, but according to Georgiana, Alaina’s letters always inquire afteryou.”
Christopher studied his friend, for the first time questioning his understanding of events from a week ago. “But I thought… I heard her say she was completely charmed.”
“And I expect that since you were eavesdropping, you heard that she was not as charmed as she should be, and did not think our courtship should continue. It seems she was not in love with me.” At this last statement Graham relaxed a bit in his saddle, slumping his shoulders.
At a loss for words, wanting to comfort his friend, but also to celebrate his own good fortune, Christopher stayed mute.
“Well, are you not going to say something?” Graham stated quietly, willing his friend to snap out of his trance.
Still stuck in his assumed version of events, Christopher only mouthed, “not engaged.”
“Yes, we have been through that,” snapped Graham. “It is my mother’s and sister’s firm opinion that she is in love with you, and I am compelled to ask: what the hell are you doinghere,wasting an opportunity with Alaina? I certainly would never have let her slip away.”
Finally, Christopher was able to grasp what his friend was telling him. “I am truly sorry to have hurt you, my friend. I never intended to become entranced by Alaina, to be sure. I am not totally sure if Alaina would have me.”
