Page 86 of A Stolen Heart

Suddenly she shot upright, her memory returning in a rush. She and Sebastian had made love last night! She looked around the room. There was no evidence of Sebastian’s presence; no remnant of clothing, no boots. It made her feel strangely empty, and she wondered for an instant if what she remembered had been only a dream. But, no, that could not have been something she imagined.

There was a rap at the door, and she jumped, startled.

“Alexandra? Are you up?” It was Sebastian’s voice, and her pulse skittered at the sound of it.

“Yes. Come in.” Alexandra grabbed the sheet that had fallen to her waist and pulled it up, tucking it under her arms.

Sebastian opened the door and stuck his head in cautiously. The look on his face was a trifle uncertain, an oddity that made Alexandra feel even more nervous. What did he feel for her? What had last night meant for him? Alexandra was as certain as she was of her name that she loved him. But what of him? Had last night been love or only a moment’s pleasure?

He pushed the door wider and stepped inside, carrying a tray of food. “I brought your breakfast. Our highwayman is up and tucking into a substantial breakfast. He says we have to hurry to reach the village before the London mail coach arrives.”

Sebastian set the tray on Alexandra’s lap and stepped back awkwardly. Alexandra looked at the food before her, suddenly unable to meet his gaze. Two people who were used to being in command, normally sure of themselves, were tangled in a web of uncertainty, strangely shy and uncomfortable.

The moment he had awakened this morning, Sebastian had been seized with the dread that Alexandra would regret what had happened last night. He had washed and dressed, riddled with the fear that she would reject his proposal of marriage. Last night, a little drunk and in the throes of his desire, it had seemed perfectly sensible to him. He loved her; they would get married; and the slight prematurity of their honeymoon night would not matter. In the cold light of dawn, he was not so certain. Alexandra was an unpredictable woman, opinionated and strong. What if she did not love him? What if she turned him down?

All the way up the stairs with the tray, he had been rehearsing his proposal speech. It had sounded stilted and stupidly formal, even in his mind. Now, looking at Alexandra sitting in the bed, enticingly bare-shouldered, the sheet pulled over her breasts but not quite concealing their thrust and the dark circles of her nipples, he was shaken by desire and an equally strong certainty that she would find his proposal idiotic.

It was the place, he thought. He could not relax in the highwayman’s den, unsure whether the man would turn them loose or take them to the woods and shoot them, robbing their dead bodies. He needed to be alert for any sign of treachery on Moore’s part. Later, when he and Alexandra were alone, free of Moore and his men—that was when he would tell her. The words would come naturally then; he would be able to speak freely, to talk Alexandra out of any doubts she might have.

He gave her a stiff smile and said, “I, uh, I’ll just go downstairs, keep an eye on our friend.”

“All right.” Alexandra’s heart sank. She could see Sebastian’s nervousness; it fairly radiated from him. He regretted what they had done last night; she was certain of it. He was worried that she would expect something from him, some declaration of love or even a marriage proposal.

Tears sprang into her eyes, but she blinked them away and gave him a smile that matched his. “I will be down soon.”

He turned and left with visible relief. Alexandra felt like throwing the tray of food at the door. Instead, she set it aside and got out of bed. She washed and dressed, giving herself a mental lecture all the while. She had not expected Sebastian to love her; she had wanted him and had been willing to assume the risk. She had gotten what she wanted, and now it was over. It was absurd to think that he loved her; she irritated him to death. They were like oil and water. And it was ludicrous to think that he might marry her; she was an American of dubious origin, no match for a British aristocrat. Everyone knew that British aristocrats married to suit their position, not for love.

By the time she was through, she still felt like crying, but at least she had managed to stuff it down where it would not show. That, she told herself, was what was important. She would show Sebastian that she did not expect anything from him, that last night had meant nothing more to her than it had to him.

The ride to the village was a quiet one, broken only now and then by Jack Moore’s chatter. But his irrepressible spirits soon flagged under the leaden weight of Sebastian’s and Alexandra’s stiff silence. He blindfolded them again and led them, though this time they had their own horses. They plodded along for what seemed hours before Moore finally stopped and removed their blindfolds.

After that he no longer had to lead them, and they moved more quickly. Finally Moore pulled his horse to a stop and turned to face the others. “It is less than a mile into the village. I, ah, am not eager to be seen there, so I fear that I shall have to take your mounts away from you.”

“Of course.” Sebastian dismounted and turned to help Alexandra, but she had already scrambled down by herself and stood waiting like a statue. She did not look at him, and his stomach tightened. He was certain that she would scorn his proposal.

Moore looked at them curiously but made no comment about their odd manner this morning. He dismounted and took the reins of their horses.

“Walk in that direction.” He pointed. “Before long you will come to the village. The mail coach will be here in less than an hour. I bid you farewell. I enjoyed your company very much. Perhaps we will meet again.”

“Here.” Sebastian reached into the pocket of his jacket. “Let me give you something for your trouble.” His hand closed on emptiness.

A pearly grin split the highwayman’s tanned face. “Do not worry, my lord.” He turned and leaped lithely into the saddle, reaching into an inner pocket of his coat and pulling out a small leather bag, which he dangled for a moment. “It is already mine.”

With that, he wheeled his horse and took off, the other two mounts clattering after him. Sebastian stared after him, openmouthed. Alexandra began to giggle, and Sebastian shot her a look.

“That blackguard!”

“Well, he never made much pretense that he was anything but a thief.”

“Laugh away,” Sebastian snapped irritably. “I’d like to know how we are going to make it to London now.”

“My pin money.” Alexandra felt a trifle better now that she had laughed. She turned up the hem of her skirt and bent to unpin a folded bill from her petticoat. “I always carry a little something in case of emergency.”

She handed the note to Sebastian, who looked at it and said grimly, “At least we’ll be able to get to London, though scarcely in style. I had planned to take the mail coach to a larger town where I could hire a post chaise. It looks now as if it will be the mail coach for us the whole way.”

AS IT TURNED OUT, ALEXANDRA was glad they were forced to take the mail coach. Though it was scarcely an easy or elegant ride, and they stopped at seemingly every hamlet they passed through, at least she and Sebastian were not condemned to sit together in strained silence the whole way. Crushed in among the other passengers, their lack of conversation was not noticeable, and the variety of passengers occupied her interest well enough that she did not have to sit sunk in her own gloom. Sebastian, who did not seem to share her interest in their fellow travelers, spent most of the journey gazing out the window or leaning back against the seat with his eyes closed. They did not have to deal with one another except for the times when they debarked at an inn to get a meat pie or a juicy apple to eat.

It amazed Alexandra that it took so long to travel the same amount of distance that they had covered in the balloon in a few hours the day before. She was thoroughly weary when at last the coach pulled into London, and she had also grown rather tired of the constant presence of other people. There was nothing she wanted so much as to shut the door, climb into her own bed and sleep for at least a day.