Love's Guardian Read online

  Declan couldn’t keep up. He’d never known a woman with such a mercurial temperament. Did she have the slightest idea what she really wanted?

  He stared pointedly at her arm. “Our travel plans have been delayed due to unforeseen circumstances.”

  She had the grace to blush.

  “The doctor says you should be up in a couple of days. You’re lucky the bullet went through the fleshy part of your arm, missing the bone.”

  “Did you catch him?”

  “No, but I had men scouring the woods right after you were shot. The intruder managed to get by them. It had to have been a local who knew the terrain.” Declan gave a frustrated sigh. “Without your assailant, we have no way of tying this back to Addington. He, of course, maintains that it was an incompetent poacher.”

  Addington was lying. Declan didn’t doubt his instincts. The gun had been pointed directly at him. The man must be more desperate than he first thought. Perhaps Adrian should do a little checking into Addington’s affairs. His cousin had a talent for discovering the unsavory side of men like Alex’s cousin.

  He gripped the carved footboard and studied his ward. She didn’t appear to have any signs of fever. But her pale face and delicate form were swallowed up in the covers of her oversized poster bed. He’d almost lost her, all because her courage put her in the wrong place at the wrong time. “Lady Alexandra, I want you to forget what I said earlier. Stay away from Addington.” He raised a hand to keep her from speaking. “Let me deal with him. I’d also like you to remain close to the house until we leave for London.”

  “Is there anything else, my lord?”

  He couldn’t miss the sarcasm in her voice. Good, the old Alex was back. He preferred her arguments. When she was friendly, his thoughts strayed too often to the kiss they’d shared.

  “Not right now. If I think of something, I know where to find you.” He retrieved his black embroidered coat from the window seat and left the room. He hadn’t gone far before he turned and stuck his head back through the doorway. “In case I didn’t mention it, thank you for saving my life.” He closed the door before Alex’s pillow could hit him in the head.

  No matter how Alex shifted, she couldn’t get comfortable. She’d only been confined to bed for two hours, and she was already going mad. Relief washed over her at a tap on the door. Thank God, a visitor.

  Her cousin’s hushed voice sounded worried. “Alex, are you awake? I thought you might like something to eat.”

  “Come in, I’d love some company.”

  Eleanor entered carrying a tray, then made a startled sound when she stepped on a pillow.

  Alex grimaced. Damn, she’d forgotten to retrieve it. She must have looked guilty because her cousin stared at her with that “what have you been up to” look. “Oh, all right. I threw it at him.”

  “Who?”

  “Lord Worthington. The man is insufferable.”

  Eleanor set the tray on the bedside table. “I thought you were going to be nice.” She bent down, picked up the feather pillow, and propped it behind Alex’s shoulders. “He acted very worried about you. After the doctor left, he insisted on remaining by your bed. He seemed to be afraid that you could develop a fever.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” Alex settled back into the softness. “Lord Worthington’s only concern was that I might die before he could kill me. He was furious I was there to save his bloody neck.”

  Eleanor frowned at her. “Don’t swear.”

  Alex shook her head. “I’ll never understand him. I agree with him, tell him I need to marry, and then he decides not to believe me.”

  Eleanor froze in the middle of shaking out a napkin. “You what?”

  “I agreed with him.”

  “Why?” Eleanor sat on the edge of the bed and placed the filigree tray on Alex’s lap. “You’ve never liked being told what to do. Now you’re going to agree to his terms?” Eleanor glanced up from her task.

  Alex held her gaze. “Luther’s not going to stop. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

  “Meaning, Lord Worthington.”

  “Meaning, anyone. Besides, this is my home.” Alex glanced around at the room that had been hers for the last eight years. “My family, and many of the servant’s families have lived here for generations.” She picked up a piece of bread and concentrated on buttering it. “When I was taken from The Merry Elizabeth, I was devastated. No one gave me a choice. I was forced to leave the only security I’d known.

  “But as much as I loved life onboard ship, my roots are here. This time I’m going to fight.” Alex gave Eleanor a sudden grin. “Worthington’s right. I’ll have a greater selection of men to chose from in London. I don’t have to marry just anyone. I need to find a special kind of man.” She tapped her index finger against her lips. What did she want in a husband? “Eleanor, would you write a list for me?”

  Eleanor appeared puzzled, but went to the writing desk in the corner, sat down, and laid out the quill, ink, and paper. “What do you want at the top of the page?”

  “The perfect husband.”

  Eleanor made a choking sound. “You can’t just list what you want, then shop for it like Cook does when she goes to market.”

  “Why not?” Alex thought for a moment. “My husband must let me take care of the estate. Mark that down as number one.”

  “Alex, no man is going to allow you to run an estate. He’ll be worried about its income, or your time away from him.”

  “Hmm.” She fidgeted with her bracelet. Eleanor was right. “Fine, then item number two: he must have his own wealth. Number three: he can’t be in love with me.”

  “What if you fall in love with him?”

  “It won’t happen. There’s not a lord of my acquaintance I could fall in love with.” The image of Declan’s aristocratic features popped into her head, but she shoved it aside.

  “What about Lord Worthington?”

  “What about him?” Had her thoughts shown on her face?

  “He’s still your guardian,” Eleanor pointed out. “He could reject your choice.”

  “Nonsense. What could Lord Worthington possibly object to?” Alex adjusted the covers. “He wants to be done with this as quickly as I do.”

  Finding a husband would be simple. Staying out of Declan’s way until they went to London would be the difficult part. Once there, she’d be too busy to think about mocking blue eyes in a face that could make an angel swoon.

  Chapter 7

  Declan found the extent of Lord Lochsdale’s holdings hard to believe. Alex’s grandfather had carefully maintained ledgers on it all, just as he’d instructed a young Declan to do fifteen years ago.

  He stood, glad to stretch his legs after sitting the last couple of hours. He’d prefer good, honest physical labor to going over accounts any day.

  The door to the library opened and Alex entered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were in here.”

  She was a welcome distraction. They’d had a temporary truce the last few days. Alex hadn’t been well enough to ride, and even wore dresses on a semi-regular basis. He, on the other hand, tried not to interfere in her day-to-day activities.

  Alex glanced in his direction, but her gaze seemed to be held by the various items on the smooth surface in front of him.

  “Did you need something?” Declan straightened the stacks of papers he’d been working on and came around to lean on the edge of the library table, avoiding the carved wooden wings of the mythical creatures that cavorted around the sides.

  “I was looking for a quill and ink.” Alex began to back away from him, one hand hidden in the folds of her skirt. “I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

  She acted as jumpy as a horse at the start of a race. Any minute he expected her to bolt out of the room. “What did you need them for?”

  “It’s not that I needed them. I just felt like writing.”

  His Alex, writing because she felt like it? Next she’d be telling him she’d taken up sewing. He raised a
n eyebrow until she continued in an exasperated tone.

  “If you must know, I wanted to add to my list.”

  So that was what she’d been trying to hide. It must be of some importance for her to be so touchy. “List?”

  “I’m making a list of the qualities I want in a husband. That way I’ll just score each potential candidate. I’ll marry whomever has the greatest number of points.”

  He should have expected something like this from Alex. “Admirable. But have you forgotten I have a say in whom you marry?” He would agree to most anyone who was suitable, just to put her out of temptation’s way, but she didn’t need to know that.

  “No,” she retorted. “I intend to choose someone you can’t object to.”

  “So, what qualities do you find desirable in a male?” He’d never posed that question to any other woman, but he couldn’t contain his curiosity as to what Alex found attractive in a man. “Perhaps, you’d like an intellectual.” He pretended to ponder his choice, then gave a slight shrug. “Oh, but there wouldn’t be any sport in that. You’d run the poor man through before he’d even raised his weapon.”

  “I suppose no man could match you in prowess with a rapier.” Alex perused her list, making an elaborate production out of studying every item. “No, I don’t find arrogance on here anywhere. You’d never be a choice.”

  “I wouldn’t be a choice, because I choose not to marry until I must. When I do, it will be a business arrangement, nothing more.” He didn’t want to think about his inevitable marriage. Instead, he turned his attention to the rapier collection near the fireplace. “These weren’t here when I was a child. When did your grandfather start collecting?”

  He studied the rapiers with a critical eye. They were of the finest quality, about thirty in all, with various grips and blades. He didn’t know much about antiquated weapons, but some appeared to be from the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.

  “They’re mine.” Alex came to stand next to him. “I would select what I wanted, and Grandfather would purchase them for me. Most vendors have an aversion to selling to women.” She gave him a slight smirk. “Even if I could out-fence every one of them.”

  “Now who’s being arrogant?”

  “Not arrogant. Confident.” Alex smiled up at him. “There’s a difference.”

  “Is there?” Her teasing smile undid him. She was so close he could smell the vanilla fragrance she favored. “Might I find confidence on this list?”

  He’d meant to grab only the paper, but somehow ended up taking her hand. Her pale fingers were devoid of jewelry but perfectly formed. Everything about her fascinated him. He lifted his gaze to her luminous green eyes.

  She was exquisite. He’d known many beautiful women, but they’d never affected him like this. He desperately wanted to feel her pressed against him.

  “I think I should warn you about arrogant men,” Declan whispered. “They’re liable to take advantage of a situation.” He brought his other hand up to caress the silky hair at the back of her head, and slowly drew her mouth to his.

  Alex wasn’t sure when she dropped her list. She wasn’t even sure how she came to be in his arms. One moment Declan gazed at her with a strange kind of intensity, and the next, she was being kissed with a passion she hadn’t known existed.

  Declan’s hands roamed her back, trying to coax her closer. Her arms came up, encircling the muscled expanse of his shoulder. Everywhere she touched felt hard, but warm. The soft pressure of his lips continued down her neck, halting just long enough to nuzzle behind her ear.

  She didn’t want to do anything that might make him stop. This vortex of swirling feelings and emotions appealed to her in a way she never could have imagined.

  He reclaimed her mouth with an urgency that seemed to have a direct line to the spot below her belly. She pressed against him, wanting, what?

  The click of a door caused her to stiffen and break the kiss. She glanced up at Declan. A slight smile curled his lips as he glanced over her shoulder.

  “Glory be, and I thought you would be bored in the country.” A man’s lilting Irish voice sounded from the entrance. “You, Worthington, could find a winning colleen on a desert isle.”

  Alex jerked out of Declan’s embrace and turned around to see a grinning man filling the doorway. She tried to straighten the neckline that had slipped half off her shoulder and felt a flush heating her cheeks. Was it from the kiss, or embarrassment at being found in Declan’s arms? Her guardian moved forward to greet their guest. Damn him for appearing so unruffled by their surprise visitor.

  Declan inclined his head in Alex’s direction at the man’s questioning glance. “Lord Morgan, may I present the Countess of Lochsdale, Alexandra Kendrick, my ward.”

  The Irishman raised an eyebrow at Declan before coming forward and bowing over her hand. He had a grace she found surprising, considering his over six foot frame. “I’m charmed, Lady Lochsdale. If I’d known there was such beauty to be found in the country, I would have visited sooner.”

  Declan joined them and gave Morgan an exasperated look. “What the devil are you doing here? I thought you were looking after Catrina.”

  “Nice to see you, too.” The ruggedly handsome Lord Morgan slapped Declan on the back. “I got tired of waiting.”

  A low sultry voice came from the doorway. “So did I.”

  Alex looked in the direction of the voice. A woman, who bore a strong resemblance to the statue of Aphrodite in her mother’s garden, posed in the entrance. She was tall and willowy, making Alex feel like a child by comparison. Her features were classic, with the flawless skin and blond hair Eleanor told her were all the rage in London.

  Dressed in a pale pink gown, she seemed to float toward Declan. She put her arm through his and lifted her cheek for a kiss.

  Alex had a ridiculous impulse to cross the room and yank the vision off him.

  “Lord Worthington, it really wasn’t very kind of you to leave us in London without a word,” she breathed. “I, that is, we were worried about you.” She looked up at him, the image of a concerned lover.

  Alex wished she could be anywhere but here. She reached down to retrieve her list, which brought her to the attention of the clinging vine.

  “Who do we have here? Lord Worthington, this couldn’t possibly be your charge. I was under the impression she was still in the schoolroom.” She raised an eyebrow in Morgan’s direction.

  “How would I be knowing?” Morgan defended. “When Worthington said he’d be needing some time to clear up this business with his ward, I assumed she was a wee thing.”

  The vision looked Alex up and down. “Well, at least some of your assumptions were correct.”

  That did it. She refused to be talked about as if she were elsewhere, and if that was a set down about her height, well it was still her home. She could toss out whomever she pleased.

  Before she could open her mouth, Declan spoke, “Lady Catrina Edwards, may I present Lady Alexandra Kendrick, the Countess of Lochsdale.”

  Lady Catrina inclined her head toward Alex, then turned back to Declan. “You don’t really have to remain here, do you, Lord Worthington?”

  Declan glanced at Alex, before responding. “I had thought to stay for another week, but under the circumstances, I think we should leave in the next couple of days. You’ll stay here, of course. We can travel back to London together.”

  Alex wanted to wipe the gloating smile off Catrina’s face, but Declan’s next comment did that for her.

  “Lady Lochsdale will be accompanying us.” Declan gave Catrina an assessing look. “Now that you’re here, do you think you could help Lady Lochsdale with her wardrobe? It’s early in the Season, so she will need several gowns.” Declan must have noticed the slight pout of Catrina’s mouth, because he added, “You have such elegant taste in clothing. With your guidance, Lady Lochsdale should have no difficulty finding a suitor.”

  Catrina positively glowed at the mention of a suitor. She crossed to Alex and
studied her critically.

  The royal blue day gown had seemed like such a good idea this morning, but under Catrina’s scrutiny, Alex felt as if she were dressed in rags.

  “It will be difficult,” Catrina lamented. “But with some patches for her face, updated gowns and a wig, she should be presentable.”

  “No wig,” Declan stated.

  “But Lord Worthington, there are certain events which require—”

  “I said no wigs,” Declan commanded, “and leave her hair unpowdered.”

  Was anyone going to ask what she wanted? Catrina stood within striking range. It was a good thing Declan still had her knife.

  Catrina crossed back to Declan. “As you wish, my lord. I’ll do my best.” She reached up to pat hair that didn’t have a strand out of place. “Would you show me to my room, Lord Worthington? I must be a dreadful sight.” She took his arm and moved with him toward the library door.

  Declan smiled down at her. “You’re as beautiful as ever. I’d be pleased to escort you.” They exited, leaving Alex to entertain Morgan.

  “Does he always forget other people are in the room when Lady Catrina’s around?” Alex asked dryly.

  Morgan wore an odd expression as he shook his head. “It’s not his way to be leaving like that. What have you done to him?”

  “What have I done to him?” she fumed. “He’s not the one being discussed and insulted.”

  Morgan crossed to her. He took her hand and bent over to kiss it. When he straightened, mischief danced in his sherry brown eyes. “When you know him better, wee one, you’ll discover he was running away.”

  With that enigmatic statement, he dropped her hand and left the library.

  “Lady Lochsdale,” Luther said, “I trust you’re fully recovered from the unfortunate incident last week.” Luther glanced briefly in Declan’s direction at the head of the table. “She gave us quite a scare. Didn’t she, Lord Worthington?”