“Good luck,” the four of them told him in unison before bowing and making their exit. Wellington merely inclined his head in response before returning his full attention to the map that lay stretched out before him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
It was difficult for Alexandra to believe that all their efforts—the lies they’d lived for the past four weeks and all the risks they’d taken—had culminated with no more than a ten-minute audience with the Duke of Wellington. It not only baffled her but it also left her with a deflated feeling of disappointment. Somehow she’d expected more. She wasn’t sure what exactly—just that it was very surreal to now be riding toward England without any purpose.
They rode until they reached Gent, hoping to put some distance between themselves and any eventual battle that might take place in the morning. By the time they’d found some lodgings and been assigned to their rooms, they were all bone tired. It was after two, and they’d been on the road since early morning. Still, Michael’s injury needed tending to, and Alexandra was beginning to lose her patience. She quickly called for some hot water, some towels, and a pitcher of wine.
“My lord,” she told Michael firmly while she pointed to a chair.
He sat down with a loud groan that clearly indicated his resignation—he didn’t look as if he was the slightest bit pleased about the way in which he was being treated. Alexandra really didn’t care. She was going to tend to his wound whether he liked it or not.
“Good,” she said once he’d taken his seat. “Now take off your shirt.”
Judging from their pinched expressions, William and Ryan were doing their best to hide the ridiculous grins that played upon their faces, albeit with a tremendous amount of difficulty. Removing themselves to the other end of the room, they must have decided that it was best to stay out of their sister’s way, for which she was thankful. She certainly wasn’t in the mood to be trifled with right now.
With a glowering look of displeasure, Michael followed her orders, revealing a wide gash upon his shoulder. Closing her eyes, Alexandra took a deep breath before letting out a sigh of relief. It was only a graze, just as he’d said it was. The bullet had merely clipped him. Still, it had to be cleaned and the sooner she did that, the sooner they could all be off to bed.
Wetting a fresh linen towel, Alexandra dabbed at the blood, gently wiping it away as she cleaned it to the best of her abilities. When she was done, she asked that William and Ryan come and inspect her work. They both gave their approval before nodding in the direction of the pitcher. The worst was yet to come. Discarding the blood stained towel, Alexandra picked a clean one and poured a generous measure of wine over it. Without wasting time to think of how much it was sure to hurt, she pressed it against Michael’s wound. He barely even flinched.
“I apologize,” she said. “But I have to do this.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” he grinned. “I imagine this might be your pay back for when I tended to your feet in Paris.”
She hesitated for a moment, her hand resting upon his shoulder. This was the closest she’d been to him since departing the city. Her fingers trembled as the heat from his body flowed through them. The effect that he had on her had not lessened. If anything, it had risen to a new level of maddening frustration. How she longed to wrap her arms about his chest and hug him against her. But fear persisted, bellowing for her to beware.
“Just grit your teeth,” she heard herself say in a distant voice as she let her hand fall away from him. “It will be over before you know it.”
Once the wound was firmly bound and Alexandra was confident that it would remain so while Michael slept, they thanked the sleepy innkeeper and began to make their way upstairs. Alexandra was certain that she would sleep until ten, unless someone happened to wake her—she was so exhausted.
On the landing, Michael caught her arm, stopping her gently in her tracks. “A word if I may?” They quietly waited as both of her brothers said their good nights, each of them departing to their respective rooms.
“What is it, Michael?” she asked warily.
He saw the glimmer of hope that shone in her eyes, but there was still that trace of dread that lined them. He knew what he had to do, but it wasn’t going to be easy. However, if they were to stand a chance of happiness together, then she was not only going to have to face her greatest fear yet, but she was going to have to overcome it. For that to happen, he would have to back away, give her space and allow her the chance to fight her demons alone.
“Thank you for everything you did for me this evening, Alex. I just wanted to tell you I’m so very, very proud of you. You’re the strongest woman I know, and I’ve no doubt you can do anything you set your mind to. I know we’ve had our differences, but you have made me see that you truly are a remarkable woman. You’re one of a kind, and I . . . well, I want you to know I hold you in the highest regard.” He hoped that she would consider the meaning behind his words in the weeks to come as memories of the last few weeks filled her mind. Then hopefully, in time, she would come back to him.
Caught between two needs, that of pulling her into his arms and kissing her with all the longing that he felt and that of letting her go, Michael reluctantly released his hold on her arm. “Good night,” he whispered as he leaned toward her and placed a tender kiss upon her forehead.
She looked as if she might say something, but Michael didn’t wait to hear it. Instead, he hurried to his room, closing the door firmly behind him before he lost his resolve.
Alexandra stood for a long moment afterward, staring at the solid oak door through which Michael had so quickly vanished. She wanted so desperately to go to him, but what was the use? She would only be prolonging the inevitable. She could not allow herself to love him and because of that, she would not marry him, so then really . . . what was the point? It would be better this way. Eventually, he would forget about her, move on, and find someone else.
Alexandra forced away the unwelcome wave of emotions that shook her at the thought of Michael in someone else’s arms. But then, they’d known each other for only four weeks, the man would hardly be in love with her. And even if he were, she was determined to push him away.
Eager for the escape sleep offered, she snuck inside her room to undress before climbing into bed.
A couple of larks perched on a tree branch just outside Alexandra’s window woke her with their twittering just after ten on the following morning. Stretching her arms out behind her head, she considered calling for a bath. She’d been too tired the previous evening and too unwilling to set the whole inn on its end at such a late hour that she’d gone to bed filthy. But now it was a new, bright, beautiful day. Her mission was over, and it was time to get cleaned up.
Moving to the bell pull, she rang for a maid. A slip of a girl appeared at her door five minutes later. Alexandra made her request and within twenty minutes a tub filled with steaming hot water was brought into her room.
With a sigh of contentment, Alexandra eased herself into the water, reveling in its warmth. She found the soap and eagerly covered herself in a thick lather, washing away any remnants of blood and dirt that might still be upon her. That done, she washed her hair, dunking her whole head underwater until she resurfaced with a splash of delight.
When she went downstairs for breakfast fifteen minutes later, she felt like a new woman. She wore a clean white shirt, a pair of light grey breeches, and her newly polished boots—her damp hair held loosely together at the nape of her neck with a red velvet ribbon.
Stepping outside onto a small sunny terrace, Alexandra noticed her brothers sitting at a round, iron wrought table. Ryan spotted her immediately and waved for her to come over and join them. “Tea or coffee?” he asked as she took a seat.
“Coffee,” she replied, just as a maid brought her a plate. Taking a roll of bread from the bread basket, she allowed Ryan to fill her cup.
“I’ll let you add the milk and sugar yourself, shall I?”
“Yes, thank you, Ryan.”
He leaned back in his chair to look at her. “You’re looking a whole lot better today than you were last night. Don’t you agree, William?”
“Hm?” William brought his attention away from the newspaper he was reading, waving away a boisterous fly as he did so. “Yes, absolutely.”
“Well, so do you,” Alexandra grinned as she spread a thick layer of jam across her bread. She licked her fingers as she glanced about. “Any sign of Michael yet?”
She’d aimed for a casual tone, but her brothers apparently knew her well enough to realize that there was nothing casual about it. They glanced at each other for a brief moment before Ryan excused himself and headed back inside. William folded his paper and turned a steady gaze toward his sister. “Ashford left early this morning,” he told her simply.
Alexandra froze in mid bite and stared across the table at her brother. She didn’t care; she reminded herself. This was after all what she’d wanted—to push him as far away from her as possible.
Then why did it feel as if her world was suddenly crumbling all around her? “I see” was all she could manage to say, even though she didn’t really see at all. It hurt that he’d gone without saying good-bye, and there was something else—a sudden feeling of emptiness that she’d never known before. She felt hollow.
“It’s probably for the best, you know,” William told her. “You clearly don’t care enough for him or you wouldn’t have broken off the engagement. What reason would he possibly have to stay?” The words sounded harsh, and Alexandra couldn’t help but serve him a disgruntled frown in return. She knew that he thought she was being an obstinate little twit, and he probably reckoned she’d do well with some blunt truths.
“I don’t know. I just thought—”
“What did you think, Alex? That you could string him along indefinitely to pamper your own ego? Surely you hold him in higher regard than that.”
“Of course, I do, William. You know that I . . .”
William raised an expectant eyebrow and watched while she struggled with her own emotions. She wanted to tell him how she felt, but how could she when she barely knew it herself?
“Never mind . . . it’s nothing,” she finally said, cringing at her cowardice.
“Good.” William’s voice was suddenly clipped with annoyance. “Then by all means let us be off. We can’t sit about here all day eating pastries, no matter how tempting it may be.”
“Yes, of course,” Alexandra agreed, finishing the last of her coffee and rising to her feet. There was a sudden smile on her face as she pushed in her chair and walked around the table to William’s side. “Papa will be terribly pleased to see us.”
“Indeed, he will, Alex,” he replied, throwing his arm over her shoulder and steering her toward the doorway. “Indeed, he will.”
Caught up in her own thoughts, Alexandra was too distracted to notice the woman who was just then stepping out onto the terrace. A second later, she turned right into her, almost knocking her off her feet.