LITMIR.BIZ

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by an Indian’s knife thrust into her back. I laid their ghosts to rest before I came to England. Perhaps you will be able to do the same now you know your mother is dead.’

      Alex picked up a decanter from his desk to replenish his glass. Finding it devoid of liquor, he uttered a soft curse and strode towards the door to his bedroom. Holding it open with his arm, he indicated that she follow. ‘Come, you already know your way around my apartment,’ he grinned. ‘Will you join me in a glass of wine?’

      Seeing her hesitate, he said, ‘You can’t leave. You came to comfort me in my hour of need. Remember? I’m still in need.’ He smiled lazily when she jerked her head in alarm. ‘Why—you’re not afraid to enter my bedroom, are you, Angelina?’ he murmured with a sardonic tilt to his dark brows, his eyes compelling, flashing with that particularly silver light that was a herald to trouble.

      Angelina was amazed at his ability to push his worries into the background so effortlessly. ‘Yes—no, of course not.’

      ‘You were brave enough to enter it on a previous occasion as I recall. Remember?’

      His voice held a quiet challenge, and when she saw he would not take no for an answer, she relented. ‘Well—perhaps just for a minute. I told Aunt Patience I was going to my room to fetch my fan. I also told her I would not be long,’ she said, throwing him a meaningful glance.

      ‘I’m sure Aunt Patience will not mind if you don’t return immediately. Before I left, I observed her settling down in the music room to listen to Miss Asquith perform on the pianoforte. She may not even notice your absence,’ he said, standing aside to let her sweep past. ‘Welcome to my parlour.’

      ‘Said the spider to the fly,’ Angelina couldn’t help retorting drily.

      Alex grinned. ‘In no way do you resemble a fly, Angelina. You are far too nimble and sensible to become entrapped in any kind of web—especially one of my weaving.’

       Chapter Nine

      ‘Allow me to congratulate you.’ A lazy, devastating smile passed over Alex’s features, his eyes doing a slow sweep of her body so that Angelina could almost feel him disrobing her. ‘It appears the engaging young girl I first knew has become a gorgeous young woman of exotic beauty. In the space of twenty-four hours you have endeared yourself to every one of my guests—especially the gentlemen. No doubt when you return to London you will slay the lot of them.’

      ‘Alex, please don’t exaggerate.’ Angelina moved closer to the fire to hide her confusion, aware of the magnetic charm he was exuding, and beginning to wish she had left when she had said what she had come to say.

      ‘I don’t. You will bowl them over and down they will fall like skittles. No doubt they will all turn poets overnight to express their love for this bright new star in their heaven.’

      ‘Really?’ She smiled, her eyes slanted and quietly teasing, feeling a treacherous warmth seep through her. ‘And will you pen one yourself, my lord?’

      He grinned. ‘Haven’t you broken enough hearts among my guests without wanting mine? So, tell me. What is your opinion of Miss Howard?’

      Angelina was completely taken aback by the question and her head snapped up. ‘We are not acquainted—but—she seems—quite nice,’ she answered hesitantly.

      ‘Liar,’ Alex said, amused at the way she tried to equivocate. ‘You cannot stand her.’

      Angelina’s cheeks flamed. ‘Then if you know my opinion, why did you ask me?’ she retorted crossly. Not for a moment did it enter her head to deny it. She moved to step past him in the direction of the door, but his hand shot out, capturing her elbow.

      ‘You’re not leaving.’

      ‘I think I must.’

      ‘No, you’re not. You are going to stay here and have a glass of wine with me.’ Striding to a small carved table, he poured two glasses of red wine and handed one to her. She took it reluctantly.

      ‘You are neglecting your guests, Alex. Don’t you think it’s time you returned to them?’

      ‘No—not when I find myself in such enchanting company.’

      ‘Why did you invite all these people if all you want to do is escape?’ The answer dawned in her eyes when a slow smile curved his firm lips. ‘Oh—I’m sorry. I forgot. It was to assess Miss Howard as a possible wife without appearing too obvious. Am I right?’

      ‘Absolutely.’ He chuckled. ‘But it isn’t difficult. Lavinia is the kind of woman any man would enjoy having as his wife. She is accomplished in many things and will preside over Arlington Hall and Mowbray Park with grace and poise. She will not be daunted by the many duties she will find thrust upon her, and she is also sophisticated and clever.’

      ‘And cold and dispassionate and difficult to please,’ Angelina concluded drily. ‘I wish you joy in her. Good luck, Alex. You will certainly need it. But if I did not know any different, I would think it is a woman who has just applied for the position as your housekeeper you speak of—not the woman you intend making your wife. All of a sudden I am beginning to feel pity for Miss Howard. You seem to have considered marriage to her with the same dispassionate reasoning that marks everything you do in life.’

      Alex disregarded the sardonic edge to her voice and cocked a sleek black brow at her, his eyes shining with suppressed humour. ‘Jealous?’

      Angelina looked at him, her eyes steady and her expression serious. ‘No, Alex. I am not jealous. I have no reason to be. Besides, jealousy is an emotion I have never experienced in my life.’

      Alex was immediately contrite and wished he’d never asked the stupid question. ‘I know, Angel,’ he said softly, reaching out and lightly touching her cheek. ‘I’m sorry. So, you are of the same opinion as Uncle Henry and Aunt Patience. You don’t think I should marry Miss Howard either.’

      ‘It’s just that I have no wish to see you made unhappy,’ she answered quietly, reaching up and placing her glass of untouched wine on the mantelpiece.

      Alex was moved by the sincerity of her words and a constricting knot of tenderness formed in his throat. ‘And if I marry Lavinia, you think I will be?’

      ‘Undoubtedly.’

      For a moment Alex considered her in thoughtful silence. ‘I’m touched. I didn’t realise you cared.’

      ‘I do care, Alex—otherwise I wouldn’t be here. Miss Howard is cold and hard, and when she’s fifty she’ll look just like her mother.’

      Unable to contain his mirth, Alex was laughing now with real amusement, his teeth flashing white from between his parted lips.

      ‘Good Lord, I do believe you’re right,’ he said, composing his features once more. ‘And is there a danger that I’ll become like Lord Howard?’

      ‘No—you’re not in the least like Lord Howard. He never opens his mouth unless Lady Howard gives him permission to do so.’

      ‘Nevertheless, Lavinia does have some good points.’

      ‘I know. I feel like a pincushion already,’ Angelina told him, her lips curving with humour. She looked at him a little quizzically. ‘Do you realise that whenever you mention marriage to Miss Howard, you become tight lipped and your expression goes all serious—in fact, you become positively grim?’

      Alex’s mouth grew hard and he looked annoyed by her question, but he answered it. ‘No. As a matter of fact I don’t.’

      ‘Well, you do. And there,’ she accused, ‘you’re doing it again. Have you given her reason to believe you care for her? Have you kissed her?’ Her head cocked slightly on one side as she looked at him, knowing she shouldn’t ask so personal a question, but unable to stem her female curiosity.

      His

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