Chapter 29
Weeks of socials, balls, soirees, fittings, presented a whirlwind of activity and had drained Alexandra of energy. On top of that came the new responsibilities of her ancestral estate. She and Nicholas had visited often, putting Andrew Baines and Samuel in charge. Lady Sutherland and Willean were set to go on trial and had been placed in Marshalsea Prison, far away from causing any more harm.
Thankfully, Nicholas had seen Alexandra’s momentum waning and insisted on moving everyone to Belvoir Castle where she would have more privacy and rest.
Awestruck, Alexandra was speechless at her first glimpse of Belvoir, the Rutland ancestral home. Stately English oak trees lined the road with a glimpse of a stone edifice far up above. Truly having no idea of Nicholas’s wealth or the size of his estate, she could only stare. Manicured lawns, formal gardens, mazes, and a lake dotted with snowy white swans. Further across the green valley, were vineyards, fields of young grain and verdant pastures that looked like crushed velvet. Sheep grazed on a distant high slope, enhancing the pastoral landscape. Taking in the spectacular scenery, Alexandra clapped her hands to her face.
How she itched to explore Belvoir’s grounds, so unlike the coastal village where she had grown up in, and a far different topography of the Caribbean island she and Nicholas had lived on. The coach lumbered up the mile-long, convoluted lane, her breath caught when the grandiose stone edifice materialized on the horizon.
“My goodness, Nicholas, it’s a castle. Are those turrets?” She gaped, entranced by the castle’s enormity.
“Indeed,” he murmured.
She shot him a glance. His gaze was fastened on the horizon, and a smile curved his lips. Unreserved pride shone in his eyes as he observed his ancestral home.
He loves Belvoir.
Alexandra smiled again and focused her attention to the carriage window once more. At least a hundred beveled windows caught the afternoon sun, dazzlingly refracting the golden rays. The castle glowed as if it were alive, a living breathing entity. She inhaled, overcome with the splendor of the magnificent castle and grounds.
How was she to be mistress of such a majestic estate? Nothing in her life had prepared her to run such a vast household. Did Nicholas have any notion how ill-prepared she was for such an overwhelming task?
Before the carriage rolled to a stop, two liveried servants descended the manor’s granite steps. She clasped her skirts, pressing her fingers into her new brocade gown. At least this time she was properly attired before meeting the servants. Alighting, Nicholas then handed Alexandra down. She was aware of the covert, curious stares sent her way by the footmen and line of servants. Smiling, she shook everyone’s hand, and then Nicholas whisked her away into the castle. She passed a double stairway that climbed infinitely upward, and hosted rows of ancestral paintings.
She was out of breath. “Nicholas, where are you leading me?”
He pulled her down a deep corridor where a burst of light glowed at the end. A conservatory with large glazed windows on the sides and, sloping glass at the top, rounded up to an artful cupola. The minute they entered, heat and humidity swelled. Surrounded by tropical plants and rich vibrant tropical flowers, she extended her arms and twirled with warm memories. “Oh, it is just like the island. How I miss our sojourn there and wish we could turn back the time.”
She skipped under a bower, following along a path, delighting in brightly colored crotons, scorching bromeliads, and brilliant orchids. She turned and Nicholas was gone. Where was he?
She found him leaning against a smooth glass door, the light illuminating his fawn-colored breeches, white shirt, and dark hair. Like the light that surged on the crest of an incoming wave, he took her breath away.
“Looking for me?” He tossed an orange to her. “I think you will find it the right sweetness.”
She inhaled the strong citrus scent. “This is where you learned to identify tropical plants,” she accused laughingly. How she missed the island…long sultry nights…what he did to her...felt her muscles tighten as desire warmed her to the core.
He took her hand. “Come.”
“Where are we going now?”
“We have unfinished business.”
An indulgent smile was his only answer.
She stopped, pulling her hand away. “How can you think of something like that at a time like this?”
“I’m to be a duke soon. My father wants to turn over the responsibility during the next year. I must show you to your chambers.” He cuffed her chin with one finger.
“Why, we need to…” She couldn’t think of what they needed to do. Those damned eyebrows were tilted her way. Like the faint exquisite music of a dream, he murmured into her ear and her pulse flickered and leapt.
Nicholas dismissed her lady’s maid and Alexandra turned to him.
“What will the servants think?”
“Considering that my entire adult life, I’ve never paid much heed to the way things are “supposed to be,” I can’t imagine why now I would be doing so. I pay them to be discreet and after two days of celibacy, I want to be alone with you.”
He watched her walk around, looking at the pink peacock silk wallpaper, fingering the silver brushes on the vanity and admiring the rose brocade bedcoverings of the mahogany four poster bed. In the glow of the afternoon light, he saw the provocative goddess she had been that first day on the beach. He heard again, the sweet dulcet tones of her voice on the other side of the planks in the hold of the Santanas. He saw the woman who dug in the dirt to provide them with sustenance. He saw the woman who mocked him out of his doldrums. His heart hammered in his chest.
He stared at her intently. “If I were a painter, I’d start with making a line of dark sienna against the light behind you.”
And still he stared at her. Her hair gleamed like beams of sunlight, cascading down her back and around her shoulders. Something sprang free in his chest. Its newness was at first, painful, but the feeling resolutely exploded forth with a life and vigor of its own. Something marvelous, implausible, and all-consuming. This woman was to be his wife and carried his child. She was made to be worshipped.
“Ten of my bedrooms in Deconshire could fit in this room. I don’t know how I’m going to get accustomed to all of this space...” she turned to him, “…unless I have you to share it with.”
He pointed to her dressing room and a long dark corridor. “The connecting door to my chambers.”
She licked her lips. “Oh, I suppose that is practical.”
He closed the space between them, bent his head, kissing her long and lingeringly.
She raised her head and put a finger to her lips and smiled. She undid his cravat, unbuttoned his shirt and eased him out of it. She ran her hands over his chest and his muscles flexed. She pointed to the chair for him to sit, and then pulled off his boots. This new venue where she undressed him left a hard hum of lust flowing through his veins. She ran a finger over him, outlining his rigid manhood.
“Um, I approve,” she said and left him there, heat curling inside him.
He leapt up, crossing the distance in two easy strides, spun her around, undid her buttons and untied her corset. Two could play the same game.
Her gown pooled at her feet. He swung her up into his arms and carried her to the big four-poster. He shrugged out of his breeches and lay beside her, her soft breasts teasing his chest.
Alexandra sighed. “The minute I heard your voice on the Santanas, I felt safe. You had come like a Guardian angel to protect me.”
Nicholas ran a forefinger over her lovely cheek. “You’re safe from everything here at Belvoir—except me.”
Her soft lips parted with only the slightest urging from his probing tongue. Her arms automatically went around his neck as she drew his tongue into her mouth, then gave him hers. He teased her, tormented her, offered himself to her by thrusting deep with his tongue, then leisurely withdrawing and thrusting again and again, until Alexandra clung to him, her mouth moving back and forth over his in passionate surrender.
He stroked her hair and slid his hand down over her throat to her breasts, circling the dusky crests with his thumb until they stood up proudly. He caressed the line of her back and over her rounded hips. In response, she weaved her soft arms about his neck, splaying her fingers behind his shoulders and back.
He had not imagined that any woman could create such desire in him, could arouse such passions, such a deep tempest. Her scent and heat surrounded him like a sensual miasma. He rolled atop her into the white slant of afternoon sun.
When he entered her, her eyes closed and he saw the soft sweep of her lashes and heard the soft pleading moans as she cried out for him in a sweet pinnacle of release.
How much more entranced could he be? Nicholas exhaled and glanced at the sky framed through the windows. The late afternoon sun prismed through the beveled windows, casting dazzling reds, oranges, yellows, blues and greens.
All her fears should now be eradicated with the imprisonment of Lady Sutherland and Willean. She had told him he was her Guardian angel and embraced him with a delight that filled him with a tenderness so deep he ached inside.
Then why the bothersome doubt that ran frigid along his spine?
He leaned into her, brushing the top of her nose with his lips. “I won’t rest until I know you’re safe, and you’ll never be safe until we figure out who is against the Rutland’s.”
She tucked her hair behind her ear. “With you, Nicholas, I always feel secure.”
He grabbed her hand and placed it on his heart. “I have to return to London for two days on business. If you walk around Belvoir, it will be with guards. And you will not leave the grounds at all.
“Anthony said that Cuthbert Noot, the man who tried to kill him and Rachel, claimed that there was a very wealthy and powerful man who would stop at nothing. Cuthbert was shot before he could reveal anything.”
“Do you think the man Cuthbert talked about was responsible for the carriage trying to run us over at the opera?” asked Rachel.
“Probably because Lady Sutherland denied any arrangement of that event.”