Kendra’s heart sank at the implication. “You’re not staying at Aldridge Castle, my lady?”
The older woman’s lips knotted into a sour smile. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
With all my heart. But Kendra said nothing.
Lady Atwood narrowed her eyes. “Someone must manage the household and ensure that Bertie doesn’t forget his place in society. Besides, London is not without its amusements. The Season began several weeks ago. Our family has obligations, Miss Donovan.”
The Countess retraced her footsteps to the door. She paused there, and Kendra’s stomach tightened when she looked back at her and smiled slowly. “You can no longer claim you don’t know how to dance, Miss Donovan. As the Duke of Aldridge’s ward, you have responsibilities as well. I shall be on hand to make certain you fulfill them.”
Kendra kept her lips pressed together until Lady Atwood left. Then she sagged against the bedpost. “Oh, my God. Did you see that smile? It was evil.”
Rebecca laughed.
“I think she’s looking forward to torturing me,” Kendra said. “It almost sounded like a threat.”
“Oh, my dear,” Rebecca said, and grinned. “There is no almost about it. It was most definitely a threat.”
5
Fifteen minutes later, Kendra was tugging on her kid gloves as she left her bedchamber. The heavy, blue-velvet carriage dress that Molly had insisted she wear for the journey made a swishing sound against the floor as she moved down the hallway. That was joined a moment later by the light but firm tread of a man’s boot. Kendra wasn’t surprised when Alec emerged from a shadowy alcove and fell into step beside her.
“It’s about bloody time,” he muttered, his straight dark brows pulling together in a scowl. “I’ve been waiting to have a word with you.”
Kendra shot him a sideways look. In this era, ‘bloody’ was considered a profanity, never to be spoken in the presence of a lady. Even though Alec often relaxed his own code of etiquette when they were alone, especially given her own propensity toward colorful language, she suspected that it was irritation behind his lapse this time. She didn’t resist when he grasped her elbow and steered her to a stop against the wall.
He fixed his eyes on her. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to send Mr. Kelly a polite refusal?”
He was six feet tall, tall enough that she had to tilt her head up to gaze at him. Sunshine streamed in from a nearby window, delineating the hard planes of Alec’s face: the square jaw, sculpted cheekbones, and straight, narrow nose. Kendra had a ridiculous urge to brush back the silky dark lock that fell over his brow. They’d been together for more than four months, and she’d thought the crazy physical attraction would have faded a little by now. But it was just as strong as ever. As she met his green eyes, her stomach gave a delicious flutter.
She huffed out a sigh. “Why does everyone think I’m in the position to refuse? Mr. Kelly sent the note to His Grace. Why don’t you talk to your uncle?”
“Don’t play coy, Kendra. We both know Mr. Kelly’s true purpose in sending the letter. Just as we both know you want to go.”
He knew her too well. “Alec . . .” She was close enough to see the gold flecks around the pupils. “This is what I do.”
By the way his lips pressed together, Kendra could see that her answer didn’t please him. She nearly sighed again, but managed to stifle the sound.
It was odd, but despite the centuries that separated them, they’d actually had similar childhoods. After his mother, Alexandria, an Italian countess, had died when Alec was still an infant, his father, Edward, had remarried. When he’d died, Alec’s stepmother, a cold, controlling woman, had shipped him off to boarding school as soon as she was able. The Duke had invited his nephew to spend the holidays at Aldridge Castle, but still, Kendra knew that Alec’s childhood had been as lonely as hers.
And like her, he’d been born with a destiny in mind. His was to fill his father’s shoes as the Marquis of Sutcliffe and run the estate he’d inherited in Northamptonshire. The weight of responsibility on Alec’s shoulders had increased when the Duke lost his wife and daughter twenty years before. The Duke’s refusal to remarry meant Alec was in line for the dukedom, a duty that included the stewardship of Aldridge Castle and surrounding lands, and the livelihoods of all the people who lived there. It also meant ensuring that the estate and his lineage survived into the future by marrying and producing children—male children. Wives, mothers, and daughters had no right to inherit their family’s entailed estates. If they were lucky, they’d receive a stipend that would allow them some sort of independence. If they were unlucky, they’d be forced to find work as a companion to the more affluent ladies in their family tree.
Kendra drew in an unsteady breath and lifted her gloved hands to press against Alec’s chest. The reticule that had been dangling from her wrist slid down, weighted with the pistol inside. She kept her gaze on his. “Alec, this is who I am.”
And that was the root of their problem, wasn’t it? In spite of the strange parallels in their upbringing, Alec was very much a man of the early 19th century. He wanted to marry her, to protect and provide for her. He didn’t understand her determination to be self-reliant, her desire to keep her independence. She’d had a purpose in the 21st century. Maybe it wasn’t the one that her parents had envisioned, but she’d felt useful. She still wanted that feeling here.
“I know.” He put his hands over hers. He leaned down and rested his forehead against hers. “I know this is important to you, but I dislike the thought of you becoming involved in another murder. Of placing yourself in danger.”
“There might not be any danger.”
He straightened, then raised a skeptical brow. “Do you take me for a flat?”
“I don’t even know what that means.”
“A gullible fool.”
“Oh. No. But I can ask the same of you. I’m not a child, Alec.” She lifted her reticule and pressed it against him so he could feel the weight of the gun. “I know how to take care of myself. You should know that better than anyone.”
He was silent for a long moment, then he released a sigh. She heard frustration and capitulation in the sound.
“Promise me you will be careful,” he said. “Promise me that whatever happens, you shall not take any unnecessary risks.”
Kendra smiled. “Of course.”
She started to step away, but he grabbed her elbow, his gaze locked on hers. “Promise me.”
Kendra nearly gave a flippant response, was opening her mouth to do just that. But something in his face stopped her. This time she was the one who capitulated. Is this love? she wondered. This give and take?
She leaned into him, her hands settling on his shoulders as she kissed him softly. “I promise,” she whispered.
She meant it. But no one was more aware than she that life could change in a second. Before and after. And promises, no matter how sincere, could be too easily broken.
London might not have grown to the size it would become in the 21st century, its urban sprawl gobbling up towns that in this day stood on their own, surrounded by vast swathes of countryside, but the city was still massive. Kendra had forgotten the noise, the people, the pollution, the poverty.