Brenda Joyce - The Promise

To her disappointment, he pulled away from her. His own cheeks were flushed and his blue eyes glittered. For one moment, he looked at her, his stare shockingly bold.

Elysse backed up as he turned away from her. She hugged herself. Her body was screaming at her. There was no more doubt as to what was happening to her. She desired Alexi, and it was a desire she’d never felt before.

He said roughly, “Could you fall in love with him? A man without a title, a master of the seas? A simple, courageous seaman who is brave and determined?” He cleared his throat, slowly facing her. “We both know Devlin will do anything you want him to do. If you wanted to marry the pilot, he would approve—if it was for love.”

What was Alexi talking about? “Are you talking about Mr. Montgomery?”

He nodded. “Who else would I be speaking of? Who else has come here to see you today?”

The room seemed to spin. She had never felt more off balance. “I like him, but I am not in love with him. I doubt I will ever fall in love with him.” Why were they discussing the pilot? Why didn’t Alexi take her in his arms? Didn’t he feel the blinding need, too?

His stare was hard and intense, unwavering. It was a long time before he spoke. “Then maybe you should tell him, very frankly, what you have just told me.” He turned to leave, adding, “Instead of leading him on so merrily.”

She hurried after him. “We are going for a carriage ride! I am not leading anyone on!”

“I think he is smitten, and you know it! He may even be calculating his chances of a legitimate courtship, Elysse. You are deliberately leading him on.”

“I am doing no such thing. Since you have come home, it is as if you think the worst of me!”

“You are always the lady in the room with a dozen admirers.”

“I am twenty years old and unwed! Should I turn away from possible suitors?”

“Have you ever turned anyone away?” he demanded.

She shrank. “You make me sound like a harlot!”

“You flirt like one.”

She was stricken. “That isn’t true.”

“Do what you want, Elysse,” he finally said grimly. “You always do.”

“And you do not?” she demanded furiously.

He strode through the library. She ran after him, then paused on the threshold. What was she doing? She had been watching well-bred ladies chasing him for years. She could hardly behave like that! She clung to the library door, aghast and bewildered.

He glanced back at her. “I’m glad you like the coat,” he said. “William is waiting in the other room.”

Elysse didn’t answer; she couldn’t.

ELYSSE CLUNG TO THE SAFETY STRAP of the black lacquer carriage she shared with her parents and brother as it passed through the heavy wrought-iron gates that guarded the de Warenne property. Those gates were open now, flanked by stone curtain walls that stretched away into the distance. As their coach entered the long shell drive, she could see the house, pale and gray, in the distance. Windhaven was silhouetted against the twilight skies and lights blazed from the windows.

Impossibly dashing in his tuxedo, Jack dug his elbow into her ribs and jeered.

She frowned at him.

“Someone has to bring you down,” he said, grinning.

She decided to ignore him. Their mother reproved Jack, murmuring for him to stop teasing his sister.

Elysse stared out of her carriage window, clinging to the strap. Several days had passed since that stunning encounter with Alexi in her father’s library. The fact that he had remembered his promise to bring her a Russian fur gave her so much pleasure, yet she hadn’t forgotten her disbelief and hurt that he had practically called her a harlot. She was certain he hadn’t meant it—he couldn’t have meant it. Mostly, though, she couldn’t stop recalling the explosion of desire she had experienced when he had so casually touched her. And she kept remembering the smoldering look in his eyes, before he’d turned away from her. But maybe she had imagined her desire and his response to it. She wasn’t sure what to expect when they came face-to-face again that night.

He hadn’t been back to Askeaton since he’d brought her the fur, and she knew why he hadn’t called. She’d heard plenty of gossip about his comings and goings. Apparently he was squiring Louisa Cochrane about the countryside on a nearly constant basis.

She shouldn’t care who he was carrying on with, but every time she thought of him with the other woman, pain knifed through her heart.

She had tried to remind herself that their dalliance was nothing unusual, not really, for Alexi was always having an affair. He remained her steadfast friend. But for the first time in her life, she didn’t feel reassured. Confusion and doubt reigned. She had even debated going to Windhaven on the pretext of calling on Ariella. Somehow she had restrained herself. He would see through such a sham instantly, and mock her desire to see him.

It almost felt as if he were deliberately avoiding her. But why would he do that?

The carriage had slowed, entering the end of the queue of coaches and carriages in front of the house. Cliff had built Windhaven the same year he had brought his son home from Jamaica, in honor of his bride, Amanda. The three-story house was Georgian in design, with four corner towers and a high, sloping slate roof. The gardens surrounding it were magnificent, filled mostly with roses—everyone in the county knew how fond Amanda was of English roses. His stables were of pale beige stone, as were the servants’ living quarters. It was a palatial home, and testimony to the success of his worldwide shipping empire.

Two dozen conveyances were lined up ahead of them, Elysse saw. She recognized the gilded coach belonging to the Earl of Adare. Tyrell de Warenne was Cliff’s oldest brother and Alexi’s uncle. He could have gone to the head of the queue, of course, but he had chosen to await his turn, like anyone else. Clearly, no one had declined Amanda’s invitation, but then, there was nothing like an Irish country ball, and these days, with corn so dear, the workhouses full and the National Debt a dinnertime topic of conversation, they were few and far between.

Jack patted her knee. “Don’t worry. I’m sure Montgomery will ask you for a waltz or two.”

She glared at him. Montgomery was not the man keeping her wide awake at nights, although he had turned out to be a very gallant suitor. Elysse had enjoyed his stories of the sea. By now, she knew almost every detail of what had transpired from the moment Alexi had first met the pilot on the St. Lawrence in Lower Canada. Of course, Montgomery had not told her about the day he had saved Alexi’s life. She knew that Montgomery agreed that she was too delicate to withstand those details, just as she also knew he thought her enthralled with his stories. She was enthralled, but not for the reason he believed. Through Montgomery’s tales, she had pieced together so many details of the past two years of Alexi’s life.

Their drive in the country had been a very pleasant one. He was handsome, charming and intelligent, and he often made her laugh. He was very attentive, and she wondered if Alexi was right in insisting that Montgomery was thoroughly taken with her. She did feel a bit guilty that she did not return those feelings.

In fact, their last outing had been somewhat awkward. They had decided to wait out an intense rain shower in a farmer’s stable, but when he had helped her out of the carriage she had somehow wound up in his arms. She was experienced enough to realize he had maneuvered her into the position. As they waited for the rain to stop, Elysse had caught him looking at her with open male interest, and she’d been certain that Montgomery wanted to kiss her. That had made her anxious and uncomfortable, as she had no wish to be kissed by him or any of her suitors. Kisses were, of course, highly improper and she’d never received more than a peck on the check or a lingering kiss on the hand. She had wondered briefly if she was leading him on, as Alexi had accused her of doing. But every debutante she knew enjoyed the company of numerous suitors, including those they did not take seriously.