Page 63 of A Stolen Heart

She drew a shaky breath. Well, there was nothing she could do now except go on. She would thank Thorpe for his help and try to ignore what had happened.

Alexandra finished brushing her hair and pinned it up with hairpins brought by the efficient maid. It was not the best arrangement, she thought, but it would have to do. She looked in the mirror, her eyes going to the dress she wore. She smoothed down the rose pink skirt. It was slightly out of fashion, but the color was good on her, complementing her complexion. It was a woman’s color, not the insipid white that made up almost the entire wardrobe of the young, unmarried British girls. In all likelihood it had belonged to someone in her twenties or older, probably a married woman—and someone shorter and smaller than Alexandra, given the length of the skirt and the tightness of the fit across the bust. Who could have left a dress in Thorpe’s house?

She grimaced at her reflection, reminding herself that he could have sisters or other female relatives—and besides, it was really none of her business to whom the dress belonged or why it was there. She turned from the mirror.

Another knock sounded on the door, and she called to the visitor to enter, assuming it was the maid again, but the door opened this time to reveal Thorpe. Alexandra could feel a blush rising up her throat into her face, and she looked away quickly, feeling unbearably awkward.

“Good morning. I took the liberty of bringing you tea and toast,” Thorpe said stiffly, setting down the small tray he carried.

“Thank you. That is very kind of you.” Alexandra twisted her hands together, still not looking at him. “I am very aware, my lord, of how much I owe you my thanks for coming to my aid. I realize you have no obligation to me. It was generous of you to find me and bring me out of there.”

“There is no need to speak of obligation. I could hardly let you be kidnapped without making some effort to intervene.”

Alexandra felt every cool, formal word falling like a rock into the heaviness that pervaded her chest. “Still, I must offer you my gratitude and—and my sincerest apologies for my behavior last night. It was inexcusable.”

“No.” Thorpe spoke sharply and quickly, raising his hand as though to stop her. “There is no need to apologize. You were not yourself. I am the one who should apologize for not handling it better.”

Alexandra felt a spurt of anger at his talk of handling her, as if she were a difficult horse or a recalcitrant child. However, she was aware of how much she owed him for rescuing her. With the drugs they had given her, she knew she would have been able to do little to avoid the fate that Madam Magdalena had in mind for her.

Thorpe went on, “It was unpardonable of me to—” He paused and cleared his throat and went on. “To, uh, take the liberties I took. I regret it sincerely, and I promise you that it will never happen again.”

Tears stung Alexandra’s eyes at his words. Thorpe was obviously horrified at what they had done. No doubt he was glad he had managed to escape her clutches eventually. She swallowed her tears and forced herself to speak calmly.

“Please, there is no need. Let us not speak of it anymore. Tell me, how is my mother? We spoke of it last night, I think, but…”

“She is alive and does not seem to be in any pain,” he said, his voice filled with relief. “But she is unconscious and has been since she was attacked the other night. I took the liberty of sending my doctor to see her, but he was able to give us little information. She is in a coma, and he has no idea when she will wake up.”

“If ever,” Alexandra added softly.

“You must not think that way. I have known of others who have recovered from a coma. One of my cousins was thrown from a horse and did not awake for two weeks, but after that he was all right—at least, as all right as he had ever been,” he added, with a wry smile.

“Thank you. I hope you are right. I am sure that my aunt has been taking excellent care of her.”

“She seems a very capable woman,” he agreed dryly.

“I cannot fathom why anyone would try to harm my mother,” she went on, frowning. “I would have said that it was merely a theft gone awry, but the idea of another attack upon someone in my family is too much of a coincidence for me to swallow.”

“No, he meant to harm your mother.”

Alexandra turned to him sharply. “How do you know?”

“I spoke with the man who kidnapped you. That is how I tracked you down. His name was Peggoddy, and my man Murdock managed to locate him.”

“How did you persuade him to talk to you?”

“He had little choice.”

Alexandra was somewhat taken aback by the steel in his voice. “Are you saying you threatened him?”

Thorpe cocked an eyebrow. “He wasn’t the sort with whom to use gentle persuasion.”

“I see. And what did he say—besides where I was, I mean.”

“That he had been hired to take care of your mother.”

Alexandra stared at him. “Hired! But who—”

Thorpe shrugged. “I don’t know. At that point I was more interested in finding you than in digging any more information out of him.”