Page 26 of Until I’m Safe in Your Arms

“By Jove, well done, nephew.” He slapped Alex on the shoulder, making him wince. “You’ve won another wager, I’ll be bound. This is marvelous news. Our sons will be almost of an age, so I’m certain they’ll be the best of friends.”

“Wait a moment, uncle, before congratulating me.” He managed to stop the flow of the older man’s enthusiasm. “What I meant was yes, Emma is in good health, but no, she’s not ‘in the pudding club,’ as they say. At least not yet, or not that I know.” That brought up an even more pressing reason for his conversation. He must soldier on with this. “I wanted to ask you how you know when you love a woman.”

“How do you know…what?” His uncle looked appalled. “Why would you ask me that?”

“Because you and Aunt Lucinda seem to be in love, uncle. From all that I can tell when I’ve seen you together. You dote on her and she on you. You both seem supremely happy whenever you’re together.” He was making a muddle of this and that wouldn’t do. “Isn’t that love?”

His uncle stepped back and stared at him thoughtfully. “Yes, yes, it is. At least as far as I’m concerned, it is. I just never thought about it like that before.”

“So when did you know, uncle? When did you know you loved her?” After Emma’s confession the other night, Alex had noticed a change in his manner toward his wife. He’d been gentler with her, kinder. More attentive. Each time he thought of her ordeal in India, his protective instincts made him want to go to her, hold her in his arms, and reassure her that no one would ever hurt her like that again. Was this love or just the normal instincts a gentleman had whenever he was able to provide protection for a lady, no matter who she was? “When?”

“I think from the first moment I saw Lucinda, I loved her. At least a little.”

That made sense to Alex. He’d had that instant attraction to Emma, standing there on the stairs, the most beautiful lady he’d ever seen. So perfect and lovely he couldn’t take his eyes off her. “I know what you mean, uncle. I couldn’t stop staring at Emma when I first saw her at your party.”

“Is this about Emma?” His uncle frowned. “Don’t you know if you love her or not?”

Caught out, all Alex could do was hang his head. “No, I don’t. I’ve never been in love before.”

There was a ruckus in the ring. Alex looked up to see both combatants on the floor, the one on top pounding the other one for all he was worth. “Tell me what the signs are, Uncle Jack. I feel so strange when I’m around her.”

“You’re going to feel something else strange in a minute, Alexander, and I can promise you it won’t be love. Let’s move over to the ropes. It won’t be long—”

“Lord Caxton? This way, my lord.” One of Langham’s instructors motioned to them, and Alex followed his uncle into the ring. Alex had begun to dread this match even more than usual. His uncle seemed to be displeased with him, and when Uncle Jack was unhappy with a person, that person knew it in no uncertain terms.

“Five rounds in the bout today, gentlemen.” The instructor raised his hand.

Quickly, Alex assumed the usual position, his raised fists forming a guard for his face.

“Begin.”

Whap.

Alex’s head snapped back as Uncle Jack’s fist found its way directly to his jaw. He managed to parry the next few blows, then struck out with his own, which was neatly blocked. Alex shook it off, then commenced dancing around, just out of his uncle’s reach. “So tell me what I’m supposed to feel, uncle. If I’m in love with Emma?”

“Hard to say, old chap.” Uncle Jack moved in like a flash, aiming for Alex’s jaw again.

This time, he managed to avoid the blow and landed a lucky one to his uncle’s chin. The older man staggered back.

“Try to say, uncle.” There was no one else he could consult on this. His cousins hadn’t been in love, he’d never ask his grandfather this sort of question. And Harry was still off on his blasted honeymoon. Uncle Jack was the closest thing he’d had to a father in years. Alex would have the answer if he had to beat it out of him. “I need to know if I’m in love with her or not.”

“I never had to ask anyone, nephew. I just knew.” Uncle Jack bobbed and weaved around the ring, Alex following, looking for his next advantage. “Whenever Lucinda entered a room, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. If she left a room, it was like the sun had set even though it was mid-day.”

Alex tried a feint to the left, then countered with his right, but his opponent was too wily. Another sharp pain to his left eye and Alex could barely see out of it. “So you always wanted to be around her, never wanted to leave her alone?”

“I still do. But we don’t wish to live on one another’s pockets, so we make that sacrifice occasionally, like this morning, to be with others that we love as well.” Uncle Jack began a series of punishing blows to Alex’s face, which Alex could scarcely fend off. Where did the man get his stamina? “But I’m on fire every moment we’re apart. I cannot wait until I’m with her again. Like there’s an emptiness inside me that can only be filled by her presence.”

Out of nowhere, Uncle Jack sank his fist into Alex’s stomach, knocking the wind out of his lungs and sending him thumping onto his back on the floor. As he lay there trying to coax his lungs to accept air once more, his uncle came to stand over him, peering down at him with a grin on his face.

“That sensation you’re feeling right now, Alex, that emptiness in your stomach when the wind’s been knocked out of you and you never saw it coming? That’s what falling in love is like. At least it was for me. Lucinda can bring me to my knees with one hurt glance. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her. If that’s what you’re feeling when you look at Emma, well then,” he reached down, grasped Alex’s hand, and helped him to his feet, “welcome to the club, nephew. You’re in excellent company now.”

*

“Does Uncle Jack always give you this severe a drubbing when you play at fisticuffs?”

Alex winced as Emma dabbed at the cut over his eye with a cloth soaked in witch hazel. The astringent stung, but not as much as his wife’s words had ever since he’d arrived home and presented his bruised face. “He usually bests me, I’ll admit that. He’s had years more practice than I have. But today he seemed…a little annoyed at me.” That was putting it mildly. “I think he took that annoyance out on my face.”

“Well, I think that is awful. He shouldn’t have been so mean-spirited.” His wife sat back on the chaise. As soon as she’d seen his bruised and swelling face, she’d brought him directly to their bedchamber and called for warm water and several remedies. “What on earth did you ask him to make him treat you so?”