Page 4 of Until I’m Safe in Your Arms

“Very quickly, Tom.” Alex laughed, although he had no clue how he was going to accomplish this feat. “Very quickly.”

Chapter One

August, 1860

Hampshire, England

The heat of the day was coming on strong when the family landau swept up to the main walkway of Caxton Park, Alex’s uncle’s favorite country estate. The sprawling Tudor manor house was Alex’s favorite as well. He never entered it without experiencing a sense of awe at the grandeur of the towering sandstone-walled edifice. Today was no different on that account. However, as Alex disembarked from the carriage, a shiver of anticipation shot down his spine. His greatest hope was that this house party would prove auspicious regarding his current endeavor: to find a wife.

He strolled down the gray stone walkway toward the main entrance of the house, the gravity of the wager he’d made with his grandfather and cousins weighing heavily on his mind. Boasting that he could court a young lady and convince her to marry him by the end of the month—now a mere week away—might not have been the best idea, but he’d wanted to make a bold move. Get the larger wager underway with a bit of a splash. He’d known on Wednesday he’d be coming to this house party, rather a card up his sleeve, so to speak. Now that he was here, however, the confidence that he could woo and wed so quickly began to wane.

Nonsense. Alex straightened his back, raised his chin, and continued to stride toward the front door, his scarlet uniform almost glowing in the bright sun. No reason at all why a young lady wouldn’t want to marry him. Even though he’d been in the army for ten years and had lived rough and ready for much of it, he was a gentleman after all. He had sufficient income and family connections enough to recommend him. When the situation called for it, he could be quite charming—and this situation certainly called for it now. He’d been called handsome enough times to believe he wasn’t repugnant to the fairer sex. Whenever he set his mind to something, it inevitably came to pass. So, if he desired a wife, then he’d bloody well get one this week.

He arrived at the front door and rapped on it smartly.

Drake, his uncle’s longtime butler, opened the door, his face lighting with what passed for a smile from the staid servant.

“Captain Bancroft.” The man bowed. “Lord Caxton has been awaiting your arrival. Will you join him in the library?”

“Certainly, Drake.” Alex passed the man his hat and sword as he entered the house, glad to surrender them. “The footman has my trunk.”

“Very good, sir. I will instruct him to put it in the Regent’s Bedroom.”

Alex’s brows rose slightly. The Regent’s Bedroom was usually reserved for the most important guests. Hitherto, he had always been housed in the small but serviceable Blue Room.

Drake motioned the footman through the entry hall toward the back of the house, then followed him.

Turning toward the library, Alex was about to leave the entry hall when his eye caught movement above him on the main staircase that wound gracefully up to the first floor of the manor. His gaze was drawn upward until it fell on a hooped skirt covered in white gauzy material with little pink flowers scattered capriciously all over it. The bell-like garment swayed charmingly as its wearer stopped, waiting her turn to descend the stairs. Alex’s gaze rose further to the face of the young lady as she looked over the railing to admire a family portrait on the opposite wall. She had an arresting face, oval and fashionably pale, framed by rich chestnut hair styled in long ringlets that bounced when she shook her head. This charming action took place often as she talked to her companion. Her full pink lips drew a sigh from Alex, who wondered what it might be like to kiss that perfect bow of a mouth. Past caring about the conventions, he frankly stared at her, entranced. She spoke and laughed with a smaller brunette lady, who was quite well and good, but who couldn’t hold a candle to her enchanting companion, who seemed to have stepped out of a fashion plate.

“You’d best close your mouth before you start catching flies, Alex.” His cousin Yule’s voice brought him out of his musings about the mysterious young lady.

About to retort in the negative, Alex stopped when he had to close his open mouth to form the words. Had he been gawking that badly? Turning quickly toward Yule, he smiled broadly. “That’s not all I wager I’ll catch this weekend, cousin. What brings you to Hampshire?”

“The same as you, I’d say.” Yule scanned the crowds of guests standing about chatting. “To catch the eye of some delectable young lady.” Taller than Alex by an inch, Yule craned his neck back as he perused the ladies standing on the stairs, waiting to follow the throng descending to the ground floor. “Although I daresay you have a bit of an advantage over me by wearing your regimentals. Ladies do love a man in uniform.”

“You are not wrong in that, cousin.” Alex chuckled, his gaze still resting on the young lady in pink. There was something about her, perhaps her perfect English maiden look, but perhaps something more than that compelled his continued gaze. “At least I hope you aren’t.”

At that moment, the lady in pink glanced over the balustrade down at the milling throng in the foyer as if searching for something or someone. Just as quickly, she looked away, but her head snapped back toward the lower hall, her gaze riveted on Alex. Her eyes widened—with recognition? It couldn’t be. He’d certainly remember this lady had they been introduced. Had she mistaken him for someone else?

“Yule…Yule.” His cousin had begun a conversation with another acquaintance, but Alex had to discover this lady’s name. “Yule!”

“What is it, Alexander, that makes you so vilely rude?” The annoyance in his cousin’s voice was almost palpable.

“That lady on the landing there.” Alex couldn’t point—even his excitement wouldn’t allow him to be that impolite—but he nodded in the general direction.

“There are at least six young ladies on the landing.” Yule’s stiffened stance and thinned lips showed his displeasure with Alex.

“The one in the pink-flowered dress. Do you know who she is?”

Yule glanced upward, then shook his head. “Never seen her before.” He took a second look and a smile spread over his face. “Although I can see why you’d be interested in an introduction. Quite fetching, isn’t she?”

“Indeed.” Alex continued to stare, almost afraid to take his eyes off her. The young lady in question had turned back to her companion, but every so often shot a look at him, as if to assure herself he was still there. “But how am I to meet her?”

“I assume since your uncle invited her here, he or his wife must know her.” Yule’s impatience seemed to be growing. “I suggest you find him and beg an introduction.”

“Absolute genius, old chap.” Alex slapped Yule on the back, then hurried past him into the library. Why hadn’t he thought of Uncle Jack? Too addlepated by the young lady’s presence, obviously. He hurried into the library, then scanned the room.

He easily spotted his uncle, Lord Caxton, standing next to his wife Lucinda, an American lady he’d met and married during his trip to New York last year. She was a very sweet woman, willowy with a delicate air, yet vivacious—and close to twenty years his uncle’s junior. Despite the vast age difference, the pair seemed to have genuine affection for one another, and Alex had sincerely wished them happy on their return to England last autumn.