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Good God. “No. She is simply a friend.”
“Alexander—”
Bending down, he lightly kissed her cheek. “Come, let’s not argue.”
“How can we not argue when you refuse to do your duty and flaunt your bachelorhood as if it is something to be pleased about?”
He lowered his head, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Alexander had not returned home to suffer these same old arguments. “Mother, I miss you, and I miss my family. That is why I am here. Not to hear your arguments on why I should marry.”
“It is not natural to eschew—”
“Perhaps one day I shall meet a creature who will inspire me to marry.”
He ignored his brother’s sound of skepticism.
“I will be long gone in the grave by then,” his mother said.
“Nonsense. You are too curmudgeonly to die young. And when I say young I mean a day below eighty.”
Though his mother glared at him, a smile hovered about her mouth and then she huffed.
“I shall welcome our unexpected guests,” he murmured, bowing to his mother before walking away.
What will it be like to see you again?
CHAPTEREIGHT
Lucinda watched transfixed as the lord of the beautiful manor emerged from around the corner, recalling the man’s bed she had crawled into that special night. He was immaculately dressed in dark blue trousers with a matching jacket, and a light brown waistcoat. Perfectly suitable for the lord of the manor in his country house. His hair was disheveled and badly in need of a trim, for it gave him the air of a very roguish rake, one that was terribly sensual. He was beautiful, in a way that was uniquely male.
“Gracious,” she said, pressing a hand over her chest, as if that would still her suddenly thumping heart. “I did not expect you, my lord! Is…is this your home?”
He made a wry sound. “One of them.”
Oh! What must he think that I am here?
“I thought Carson informed you I would be in the drawing room shortly,” he said with polite indifference.
“I was never good at following orders,” she said with a slight smile, which dimmed when he did not respond in kind. “I was not aware this was your home, Lord Chisholm. Our carriage wheel broke, and we had to walk almost two hours to get here and…”
Lucinda stopped speaking and stared at him. The earl regarded her with an air of polite disinterest. She could not read what he was thinking at all. He seemed like a stranger, as if they had not spent a night burning each other alive with want and madness. It had been over a week since she had seen him, and every night she recalled the fierce and tender way he had loved her for the long night. Clearly, for him, it had been a mere spark, and they had reverted back to being people who barely knew and spoke to each other.
“I do hope my needing to take a walk is not construed as rudeness, my lord. Perhaps I should return to the drawing room.”
“Of course not, welcome to my home.”
“Thank you, I am very much obliged to you for your kind hospitality.”
He turned and waved toward the cobbled path. “Please continue your walk and allow me to introduce you to my family.”
Lucinda followed the earl, aware of a peculiar squeezing in the region of her heart. They walked towards the palatial lawns, where a lady who appeared to be in early fifties reclined on a lawn longue like a queen. She pinned Lucinda with a rather dissecting stare as they approached.
“Mother,” the earl said, “Allow me to present a friend of mine, Viscountess Darby. Lady Darby, this is my mother, the Countess of Chisholm.”
She dipped into an elegant curtsy and smiled. “I am very pleased to meet you, Lady Chisholm.”
She canted her head regally and smiled, and Lucinda couldn’t help but decide that the countess was a beauty with her still vibrant blonde hair, silver eyes matching the earl and a winsome figure.
“Brother,” a young girl called out, running over to them. She skidded to a stop and pinned Lucinda with a wide-eyed stare. “Hullo.”
