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Dorothy glanced at Cara and then back at Emma. “How is she?”
“Quite well. She’s such a dear, always calls to wish me a happy Christmas.” Emma sighed. “I wish he’d married her. She would have been so good for him.”
Dorothy darted another anxious look in Cara’s direction, compelling Cara to put Dorothy at ease. “I know all about her,” Cara said. “Alec told me.”
“Oh, good. Then none of this should be upsetting for you.” Dorothy looked at Emma. “Lady Elizabeth is the daughter of the Earl of Burkeham. She’s a lovely girl, and will one day make someone a wonderful wife.”
“She had exquisite manners,” Emma said. “And such style. We all thought she would have made an ideal mistress for Langley, and I think Mrs. Booth would have been relieved to have a new viscountess, someone to help make the decisions Alec simply won’t make.”
Cara hadn’t realized that the lovely Lady Elizabeth had stayed in touch with Alec’s family. She wondered if Alec even knew.
“Why do you think they didn’t work out?” Cara asked, curious to hear the aunts’ opinions.
“Alec was still grieving Madeleine, but Elizabeth didn’t rush him. She was so good with him and patient. It was Alec who couldn’t commit. I’ll be honest. I don’t think he’ll ever marry again.”
“We don’t know that,” Dorothy said, with another worried glance at Cara. “Maybe he just needed more time—”
“Madeleine has been gone eight years. That’s a very long time to grieve, which is why I’m afraid he won’t every remarry. But if he doesn’t have children, it’s all gone. All of this”—Emma gestured broadly—“will go to people we’ve only met once or twice. He should have married Elizabeth. The families have been friends for years. It would have made everyone happy.”
Except Alec, Cara thought, but didn’t dare say it aloud.
“Has she ever married?” Dorothy asked. “Lady Elizabeth?”
“She’s recently engaged, but if Alec would renew his attention, Elizabeth would end the new engagement for him. She loved Alec very much. She was devastated when he ended it, and he did it so abruptly, in such a callous manner.”
“I think breakups are just painful, regardless of how it happens,” Dorothy said quietly. “Emma, you’ve heard me say this before, but I think the real issue is that Alec doesn’t want to be hurt again. Losing Madeleine must have stirred up all that pain from losing his mother. If he really loved Lady Elizabeth, he’d be risking that kind of pain and grief all over again.” Her voice dropped even lower. “When they called to say my Michael was gone, I just fell to the floor. And Alec’s lost his heart twice—first his young mother, and then his young wife. No wonder he’s not open to falling in love. It’s dangerous.”
Cara said nothing as Dorothy handed her onions to chop for the dressing, but she appreciated busy work as Cara had plenty to think about. She was comparing what the aunts said aboutElizabeth to the things Alec had told her. He hadn’t made it sound as if he couldn’t love, but rather, he didn’t love Elizabeth. Well, he didn’t say that, either. He simply said Elizabeth wasn’t right, that she wasn’t the one.
Why did that mean he’d never marry?
And yes, losing Madeleine must have stirred up pain, but that was years ago. If he’d dated again, he had to be over her, didn’t he?
Cara was so lost in thought that she wasn’t paying close enough attention and the knife came down a little too close, nicking her finger. She felt the pain even as blood spurted out, and with a muffled oath, Cara grabbed the nearest dish towel and pressed it against her finger, not wanting to get blood in the onions.
“What happened?” Emma demanded, bustling over. “You did not cut yourself, I hope.”
“I did,” Cara said, but just a little bit. “Don’t worry.”
“I’ll finish the onions,” Emma said. She stepped out into the hall, called for Alec. He couldn’t have been that far away as he appeared promptly.
“She’s cut herself,” Emma said. “Can you get her a plaster? Patch her back up? We’ve a lot to do otherwise—”
“I’m good with plasters. I’ve got this. You carry on with Christmas,” he said, steering Cara out of the kitchen and down the corridor to a bathroom off the mudroom.
“What is a plaster?” Cara whispered, once they were away from the aunts.
“It’s what you’d call a bandage.” He closed the lid of the toilet and had her sit down. “How badly did you cut it?”
“Just a nick,” she said, even as she saw the blood seep through the white towel.
He took her hand, carefully removing the dish towel. It wasn’t a particularly deep cut, but it was a proper slice across thetip of her finger, and the minute the pressure of the towel was off it began bleeding again. Alec rinsed the blood away, found some antiseptic spray and bandages in the medicine cabinet, and in no time had her finger cleaned and wrapped up. “How is that?” he asked.
“Good.” She smiled at him, loving the attention, loving being alone with him. She wanted to lean forward and kiss him, but she felt self-conscious as he’d initiated all the kisses so far.
“What happened? Were you not paying attention?” he asked, still crouching in front of her, his hands resting on her thighs, his blue eyes locking with hers.
Her heart was beating faster. She felt a little hot, and a little dizzy. “I was distracted. The aunts said something and I was thinking about that, not the proximity of my fingers, the knife, and the onions.”
