Page 28 of The Banished Bride
Besides, he reluctantly reminded himself, he had promised not to attempt another embrace without her consent and despite his execrable conduct so far, he was determined to retain some shred of gentlemanly honor.
So instead, he decided he must be content with simply taking up a ringlet of her curls and gently rolling the silky strands between his thumb and forefinger. “I believe I shall have to order up a pair of special lenses if that is truly the image you see.” There was a slight pause. “Blond would be insipid and auburn too garish. Your hair has a subtle complexity that is infinitely more intriguing. It is quite unique—like the rest of you.”
Aurora blinked, too startled to react with anything more than a stare of disbelief. It took a few long moments before she finally regained some mastery over her emotions. “Back to your usual bald flirtations, I see.” She leaned back slowly, disengaging her hair from his grasp. “You are a strange man, Alex Woodmore. One moment you are like one of your military sabers, all honed steel and sharp edges, hacking a swath through whatever stands in your way. Then the next you are …” Her voice faltered.
“Are what?” he demanded softly, wishing that he might slice off his own tongue for having brought such a look of hurt to her eyes.
“You are …”
The sound of hurried steps approaching the cottage caused her voice to cut off again. “Oh, it doesn’t matter,” she whispered as Jack threw open the door and made for the table, his eyes alight with unconcealed excitement.
“The deuce take it,Aurora, you were right!” he announced. “She was cunningly disguised, but I recognized the profile. It’s Dearborn’s ladybird. And she’s with a man who fits the description of your nocturnal visitor, Alex.” He consulted apocket watch he had drawn from his coat pocket as he spoke. “No vessel will be able to venture close to shore until the tide turns, and that won’t be until after ten o’clock tonight.” Looking up, he finally paused long enough in his eager explanations to sense the tension in the small room. “Er, is there something amiss?—”
“Not at all,” answered Alex through gritted teeth. “We were merely discussing my own unsatisfactory efforts of the day.” Restraining the urge to vent his frustration at the untimely interruption by taking hold of Jack and tossing him back out the door, Alex forced his mind to attend to what the other man was saying rather than to dwell on the words that might have come from Aurora’s lips.
He satisfied himself with kicking one of the crates a little harder than necessary in order to position it closer to the table. “It seems you have had a good deal more success than I in discovering something of importance. Now, we had better get to work in refining our plan of attack.”
He dared only an occasional sideways glance at Aurora as he and Jack began to discuss the details of their strategy. It took all of his considerable control to maintain a facade of rigid concentration, but in truth, half his mind was engaged in wondering what emotions were hidden beneath the lowered lashes rather than what perils lay ahead in coming hours.
Damnation, he railed ay himself, hurling one curse after another upon his mutinous thoughts. He was a seasoned soldier, not some moonfaced halfling! How could he let his attention wander from his duty?
Clenching his jaw so hard that his molars threatened to crack, he shifted in his seat so as to avoid all view of her shadowed face. That helped somewhat and he finally managed to marshal his senses into some semblance of order.
An hour passed, maybe more. The two men spread out several sheets of paper and eventually covered them with a number of scribbled diagrams as they debated the best way to construct a trap for the spy and her accomplice. Aurora made a terse response to the occasional question tossed her way, but other than that, she made no effort to join in the effort. Withdrawing deeper into the slanting shadows, she set about coaxing the coals in the hearth to life, then put some water on to boil. The rest of the vegetables and mutton were added to the remnants of last night’s meal, along with the last of the herbs, and the pot was hung above the flickering flames.
“I imagine you could use a bit of sustenance before you leave,” she murmured, setting a bowl of the steaming stew in front of each man. Clearing her throat she added, “Perhaps I might of some use if I came along and?—”
“No!” Alex’s voice came out harsher than he intended. “You would only be a … distraction,” he added haltingly. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realized how they only compounded the coldness of his initial exclamation.
Lord, perhaps she was right, he thought with an inward grimace. Perhaps he was the most bumbling agent in all of Christendom, for at the moment he was certainly doing nothing to gainsay such a low opinion of his adroitness in dealing with any matter of a sensitive nature.
Aurora had turned a shade paler at his response, but made no argument. Jack merely arched his brows in vague reproach.
Drawing in a deep breath, he sought to salvage something of the situation. “You have been put in quite enough danger already,” he growled. “I cannot in good conscience allow you to take any additional risk. You will remain here.”
Her eyes refused to meet his. “Whatever you say. After all, you are the one in command, Major.”
Why was it that her refusal to fight back left such a bitter taste in his mouth? He had become so accustomed to her feisty spirit and to the martial spark that flared in her eyes when she was ready to do battle, that this quiet surrender left him feeling more like a bullying lout than an officer deserving of respect.
Jack cleared his throat and sought to blunt the edge of sharp order. “Alex is right, Aurora. Your contribution has already proved invaluable, and to put you at physical risk would be unconscionable.”
Alex gave an inward wince at the choice of words.
“Besides, I assure you that despite your initial impression, Alex and I are not quite so bumbling as you might have thought,” he continued with a forced grin. “I promise we will manage not to make a mull of things on our own.”
She didn’t look up from tending the dying fire. “Of course.”
Leaving his meal untouched, Alex rose abruptly and retreated to the corner of the room where his bag lay. He put away the book that he had kept carefully hidden away in his coat, then withdrew several other items. A slender sheathed knife went into his boot while the extra pistol was tucked in one of his pockets after the priming and flint had been checked.
A strained silence had descended over the room, save for the crackle of the burning kindling and the scrape of Jack’s spoon against his bowl. Grimly aware of how badly he had handled things since his return to the cottage, Alex began to pace before the meager fire, wondering with each step how he had come to lose his bearings in such a precipitous fashion.
Come to think of it, he realized with a start, he hadn’t been able to hold a steady course since that fateful day when he had learned he was no longer Major Lord Fenimore but the new Earl of Woodbridge.
Such disquieting thoughts were interrupted by Jack, who finally spoke up after making a show of consulting his timepiece. “I had best be off, as we planned.”
Alex gave a curt nod. “I will follow shortly. You know where we are to meet up.”
“Aye.”
