Page 10 of Tempting the Scoundrel
Alexandra’s cheeks burned. She had spoken to no one of her latest work. Of the interviews, pouring over shipping contents, collecting and annotating departures and arrivals of cargo. Of the sleepless nights she spent writing of illegal opal smuggling and the people trafficked to Australia to work endless hours in the mines.
She had not told anyone that she was working to expose a Member of Parliament for his crimes.
“You are,” Miss Dawes said, reading Alexandra’s expression. She made a noise. “I’m almost afraid to ask: how will the public receive it?”
Alexandra bit her lip. “It will cause an uproar.”
Miss Dawes murmured a word very softly. A swear? No, it couldn’t have been. The solicitor was too in control of her emotions. “Take my advice as you wish: hold the manuscript and ask your husband if he’s willing to accept a divorce. Either way, I suggest you make plans to retreat to the country. The public will not be kind.”
Alexandra didn’t tell Miss Dawes that she had already made plans. That there was a ship in her future that would take her far away from England.
And far away from the man who had caused her so much hurt.
* * *
The Earl of Kent’sresidence in St. James’s seemed to loom as Alexandra trudged up the steps. The problem wasn’t the house itself, but how large and empty it had become in the absence of her brother and his wife. James and Emma had always been there to greet her, and these last few months had grown lonely indeed.
Jeffries, the butler, bowed as he let her in. “My lady—”
“I’ve only arrived for a change of clothing, Jeffries,” Alexandra said, passing him her gloves. “Please send one of the maids up to my bedchamber.”
Alexandra was going to have to talk to her damned husband, and she was not about to visit his club wearing a dress splattered in city mud. No, no. She needed to arrive in something intimidating. Something that said,I’ve come to menace you.
“My lady—”
“And tell Amelia that she’s not to touch the papers on my desk. I have them right where I want them.”
“But, my lady—”
“Spit it out, Jeffries. I’m mere hours from threatening a man, and I’m eager to finish it.”
Would red silk be too much? Too dramatic?
The butler straightened. “A gentleman inquired after you at the service door a short time ago.”
Perhaps a soft, pastel pink. One that gave the impression,I am here for your destruction before my afternoon tea.
“Did this gentleman come with a name?” she asked distractedly.
Or blue? Blue always suited her coloring. She could wear it to terrorize a man.
Jeffries hesitated. “He said he was your husband.”
Alexandra froze. All thoughts of dresses disappeared from her mind. “I see. Did he happen to leave a message?”
“No, but—”
“So he appeared and vanished, rather like a noxious odor. That does sound like Nicholas. Thank you for telling me, Jeffries. That will be all.” The emerald green, then. It gave the impression of wanting to burn his life to the ground. Alexandra started for the stairs, but the butler cleared his throat. “Unless there was something else?”
Her butler shifted on his feet. “The gentleman in question is . . . still outside, my lady. Across the road. He’s requested your presence in the park.”
All at once, Alexandra’s anger returned. Fine. She could make threats of divorce in a mud-splattered dress. It saved her a trip to that monstrosity he called a business. “Very well.”
Alexandra snatched the newspaper from the table beside the door and strode out of the house. As she crossed into the park, the tall man who had been leaning against a nearby tree straightened.
Damnher traitorous heart, it still stuttered at the sight of Nick. If anything, he had only grown more handsome in the four years since their disastrous marriage. No, not handsome. That was a common word; something far too simple. It didn’t describe his striking combination of elegance and ferocity.
Alas,beautifulsuited him perfectly. His black hair gleamed in the rare London sunlight; it seemed Nick had no use for anything as mundane as a hat. Such an object might make him seem tame.
