anything else that comes to mind over dinner. We dine later than country hours, yet not so late as London, I suppose.” She looked troubled, but said nothing more.
“I would that you show me to my room. Somehow I believe Mrs. Bassett expects it of you.”
Alexander watched Juliet square her shoulders as though preparing to do battle, then offer a decisive nod.
“Come, your room is clean and needs but fresh sheets and towels. No doubt Mrs. Bassett has seen to that even as we talked. It would not occur to her that you would sleep anywhere but in your own residence.”
Alexander walked at Juliet’s side up the curving stairs that led to the first floor and the bedrooms. As he anticipated, his room was adjacent to hers, and he smiled as she blushed when she saw him look at the connecting door.
“I do not believe there is a key for that door,” she muttered.
“You may trust me, Juliet.” He walked closer to her, touching her lightly on the chin so as to see her face more clearly. He could not resist those lips and touched them lightly with his own, smiling at her dazed expression.
“There was no reason to do that, my lord.”
“Ah, but there was. I cannot have you going about looking like an unkissed schoolgirl. No gentleman would accept that of me. And you had best call me Alexander; all my intimate friends do.”
“We may not be intimate, but I hope we might be friends,” Juliet said in that small voice he found oddly appealing.
“Friends it shall be. Is it a bargain, then?” he asked, holding out his hand to her.
Hesitantly, she placed her slim hand in his. “Indeed! A bargain it shall be.”
Chapter 4
He was mad, utterly, totally mad. Alexander rubbed a hand over his unshaven and shadowed chin as he stared out the window at the morning scene below. He absently took note of the splendor of the early summer garden, all the while wondering if his wits truly had gone begging. He—the man who had insisted that he would never be trapped into marriage, that no woman would trick him into that state—was well and truly caught. Never mind that she was a fetching little piece with those seductive amber eyes and that delectable dimple at the corner of a very kissable mouth. She was also a woman who thought ill of him, declaring she had no desire to marry him or any other man. He winced again at the memory of her contempt as she had used the word rake.
Blast! How would he ever extricate himself from this mess? He raked his fingers through his dark hair in frustration. Could they pull the deception off? He thought with hope that if no one came from town, and if no one read the papers, and if neither her family nor his got wind of this supposed marriage, they might each eventually go their separate ways. And pigs might fly.
On the other hand, Juliet was not Camilla Shelford! He imagined he could tolerate an alliance with the delicious and aggravating Juliet should it prove unavoidable. Their first test would come this evening at the dinner party given by some local gentry. Tackley, he thought Juliet had said. Perhaps it would be well to discuss how they would act? After all, if they were to play roles, they had parts to learn.
Randall entered the room, and Alexander turned to request his clothes for the day and then submit to the valet’s ministrations.
* * * *
Juliet sank down on the pretty window seat in her bedroom. She gave an apprehensive look at the closed door between her room and his. Her pretend husband—Alexander—he was a rake, a womanizer, a man who would attract women like flowers attracted bees. Recalling his seductive voice, even when angered, she wondered how a woman resisted such a man. She sighed deeply. For a woman who had determined never to marry a rake she had put her foot in it this time.
What on earth could she do now? She was not so naive as to think they could emerge from this bumblebroth unscathed. But to what extent would she be punished and how?
Still, he was not
“I would that you show me to my room. Somehow I believe Mrs. Bassett expects it of you.”
Alexander watched Juliet square her shoulders as though preparing to do battle, then offer a decisive nod.
“Come, your room is clean and needs but fresh sheets and towels. No doubt Mrs. Bassett has seen to that even as we talked. It would not occur to her that you would sleep anywhere but in your own residence.”
Alexander walked at Juliet’s side up the curving stairs that led to the first floor and the bedrooms. As he anticipated, his room was adjacent to hers, and he smiled as she blushed when she saw him look at the connecting door.
“I do not believe there is a key for that door,” she muttered.
“You may trust me, Juliet.” He walked closer to her, touching her lightly on the chin so as to see her face more clearly. He could not resist those lips and touched them lightly with his own, smiling at her dazed expression.
“There was no reason to do that, my lord.”
“Ah, but there was. I cannot have you going about looking like an unkissed schoolgirl. No gentleman would accept that of me. And you had best call me Alexander; all my intimate friends do.”
“We may not be intimate, but I hope we might be friends,” Juliet said in that small voice he found oddly appealing.
“Friends it shall be. Is it a bargain, then?” he asked, holding out his hand to her.
Hesitantly, she placed her slim hand in his. “Indeed! A bargain it shall be.”
Chapter 4
He was mad, utterly, totally mad. Alexander rubbed a hand over his unshaven and shadowed chin as he stared out the window at the morning scene below. He absently took note of the splendor of the early summer garden, all the while wondering if his wits truly had gone begging. He—the man who had insisted that he would never be trapped into marriage, that no woman would trick him into that state—was well and truly caught. Never mind that she was a fetching little piece with those seductive amber eyes and that delectable dimple at the corner of a very kissable mouth. She was also a woman who thought ill of him, declaring she had no desire to marry him or any other man. He winced again at the memory of her contempt as she had used the word rake.
Blast! How would he ever extricate himself from this mess? He raked his fingers through his dark hair in frustration. Could they pull the deception off? He thought with hope that if no one came from town, and if no one read the papers, and if neither her family nor his got wind of this supposed marriage, they might each eventually go their separate ways. And pigs might fly.
On the other hand, Juliet was not Camilla Shelford! He imagined he could tolerate an alliance with the delicious and aggravating Juliet should it prove unavoidable. Their first test would come this evening at the dinner party given by some local gentry. Tackley, he thought Juliet had said. Perhaps it would be well to discuss how they would act? After all, if they were to play roles, they had parts to learn.
Randall entered the room, and Alexander turned to request his clothes for the day and then submit to the valet’s ministrations.
* * * *
Juliet sank down on the pretty window seat in her bedroom. She gave an apprehensive look at the closed door between her room and his. Her pretend husband—Alexander—he was a rake, a womanizer, a man who would attract women like flowers attracted bees. Recalling his seductive voice, even when angered, she wondered how a woman resisted such a man. She sighed deeply. For a woman who had determined never to marry a rake she had put her foot in it this time.
What on earth could she do now? She was not so naive as to think they could emerge from this bumblebroth unscathed. But to what extent would she be punished and how?
Still, he was not
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