Forever My Love (Berkeley-Faulkner #2)(4)

“My lord, please.” She pulled away from him in a startled movement.

Alec let her go reluctantly, beginning to smile as she flushed and averted her gaze from his.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his eyes gleaming with warm amusement. “It seems we’ve both made a misstep. I’m usually much better mannered.”

“And I’m usually very surefooted,” she said.

“I believe that.”

“Thank you for… catching me. I must be going downstairs now—”

“Wait,” he said, making an impulsive move as if to take her arm, and then his hand fell by his side. “What is your name? Are you one of Sackville’s guests?”

Mira wanted to shrink away from him in sudden discomfiture. So he didn’t have any idea of who she was. She knew what was coming next, and yet her pride would not let her run from him.

“My name is Mira,” she said stiffly. “Yes, I’m one of Lord Sackville’s guests, more or less a permanent one. I live here, in the turret.”

Alec could not believe his ears at first. She was Sackville’s mistress? His silver gaze turned to ice as it traveled from her head to her toes, noting her smoothly confined hair and the beautiful garment she wore, the

well-outlined shape of her body and the pristine paleness of her skin.

“I was just talking to him about you,” he said, his voice noticeably cooler. “Somehow I had imagined you to be much older.”

“It seems you were mistaken.”

“It seems I was very mistaken,” he agreed softly.

“I must be going,” she said, turning away, until his voice stopped her.

“I’ve heard that you tend to hide away up here.”

“Yes,” she replied without looking at him.

“Why?”

“Because I like to be alone.”

She could feel his eyes lingering on the wide boat-shaped neckline of her gown and the smooth swell of her br**sts. His gaze had previously held the warmth of admiration; now it contained a searing insolence.

“I can’t help wondering about something,” he murmured. “What were you before?”

“Before?” she repeated warily.

“Before you became Sackville’s mistress. A girl from the village who was willing to sell herself for fine clothes and a room at the manor? Or an impetuous merchant’s daughter, hoping to entice Sackville into marrying you but ending up as his—”

“Neither,” Mira interrupted, favoring him with a disdainful smile. So it seemed that Falkner was the same as the rest of his peers, eager to pass judgment on other people, contemptuous of the lower classes… so certain that he himself was above reproach. “Please excuse me, my lord. I would not soil your immaculate presence with my company any longer.”

She left him there while he stared after her, his mouth set and his handsome face cold.

Alec adopted a mask of charm and agreeability that night as he and the sixty-odd guests of Lord Sackville sat at the immense table in the eating room. His mood was only superficially pleasant, for inwardly he still

brooded about the girl in the rose gown… Mira… and he became more disgusted by the entire situation as he thought about it. How could she have agreed to become the mistress of William Sackville, a man more than twice her age? Could she actually cherish some tender feeling for the older man, or was it entirely a financial arrangement? It must be for the money, he decided savagely, remembering the expensive cut of her gown and the delicate beading on the bodice and sleeves. Yes, she was mercenary, as all women were at heart.

Despite his intention to enjoy the meal, he chewed and swallowed without much concentration on its delicate flavors. To him the truffled roast chickens were tasteless, the fresh river trout cooked in Bordeaux wine was uninteresting, as were the braised goose and glazed vegetables. The dinner conversation seemed interminable. On his left sat Lady Clara Ellesmere, the greatest bedhopperin London. On his right, Lady Caroline Lamb, vivacious and vaguely unbalanced. Alec could barely wait for the hunt to begin on the morrow, for at least that reduced life to more basic and less-complicated terms—predator and prey, the chase and the victory. He liked hunting because it was fast-paced, and on the field he could forget about such meaningless, nagging matters as Sackville and his woman.

The difficulty of hunting on the Sackville estate was the quantity of subdivided fields; the vast number of fences and hedges that the riders had to jump over made the sport more hazardous but also more exciting. In order to save the horses from the weary pace of a prolonged chase, each rider possessed two or more mounts, which were exchanged as frequently as necessary. Alec had brought three horses with him, his favorite being the chestnut named Sovereign, a skittish and spirited animal that required a hard ride before the main event began in late morning.

An hour or so after the sun rose, Alec was out riding Sovereign alone. Later in the day he would have to change into appropriate hunting attire, including a top hat and red coat. For now he was dressed casually in a pleated white shirt, tan pantaloons, and cuffed topboots. The morning coolness clung to his clothes and dusted his coal-black hair with sparkling dampness as he rode through the woods. The horse was more nervous than usual and Alec grinned as he decided to give the animal a freer rein.

“All right, boy, we’ll work some of the energy out of you,” he said, touching his spurless heels to the animal’s sides, and they catapulted through the woods at a breakneck pace. The clean, fresh air seared through his lungs, filling his senses with exhilaration. In these few minutes Alec was aware of being completely alive. There was freedom in not having to think, in letting the power of muscle, motion, and reflex take hold of him. They soared over a hedge, the straining urgency of galloping removed for the second that they were airborne, light as a breeze. Then sharp, fleet hooves dug into the ground again and the mad flight continued. Another hedge followed, but just after taking it, Alec saw another fence loom directly in front of him. It was too late to refuse the jump and they were not going fast enough to clear it. He had no time to react before the horse’s front hooves clattered against the top rail.