The Season(82)

“You might try lowering your voice as well,” Vivi suggested. “You’ll wake everyone in the house if you keep on like that.”

She sat. And lowered her voice. “I’m sorry. I simply…well, I seem to be rather overly excited.”

“Really?” Ella said sarcastically, leaning back on the couch, one hand over her eyes, exhausted, but still managing to elicit a laugh from the others in the room.

“What is it that is amusing you all?” The voice came from the doorway of the library, drawing the attention of the entire group. Four heads turned toward Blackmoor, who entered with a tired, curious smile on his face.

Alex drank in the sight of him, thoroughly disheveled—somewhere he had lost his waistcoat and his cravat, his blond hair was unruly, falling into his face after hours of his running his fingers through it in concentration, and she could detect the hint of a beard on his face, which he had not shaved since that morning. He had never looked more handsome, more remarkable. She had never wanted to be near him so very much.

His grey gaze fell on her from across the room, and she could feel his inspection as he studied her. She longed for five minutes with a looking glass as she touched her hair nervously, knowing that he was seeing the stray auburn locks that had come loose from her topknot, her tired eyes, her wrinkled dress. Pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, she looked into his eyes and recognized the intensity there. It was the same emotion she’d seen that afternoon, and the night before. Her breath caught. He loved her.

She was shaken from her reverie by Vivi and Ella, who stood up in unison.

“I find myself exhausted,” Vivi said, making a show of a wide stretch.

“Indeed. It has been a long day for me as well,” replied Ella, who did not have to fabricate the yawn that followed her words.

They looked to each other with a nod, and then to Will, who was still seated comfortably in his chair. “And you, my lord?” Vivi said politely. “Are you not tired after your long day?”

“No. I find myself feeling rather energized.”

Ella and Vivi looked at each other, and Vivi tried again, with a slightly firmer tone, “Perhaps you would feel differently if you found your chamber, my lord.”

“I don’t think so.” The corner of Will’s mouth twitched, betraying his amusement.

“William, you would try the patience of a saint,” Vivi said with a smile. “Must I ask you to escort two young women frightened of the dark upstairs?”

He laughed aloud. “You two? Frightened of something? I find that very difficult to believe.”

Ella lost her patience with the entire conversation. “Will, just leave the room. Go wherever you’d like. But give Alex and Blackmoor some peace, please?”

Will winked broadly at her. “Now that’s a request to which I cannot help but respond.” He stood, waiting for Ella and Vivi to kiss Alex good night, then motioned them to precede him from the room.

When the trio had left, Gavin started across the room to Alex, who felt a sudden wave of nervousness. To cover it up, she said, “We seem to have a connection with libraries in the evening, don’t we?”

He paused, cocking his head, contemplating her statement. She loved that about him. He really did think about what she said. Even when it was inane. And about libraries. “Indeed, we do,” he replied finally, joining her on the chaise and taking her hands in his.

“It’s interesting, really, when you think that the library isn’t a room typically used in the evening, what with the difficulty of reading by candlelight and the high ceilings. They simply devour light usually. Not my parents’ libraries, of course, as you can see. They can also be rather drafty but, again, not these. These are—”

He kissed her, interrupting her rambling. Within moments, she had forgotten what she was saying.

“Alexandra,” he said, pulling away slightly and staring deep into her eyes. “My God, I love you.”

She dipped her head, made shy by the comment.

“I don’t know what I would have done without you today,” he said, his voice rich with emotion. “I don’t know how I would have handled my uncle and I can’t imagine how any of us would have found the information left by my father, but, most importantly, I don’t know how I would have survived the last few hours—poring over that information until I finally understood the reasons behind my father’s death—if I hadn’t known you were here, waiting for me.”

“I’m so sorry, Gavin. About everything. I’m sorry it happened to you.”

“I’m not,” he said, kissing the tip of her nose lightly.

“You aren’t?” she asked, surprised.

“I’m sorry my father was killed. I would do anything to get him back…and I imagine I shall feel that way forever. But the rest of the events…those I don’t regret. You see, they brought me to you.”

They embraced for a long moment, breathing each other in, savoring this end to such a harrowing, exhausting day. Minutes later, Blackmoor pulled back from her and asked, “Don’t you want to know what your father and I discussed?”

“No. I mean, not unless you want me to know. I understand that you might want to keep that conversation private.”

“Really? That’s very mature of you.” He leaned back on the chaise, closing his eyes, a hint of a smile playing across his lips.