The Season Page 61

“I feel quite certain that, between us, we will be able to devise a plan. Once we discover what the earl knew, we will take it to our fathers—and Blackmoor, of course—and prove that Alex was right.”

Alex smiled to herself. “I do like the sound of showing Gavin that I was right.” She paused before asking, “Does it make me a bad person that I feel that way only in part because it will help to avenge the earl’s death? The other part of me simply wants Gavin to see that I am, indeed, right.”

Vivi shook her head and said matter-of-factly, “Absolutely not. His behavior was unkind and unpleasant. I would be worried if there weren’t a small part of you that wanted to show him that you are right.”

“Which brings us to the next question,” Ella pointed out.

“Which is?” Alex was beginning to feel better about the entire evening.

“What was the kiss like?”

Alex thought for a moment, searching for the right word. Then, with a soft smile, she said, “It was wonderful. He was wonderful. The moment was…”

“Wonderful?” Vivi interjected with a laugh.

Alex grinned at her. “Quite.” The smile disappeared as quickly as it had come. “But now he’s furious with me. I doubt he’s reveling in the wonder of the moment.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Vivi said supportively. “It seems that when something is that wonderful, it’s hard to forget it. You’re not thrilled with his behavior right now and you remember how fabulous it was.”

“True,” Alex replied on a sigh.

“Be careful, Alexandra, you’re beginning to sound like the type of young lady who wants all those things typical young females want,” Ella said with warning in her voice, her nose wrinkled, “marriage, children, a house in Surrey.”

“What’s wrong with wanting marriage and children?” Vivi asked. “I want those things. Not Surrey,” she said with a raised finger, “but the rest.”

“True, but with you, it’s different. You’re pining after The One.” Ella said the last with an exaggerated swoon, which Vivi ignored.

“Well, maybe Blackmoor is Alex’s One.”

Ella turned an incredulous look on Alex. “Really?”

They both turned questioning looks on Alex, who thought for a moment before speaking. Was Gavin The One? Could she imagine spending the rest of her life with him? Certainly, his mere presence set her heart racing. When he flashed one of his private, conspiratorial grins, she wanted to stop whatever she was doing and just bask in the glow of his attention. And, if that wasn’t enough, she couldn’t imagine living a day without him in her life. Obviously, considering the events of the season, there was something between them. But was he The One? Did that person even exist? Shouldn’t it be easier to communicate with The One? Shouldn’t she understand him better? Shouldn’t she be able to articulate what she wanted from him? When it came right down to it, she couldn’t say what she wanted from Gavin Sewell, Eighth Earl of Blackmoor, except to say she wanted him with her. For now. And maybe forever.

Turning to her friends, she said simply, “I don’t know. However, I would like to find out.”

The three girls talked late into the night, eventually falling asleep on the bed long after the ball below ended and all the guests went home.

Alex had never been so happy to have her friends with her than she was that evening—they made the whole, horrible night seem tolerable. She knew without a doubt that, together, they would make this confusing, devastating situation right.

nineteen

Last night, everything had been so clear. His plans had been so well laid out, so perfect, so clean. He had returned home from the Worthington Ball to change clothes, planning to find young Blackmoor quickly and finally finish that which he should have finished long ago. As he changed out of his formal attire, he had imagined what it would feel like to eliminate the boy. How free and invigorated he would feel knowing that another high-and-mighty Blackmoor was gone from the earth. For moments, he had been giddy with laughter—eager to kill again. He’d allowed himself a few moments to fantasize about the manner in which he would dispose of the brat.

And then, everything had changed. A messenger had arrived at breakneck speed, barely able to breathe from the exertion. He had known before reading the missive that his plans for the evening were changed. Sadly, he would have to wait to exact his punishment on another Blackmoor, but the messenger had brought news of an unacceptable turn of events—one that must be rectified with all deliberate speed. He could not contain the hint of excitement that he felt in his new task—even though it increased a hundredfold his risk of being discovered. No matter. Here was his chance to prove his allegiance.

As always, he threw the note into the fire, watching the edges of the paper char and curl in the heat. He watched the lines of ink turn from black to brown and eventually become consumed by the flames. Long after the paper disintegrated, he remembered the message.

There was a girl in the orangery.

Find her.

He was going to enjoy this.

The next morning, Alex awoke to bright sunlight and the sound of fervent whispering. For a few seconds, she lingered in that moment between sleeping and waking when everything seems hazy and comfortable—until the memory of the previous evening’s events came crashing down on her and she had an intense desire to throw the covers over her head and never leave her bed.

Instead, she rolled over and spied the source of the whispering. Vivi and Ella were sitting cross-legged on the chaise, facing each other, the tea tray next to them laden with a steaming pot, pastries, and jams. Vivi nibbled on a scone, nodding as Ella waved her hands in the air wildly to emphasize her hushed point.

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