The Scandals Of An Innocent

Alice turned toward him and Miles felt fierce emotion slam through his gut. He looked at her. Her face was white and set, the rich gold of her hair seeming to accentuate her pallor. Everything that she had been through that day had evidently exhausted her, for her blue eyes looked so tired and strained that he had a sudden, violent urge to wrap her up and hold her close to give her a comfort that was for once entirely unselfish and not remotely sexual.

The feeling floored him. He knew he was losing his detachment and he had no idea how it could have happened. Earlier on, when he had been trying to rationalize why he had felt so disturbed when Alice was shot, he had told himself that he would dread losing her simply because she was the only one who stood between him and the debtor’s prison. If something happened to Alice he could hardly wed her mother instead. Not even he would stoop to courting Mrs. Lister in order to marry a fortune. He had some standards. So it was, literally, a matter of survival-his survival-that he should protect Alice, guard her and keep her safe.

Yet such glib excuses hardly explained the depth of his feelings. Suddenly it was no longer all about him and what Alice could give to him but seemed to be about her instead. He wanted to comfort and reassure her, care for her and cherish her. And suddenly he knew with a deep conviction that Alice would never seek to hurt him. Dexter’s and Nat’s suggestions were completely wrong. He had no evidence to support the belief, other than his feelings, but his faith in her was absolute.

It shook him to the core.

It was inexplicable. It was alarming.

It was wrong.

He simply could not feel like this. His emotional reaction could only be a rather odd manifestation of his frustration at being denied Alice’s bed. Everything came down to physical lust in the end. It had to. And he had to find a way to regain control.

“I had a headache,” Alice said. “I needed some fresh air.” She smiled at him. She even looked pleased to see him, which only served to irritate Miles more when he was so angry with her for putting herself at risk.

“So you thought to come out here alone when there is a madman running around with a rifle,” Miles said cuttingly. “What an astoundingly bad idea, Miss Lister!”

Alice paused, one hand resting against the trunk of one of the apple trees. A small frown dented her brow. “You are angry with me,” she said.

Miles tried to get a grip on his feelings. “I am trying to protect you,” he said, “and you are making it difficult for me.” He took her arm in a tight grip. “I am taking you back inside.”

Alice’s face set in stubborn lines. “I came out here because I wished for some solitude.”

“And now you are going back.”

Alice gave a sharp sigh. “You are overbearing.” She shot him a look of irritation. “Mama tells me that you wish to stay here at Spring House in order to protect me. I cannot allow it. It is quite unnecessary.”

“To the contrary,” Miles said. “It is absolutely necessary and you do not have any choice, Miss Lister.”

Alice shook her head. “Always you push for more, do you not, Lord Vickery?” she said. She sounded bitter. “And always I am compelled to agree.”

“It is the nature of the game between us,” Miles said, unsmiling.

“It isn’t a game!” Alice snapped. “And this whole thing is so foolish! I have been thinking, and there is no one who could possibly want to kill me! The only people who would benefit from my death would be Mama and Lowell, and neither of them-” She stopped abruptly, seeing the look on Miles’s face. He knew she had read it, that she understood it. Her face went blank with shock. “You think that Lowell might want to harm me,” she whispered. “You do, don’t you?”

Miles sighed. “Not necessarily,” he said, “but we must consider all possibilities, Miss Lister.”

“No,” Alice said. “No!” She stopped walking and snapped a twig from one of the trees, breaking it agitatedly between her fingers. “You have seen how protective he is of me,” she said. “Mama and Lizzie said he was distraught when he first heard the news.” She made a little gesture of desperation. “Surely you cannot believe that he would hurt me? My own brother?”

Miles said nothing. He understood how difficult it was for people to accept sometimes that those they loved could hurt them. And he did not really suspect Lowell Lister of wishing Alice dead. Lowell might want him dead, which was an entirely reasonable desire, he thought wryly, but he doubted Lowell would hurt Alice.

“There is another possibility,” he said. “We also need to consider that it might have been Tom Fortune.”

“Tom?” Alice said. She looked taken aback. “But why would he hurt me?”

“I don’t know,” Miles said. “Perhaps Miss Cole told you something significant that he was afraid you might pass on to me?”

They had reached the garden door now and Miles stood back to allow Alice to precede him into the house. She walked slowly down the corridor into the hall, drawing off her gloves as she went. Her head was bent and he could not see her expression.

“I can think of nothing else that Lydia said to me,” she said, after a moment. Miles helped her off with her coat, allowing his hands to linger on her shoulders as he turned her around.

“You are sure?” he pressed, and saw the pink color stain her cheekbones. “You look very guilty,” he added smoothly. “What secrets are you keeping from me?”

Alice blushed all the hotter. It made Miles want to touch her, to see if her skin felt as warm and silken as it looked.

“Nothing!” she said. “It is nothing to do with this matter-”

“Tell me,” Miles said.

She shot him a look from under her lashes. “It is none of your business.”

“I am your affianced husband,” Miles said. “It is all my business.” He took her chin in his hand and forced her to meet his gaze. “Tell me,” he said again.

Alice looked cross. “Oh, very well. I suppose that if you were to fulfill Lady Membury’s conditions and we actually do marry then you will surely find out the truth anyway-”

“Are you trying to tell me that you are not a virgin, Miss Lister?” Miles said. He thought of the open and artless way in which she had responded to his lovemaking. Had he been mistaken in thinking her innocent? And if she were not did he have any grounds whatsoever for objecting? He had scarcely behaved like a saint. With his reputation he would seem an utter hypocrite were he to cut up rough about his wife’s lack of virtue. Except, of course, that society had the most appalling double standards on the subject, and he might be unconventional but he was not sure that he was unconventional enough to deal with it…

“Lord Vickery!” Alice’s pale face was totally suffused with color now. “What is that to the purpose?” she inquired, sounding like an outraged archduchess. “Would it matter to you if I were not?”

“No,” Miles said, still trying desperately to dispel the vision of Alice rolling in a haystack with some well-set-up young farmhand. Then he realized he was lying. “Yes, it would,” he said.

“I see,” Alice said frostily. “I cannot quite see how we come to be discussing this matter in public-”

Miles turned and saw that Marigold and Jim had both emerged from the servants’ quarters and were tidying up their damp outdoor clothing whilst at the same time making no attempt to disguise the fact that they were eavesdropping shamelessly. He grabbed Alice’s arm and hustled her through the door into the parlor.

“This was not what I wanted to talk about,” Alice said as Miles closed the door behind them. “I was broaching a different subject entirely-”

“We’ll discuss that in a moment,” Miles said. “Miss Lister, I am aware that you have been in service and as such may have been unprotected and prey to the lusts of gentlemen-”

“There is nothing remotely gentlemanly about making a servant girl the object of your lust,” Alice said sharply. Suddenly there was so much anger clear in her voice that Miles was shocked to hear it.

“It is quite acceptable for a man of your stamp to seduce a housemaid for sport,” she said, “and yet you demand virginity from the housemaid you blackmail into being your wife.” She gripped her hands together. “You are all the same. You are all callous and selfish and think that a woman is fair game for your seduction-”

“Wait,” Miles said. He grabbed her wrists. “Who are all the same?” he