"I am," Maude said, stepping out from behind him.
The room hushed as she walked slowly toward her daughter, her cane clicking as she went. Even Rex shut his big mouth and remained quiet.
"I was but eighteen when I arrived here at Hawkridge," Maude said in a flat voice, as though she had rehearsed this many times. The rhythmic clicks accompanied her resolute words. "I considered I'd landed in heaven when I was offered a position as nanny to the marquess's son. But at twenty the head groom raped me, and I landed in hell instead."
The clicking stopped as she stood there, gazing down at her daughter pinned beneath the massive dog.
"Had the master known I was with child," she continued, "I would have been turned out without a reference. I was a mite plumper in those days, but at seven months I was forced to feign illness and return home. After birthing the child, I left her to my mam to raise. When she reached the age of fourteen, I found a position for her here, but we never told anyone we were related." She heaved a great, shuddering sigh. "My Peggy, what have you done?"
Maude's eyes rolled back in her head as she collapsed in a rather graceful heap.
"I tried to scare her into leaving," Peggy answered her mother's still form, "but she just wouldn't, the stubborn chit."
Ernest knelt down to feel Maude's blue-veined wrist for a pulse. "She's only fainted," he reported.
Everyone released a collective breath.
"Excellent," Tris said. "Please move her to the bed and then go fetch the sheriff. The man is earning his keep this day."
He was still holding Alexandra. While they waited for the authorities, he finally released her and took her hand instead, clutching tight as they told their rapt audience all about Maude and his uncle's accidental poisoning.
Maude woke from her faint, rolled over, and went to sleep. Rex remained sitting on Peggy until the sheriff arrived and hauled her away. It seemed hours before the servants finally drifted back to their jobs, leaving Alexandra and Tris alone in their room.
Well, except for a slumbering Maude and a slobbering mastiff.
Tris was still holding Alexandra's hand. "Good dog," he told Rex, then turned to her. "See, I told you he didn't hate you."
"He saved my life," she said in wonder.
"There's no need to give him quite that much credit. There were twenty-odd servants waiting to rescue you if he hadn't. They all love you, Alexandra. And I love you, too."
"You…what?" Had he really said those words?
He glanced again at Rex, then at Maude still in their bed. With a sigh, he drew Alexandra from the room and down the corridor. "I love you," he repeated quite clearly.
And with that, he pulled her into the Queen's Bedchamber, used one booted foot to slam the door shut in Rex's face, and backed her up against it, crushing his mouth to hers.
The kiss was wildly possessive, a blatant statement of ownership that weakened her knees and stole her breath. And through all of it, she heard Tris's words repeating in her head.
I love you, I love you, I love you.
She'd known it, but she hadn't known how much it would mean to hear it. Tears sprang to her eyes.
"You cannot cry now," he admonished, his hands working the buttons on the back of her dress. "I cannot ravish a sobbing woman." He kissed her chin and her throat, nibbling his way down toward her bosom. "I love you. Have I told you I love you? You may not have saved my life, but you rescued it from oblivion, you stubborn chit."
Wrestling his coat down his arms, she laughed. "I did it for myself as much as for you. I'm a selfish chit as well."
"You're an irredeemable chit," he said, tossing his cravat to floor. He started lowering her dress, then stopped and brushed at it. "How the devil did you get so dusty?"
"I scooted under the bed to hide from Peggy."
"I love you," he said and laughed, either finding it funny she'd scooted under the bed, or perhaps from nervous relief—she wasn't sure which. And she didn't really care. She felt free and easy with him for the first time ever, and that mattered so much more.
"I shall have to have a talk with Mrs. Oliver," she said, looking down at herself in disgust. "There is no excuse for such muck to be under the beds."
He laughed even harder. "I love you," he said.
"Where did Peggy get a gun?" she suddenly wondered.
Tris shook his head. "She nearly killed you," he murmured, still looking rather pale.
"I guess she did." Alexandra took a bracing breath. "Are you going to tell me you told me so?"
He shook his head again, appearing dazed.
"How can someone named Peggy have done so many terrible things?" she asked. "It's such a sweet, innocuous name."
That seemed to jar him out of his stupor. "I love you," he said, and this time the laugh rumbled in his chest as he held her close for a long moment. Then he pushed her dusty dress down and off, stepping back to view her in the sheer blush-toned chemise.
It seemed like forever since she'd put it on before the "picnic." So very much had happened since then.
His voice went lower and husky. "That chemise would tempt a monk, my lady marchioness. Wherever did you get something so wicked?"
She grinned as she unbuttoned his waistcoat. "Will it also tempt a marquess?"
"Hmm. I think it just might." He wrapped her in another hug, squeezing her so tight she groaned in protest. "Sorry," he said. "I seem to keep forgetting you're still bruised. But that's because I love you. I think I will tell you I love you every five minutes for the rest of our lives."
"That won't be necessary," she told him with an amused smile. "But I'm glad you finally figured it out."
He sobered, skimming the backs of his
