Alex saw the pain of loss reflected on Drake’s face, and instinctively she stepped closer to him. In response, and
to her surprise, she felt his fingers close around hers, squeezing gently. She realized that he was merely expressing his gratitude for her presence and her strength, and yet she was filled with such a sudden wealth of emotion that she had to blink back her tears. She felt a cold draft against the bare flesh of her palm as he gently disengaged his hand a moment later, when it was time to leave the church.
Holding Samantha’s arm, he turned to Alex.
“Come, love,” he said softly. “It is time to go.”
Alex nodded, the ache inside her heart unbearable. She had a sudden, childish, desperate yearning to have things as they had been but a week ago, when Drake had been hers; to negate the past few days and be whole again.
She dropped her gaze to the floor. It was impossible.
Numbly she stood outside the church, watching the mourners depart, lost in thought.
“Alexandria.” The voice was as familiar as it was startling.
“Mother?” Alex turned in amazement to stare at the dazzlingly beautiful golden-haired woman she had dreaded confronting and who now beamed down at Alex as though she were a small child that had done a most commendable deed.
Constance Cassel pressed her smooth cheek against Alex’s, careful not to muss her own exquisitely arranged hair in the process.
“I’m so very happy for you,” she murmured, as though they were close friends sharing a wonderful confidence.
“So very happy that a man is dead?” Alex was speechless with shock.
Constance raised her fair brows in amused reaction. “Of course not, love. Happy that you have found such a perfect husband.”
Alex wondered if a scandal would result from the Duchess of Allonshire’s sudden emptying of her stomach on the church steps.
Constance continued. “Of course I was a bit piqued when I discovered you had gone off to York, but when your father wrote and told me the circumstances—that you had wed Drake Barrett—well, that made things quite different.” She beamed. “I suppose even your first London Season paled in comparison to marriage to the most sought-after man in the ton.” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “I just wish you had confided in me. I, of all people, would have understood.”
“Mother”—Alex had heard enough—“I don’t know what Father told you, but—”
“Countess?” Drake’s sudden appearance at Alex’s side cut off her admonishment. He was all magnificent masculinity and charm as he kissed Alex’s mother’s hand. He was a damned duke.
“Hello, your grace,” she addressed him in return. “I am so terribly sorry about your father,” she crooned.
I’ll just bet you are, Mother, Alex fumed inwardly, I wonder how many of your friends you’ve already regaled with tales of your daughter, the duchess.
“Thank you, Countess. And please call me Drake. After all, we are family now.” His smile would have melted one of Greenland’s icebergs.
Constance simpered prettily. “Thank you, Drake. And may I tell you how thrilled I am about you and Alexandria? I was just telling her how lucky she was that you found each other.”
That did it. Alex was going to choke her.
“I am the lucky one.” Drake’s restraining hand stopped Alex in her tracks. “Your daughter is a rare and precious gift. You should be very proud of her.”
Alex looked up at him with startled surprise, realizing what he was doing. He hadn’t forgotten their conversations about her mother, and he was reminding the older woman of Alex’s virtues.
“Oh, I am,” Lady Sudsbury assured him. “Terribly proud. I hope that all I have taught her over the years will contribute to her being a suitable wife to you and mistress of Allonshire.”
“Oh, Alexandria’s assets were obvious right from the start,” he drawled back. “I never doubted that she would satisfy all of my requirements.”
Constance beamed. “I am delighted to hear that.” Remembering where she was, she lifted the edge of her black gown and dropped her eyes. “I will take my leave now, for this is not the time for joy. Please accept my condolences on the part of my husband and myself. Your father was a fine man.”
“Yes, he was.” Drake gave her a tight smile. “And I thank you for your understanding. Perhaps, when our mourning period is at an end, you will be our guest at Allonshire for a few days?”
“It will be my pleasure.” Always aware of the right time to make her exit, Constance turned to embrace a rigid Alex again. “He is smitten,” she whispered in Alex’s ear. “Now all you need to do is provide him with a son and he will give you the world.” She stepped back. “Good-bye, darling,” she said with the right amount of emotion in her voice. After all, one never knew who was watching, now, did one?
And in a fragrant cloud of jasmine she was gone.