A Most Unconventional Courtship

‘Thank you, Wilkins. Lady Trevick has invited me to stay here.’

‘So I understand, Miss Meredith.’

‘I shall be arriving tomorrow morning.’

‘Very well. To which address shall I direct the footman and the trap to collect you and your luggage?’

‘I am afraid the track is not suitable for wheeled vehicles. I will ask a neighbour to lend me mules and one of the boys will take them back, I am sure.’

‘It would be easier by sea.’ Chance stood up. ‘I shall bring a boat into the bay below the village at ten, if your friends will be able to transport your luggage down.’

Oh, really? And just what did he expect would happen once they were alone again in a boat?

‘Thank you, my lord,’ she said sweetly, with a smile for the benefit of the waiting butler. ‘But I am sure that would make me feel unwell—the action of the boat, you understand.’

‘I understand perfectly.’ Chance smiled too; Alessa only hoped the butler was deceived by it, for she was not. He was furious with her. Why had she been worried at the thought of the boat? He probably only wanted to spend the journey by sea quarrelling with her.

With a tight smile she walked away from him, followed by Wilkins, and did not look back.

‘Hell and damnation! Double damnation.’ Chance flung himself on to the bench where Alessa had been sitting and dropped his head into his hands. He felt like tearing his hair out, but that was not going to get him anywhere. He leant back against the uprights of the arbour and tried to think. What had gone wrong just now?

Alessa had been upset over her encounter with her aunt, which was to be expected. It must have been emotional for both of them, and, unused to society and the manners that prevailed in it, Alessa had not understood the reserve that must be habitual with her aunt. Lady Blackstone would have been trying to soothe Alessa’s fear of change with the offer to have her inheritance sent here to Corfu, but it was unthinkable that she could have meant it. Her plan would have been to wait until her niece was calmer and more used to her new family before explaining that, in reality, she had no choice but to take her back to England.

To leave her, the granddaughter and niece of earls, to live unmarried and independent on a Greek island? Unthinkable. People would consider her no better than that outrageous Stanhope woman, gallivanting around the Mediterranean with her lover. And Lady Hester Stanhope was a good ten years older. Alessa would be ruined—and worse, the Lord High Commissioner, one of the most influential people in the entire area, would know of it, to the shame of her new-found family.

But trying to explain that to Alessa, just at the moment, would be futile. She was too proud and too independent and it would take several weeks living in the company of English ladies before she realised that and changed her attitude.

Chance got up and walked across the terrace, just in time to catch a glimpse of the white mule, Alessa sitting sideways on the big wooden saddle, vanishing up the track. That ridiculous hat! He could imagine it, decked with wild flowers on some village saint’s day.

Her reaction to her aunt was one thing, and a problem that time would solve. But what had just gone so wrong between them? Had she truly believed he was intending to make her his mistress? But if so, why had she not said anything as they sat on the beach yesterday? Or today, when that tide of passion had washed over both of them in that musty little storeroom? Could it be that she had been expecting a carte blanche and would have accepted it—until she discovered that she had an inheritance that would make her independent? Did she believe now that she could catch other men, receive proposals of marriage?

Certainly she could have that expectation. If her aunt was careful how she introduced her back into the polite world, and Alessa was discreet, then the well-connected Miss Meredith, daughter of a military hero and in possession of a respectable competence, could expect to have no difficulties on the Marriage Mart.

And if he told her he loved her now, she would imagine that he was trying to excuse his behaviour in making love to her and perhaps that he had decided that she would be an proper connection as a wife. That there were many far more eligible than she Alessa would have no way of knowing with her complete ignorance of the society. Nor could she have any inkling of his wealth and his connections. The Earl of Blakeney might marry where he wished.

‘You arrogant…’ The echo of Alessa’s furious, unfinished insult cut across this complacent reflection. She was probably right, damn it. His family and friends would say he had every justification—not for arrogance, of course, but for proper pride and a sense of his own worth. But Alessa was the woman he wanted to marry, the woman he was in love with, and if she thought him arrogant, then he was just going to have to prove to her that she was wrong about him.

‘Benedict, my dear friend.’ It was Zagrede, strolling—or perhaps prowling was the better word—out on to the terrace. ‘Come for a sail with me in my skiff. The ladies can watch from the shore, admiring our manly ability to tame the treacherous ocean, and then perhaps Lady Trevick will soften and let us take the young ladies out tomorrow.’He lounged gracefully against the balustrade.

Chance admired the showmanship, could appreciate the effect it must have on the ladies, but at the same time, he recognised something dangerous in the Count. This was not some charming mountebank, pretending to an exotic glamour. This man could use the knife in his belt and would kill to defend what was his with very little compunction. In fact, he thought, agreeing with a smile to Zagrede’s proposal, he would probably kill to acquire what he wanted. A powerful friend in this part of the world, and a very dangerous enemy.

‘And where is our new houseguest?’ the Count enquired, padding along at Chance’s elbow as he went inside to change. ‘She is a very unexpected and very lovely young lady; I look forward to getting to know her better.’

‘I’d wager you do,’ Chance said, realising the moment the words left his lips that they were not delivered in the light tone that should have convinced Zagrede that he was simply jesting. The Count sent him a penetrating look as he shouldered open his bedchamber door. Chance had too much sense than to make things worse by attempting to explain his abruptness. Furious with both the other man and himself, he caught himself before he could give in to his instinct to turn and snarl ‘You cannot have her—she is mine’ into the Count’s face.

Lord, he is making me as much of a savage as he is! His sense of the ridiculous surfaced and, instead of snarling, Chance turn

ed and promised to be down at the beach in ten minutes.

Tomorrow Alessa would be in this house. He must treat her no differently to any of the other three young ladies and she would learn to trust him again, just as she would learn to accept the inevitability of her return to England.

‘You are leaving us!’ Dora’s eyes were huge with welling tears. ‘You are going to go away and leave us.’

Alessa pulled the child tight against her, her heart aching at the alarm in the little girl’s eyes. She had been abandoned once before and the insecurity ran deep. ‘No, I promise you, I will never leave you. I am going on a visit, that is all. I have found my aunt and she wants to get to know me better. Then, after a few days, she will get to know you and Demetri. But it is a big shock, finding me. I think she would like to take things a little bit slowly, and it is not her house, so inviting three people to stay is difficult.’

She reached out her free hand and caught hold of Demetri. Too much the man to cry, she could read his emotion in the set of his jaw. Hugging both children to her, she went and sat on the bench under the olive tree. ‘It would be very difficult for me to go if you were not both so grown up and sensible.’

‘Why?’ Demetri sounded gruff.