Swept Away - Page 2

Through a mist of tears she had seen only the silver sheen of his hair and had mistaken him for an elderly gentleman, but when her vision cleared, she realized he was far closer to forty than sixty. While his hair was gray his brows and lashes were black. His skin was deeply tanned, with laugh lines etched at the corners of his vivid blue eyes. He was a handsome man with a charming smile, and while she knew she must have met him, she was embarrassed she could not recall his name.

Rather than rise as a gentleman should, Alex patted the hassock in front of his chair. “You must sit down a moment and compose yourself,” he invited with another enticing smile.

Eden hesitated, for she knew she should not be alone with him, but then, what did it matter? she wondered. She had no interest in the party, and sharing a few moments’ conversation with a pleasant gentleman might be the only enjoyment she would have that evening.

Eden artfully arranged the voluminous folds of her white satin gown and its stiff crinoline petticoat so she could sit down with a ladylike grace. She then apologized again, “I truly am sorry, but I’ve met so many people of late that I’m afraid I’ve forgotten your name. Should I be addressing you as m’lord? I constantly forget to do that and I don’t mean to be rude.”

A slow smile played across Alex’s lips before he broke into an amused chuckle. Eden looked at him askance, clearly offended by that response, and he reached out to pat her hand lightly. She was wearing gloves, as was he, but that did not minimize the pleasure he received from their brief contact. “Most of the pompous fools here have as many titles as the books on these shelves,” he explained with a sweeping gesture toward the crowded stacks at his right. “It’s no wonder you can’t recall a name or two. I would be pleased if you called me Alex. You’re Eden Sinclair, are you not? Lady Lawton’s niece?”

Eden looked down at the linen handkerchief he had so thoughtfully provided. If he knew her name, then he knew everything there was to know about her and she saw no reason to be coy. “Yes, I am, and I’ve had quite enough teasing about being a beautiful rebel for one night. If only England had agreed to be our allies, then surely things would not be going so poorly for the Confederacy.”

Alex reached out again, this time to tilt Eden’s chin up so her gaze was level with his. She had remarkable eyes for a blonde, for rather than the usual blue or green, hers were a rich golden shade, a sparkling topaz deepened with flecks of brown. Such a remarkable color would have been fascinating in itself, but Eden’s eyes were framed with a lush border of long, dark lashes that made her glance utterly devastating. Her hair was the glorious golden blond of ripening wheat, streaked with silvery sun-kissed highlights. Her crown of curls gave her a deceptively childlike innocence at first glance, but her golden gaze held a wisdom far beyond her years. Her preoccupation with America’s Civil War showed Alex she possessed a depth of character most young women her age lacked, and he immediately decided he liked her far too much to tease.

“I think your aunt must be looking for you,” he cautioned slyly before dropping his hand, but he purposely did not urge her to rejoin the party.

“I doubt it. She is devoted to her daughter, while I am merely a burden to her,” Eden responded much too quickly.

“I fail to see why you would be jealous of Stephanie. Her beauty does not begin to compare with yours,” Alex assured her with the same easy confidence that marked all his comments.

“I am not jealous!” Eden squared her shoulders proudly, and as she took a deep breath, another inch of the smooth swell of her bosom showed above the deep ruffle that edged her low-cut bodice. Unmindful of that tantalizing sight, she was horribly embarrassed she had thoughtlessly revealed so much to a stranger.

“Forgive me, I misunderstood,” Alex replied with a knowing smile. He held Eden’s attention with a teasing glance until she began to smile too. His gaze then strayed down the elegant line of her throat to the lush swell of her breasts. Her skin was a lovely shade, a pale creamy gold rather than the lifeless ivory so many women thought men admired. Eden Sinclair struck him as a rare beauty, glowing with the pride and spirit she seemed to find so difficult to contain.

From what he could recall of her mother, she had been a similar high-strung beauty who had spurned several titled Englishmen to marry a Virginian whose family fortune had been derived from shipping American cotton to English mills. Alex had never met the man, but was nevertheless impressed that he had sired such a lovely daughter.

As Alex studied her, Eden was observing him with equal interest for he was unlike the other Englishmen she had met. He was neither cold and aloof, nor overly friendly. His clear blue gaze held the sparkle of polite interest rather than the amused disdain she had so often observed. Her aunt had insisted she attend a near endless round of balls and parties since she was of an age to take a husband, but Eden was wise enough to know few men would consider her when they were ready to choose a wife. She had once been a pampered Southern belle, an heiress whose only care had been which of her many beaus to favor with a smile, but with the War going so badly for the South, there was too great a possibility her once highly respected family would find themselves impoverished to make her worth courting.

Her aunt had sought, without success, to squelch her rebellious spirit, to discourage all interest in the progress of the War as unladylike, but she had succeeded only in making Eden aware of a stubborn streak of defiance she had not even realized she possessed until she had been sent to England the previous fall.

“I must be more careful of what I say,” Eden admitted regretfully. “I’m afraid I frequently fail to display the elegance of manner my aunt and her friends require, much to her regret.”

“That isn’t true, Miss Sinclair. Your deportment is flawless,” Alex contradicted firmly. “I have observed you on several occasions and your aunt has no justification for complaint on any account. It should be obvious to all that you’re a young woman of refinement and breeding.”

Eden drew back slightly, uncertain whether or not she liked the idea of his watching her so closely as he had just admitted. “Leaving the ball to wander the house was an unforgivable breach of etiquette as I’m sure you must know, as is being here with you, but I could not pretend for another minute to be enjoying the party when those I love best are suffering so terribly.”

When Alex nodded sympathetically, Eden was sufficiently encouraged to continue. “Tonight, and everywhere I go, I’m surrounded by pretense. I am eager for any news from home, but all I hear is insincere flattery rather than true conversation. I prefer silence to the outrageous flirting most of the young women receive.”

Puzzled, Alex leaned forward slightly, “Most of the women, but not you?”

“No, the men are very cautious where I’m concerned. I have a sizable dowry, but it doesn’t compensate for the fact that, if the South loses the War, my family may lose all they own.”

Alex could not recall another woman mentioning the size of her dowry to him. It was a shocking remark actually, and yet, it did not seem out of place between them. A most intriguing thought occurred to

him, and he could not ignore it. “What if the South were not at war? What if you were here merely to become acquainted with your English relatives, and had your parents’ permission to stay for as long as you desired? Would your opinion of the evening be different?”

Eden took a deep breath and held it a moment as she gave his question the careful consideration it deserved. “I’m sorry, but the War has been far too costly for me to pretend for even a minute that it does not exist. I’m afraid that even when it’s over I’ll have no home to which to return. It’s only the young women without such serious concerns that can find a ceaseless stream of empty compliments amusing.”

Alex knew he should escort Eden back to the ballroom, or at the very least tell her to go but he was loath to do it. It was so very pleasant sitting there talking in the cozy confines of the library that he had as little interest as she in returning to the crowded party where none of the remarks would be so delightfully spontaneous. He again took her hand and slowly drew it to his lips.

“You’re a treasure, Eden, and any man who does not see that doesn’t deserve even a moment of your time.”

His manner was too sincere for Eden to think he was merely trying to flatter her, but before she could thank him for that compliment, the door opened and a strikingly handsome young man strode into the room. He was tall and dark, with eyes so deep a brown they appeared as black as the unruly ebony curls that dipped low over his forehead. While he was as well dressed as Alex and the other male guests, there was a wildness about him his splendid evening clothes could neither disguise nor contain. The boldness of his entrance shattered the calm mood of the library as surely as the first bolt of lightning announces the coming of a storm. His piercing glance frightened Eden and she was relieved when he dismissed her quickly and spoke to her companion.

“I’m ready to go now if you are,” he announced confidently to Alex.

Alex rose, and after helping Eden to her feet, he introduced the young man as his nephew. “You must forgive Raven’s rudeness, but he shares your view of tonight’s guests. Only in his opinion, it’s the women who speak nothing but flattering lies.”

Eden’s eyes widened at that jest and she suddenly felt very foolish for having confided such private thoughts without any assurance Alex would keep them to himself. Terribly embarrassed to have made so potentially disastrous an error, she returned Raven’s brief greeting then excused herself and hurriedly left the library.

Tags: Phoebe Conn Historical
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