The Sherbrooke Bride (Sherbrooke Brides 1)

She had effectively removed herself, he realized. She’d closed down and moved inward. Oh, she was still seated in her chair, but the spark in her was effectively doused. She looked pale and cold and flattened.

Douglas couldn’t bear it. He tossed his napkin on his plate and pushed back his chair. “Alexandra, you will accompany me to the library, if you please.” Douglas had learned his lesson. Instead of merely walking out of the dining room, assuming she would instantly follow him, he remained standing beside her chair, waiting. She looked up at him and sighed. No more scenes, she thought, knowing that suddenly everyone at the table, Hollis and the two footmen, all of them were holding their breaths, waiting to see what outrageous act she would pull next.

“Certainly, my lord,” she said, and allowed Harry to pull back her chair. She even placed her hand on Douglas’s proffered forearm.

“Excuse us,” Douglas said. “Please continue. Tony, do strive for a little conversation. And don’t shred my character any more than has already been done.”

“I shall tell an anecdote from our misspent youth,” Tony said, his eyes on Alexandra.

“Oh yes, do,” Sinjun said. “I remember both Douglas and Ryder were greatly misspent.”

The dowager countess said in a penetrating voice just as Douglas and Alexandra were nearly out of the dining room, “Poor Douglas. Whatever will he do with that one? You were a wicked boy, Tony, to saddle him with the likes of her and keep this beautiful jewel for yourself.”

Melissande, to Douglas’s surprise, said, “Alexandra is my sister, ma’am. You will not speak of her in a displeasing manner, if you please.”

“Hummmph,” said the dowager countess.

“Well done, love,” Tony said very close to his wife’s beautifully perfect small ear.

“Yes,” Melissande said, “I rather thought you would approve.”

“You are learning,” he said slowly. “Perhaps someday it will become a habit with you. You won’t have to consider my reaction before you take action.”

Alexandra didn’t say a word. She walked beside Douglas across the entrance hall, looking inadvertently from the corner of her eye where she’d been ignominiously tripped up by Sinjun and straddled on the marble floor.

She felt stripped and exposed and completely alone. She felt defeated. It was a relief to be away from all those dreadful people, but now she was with Douglas, the only person in the world who could truly crush her.

Douglas led her to the library, shut and locked the door. This time, he offered her the key. “To save me from possible further physical attack,” he said. “Although I see no furnishings in here you could use for another attack. Even you could not lift that wing chair. As for that hassock, don’t be deceived by its lack of mass. It weighs more than you do.”

She shook her head, moved quickly away from him, and stood behind a sofa, a dark brown leather affair that suited him immensely well.

He wished she would say something, but she didn’t. He tossed the key to the desktop.

He drew a deep breath and fastened her with his major’s eye. “All right, Alexandra, the time has finally come for us to get a few things straightened out.”

She looked at him, no clue to her thoughts or feelings showing on her face.

He frowned. “You have made me a laughingstock. I am not particularly pleased about that. However, what’s done is done. I am even willing to say that I did play something of a part in what happened, that I am somewhat to blame. Have you anything to say for yourself?”

“Your family made me a laughingstock. I am not particularly pleased about that. What’s done shouldn’t have happened, but it did. I’d further say that you played the largest part available. That’s what I have to say.”

“You’re right, to a point. It wasn’t well done of them. I won’t let it happen like that in future. Now we will get back to you and your behavior.”

She stared at him, mute.

“Were I you, I wouldn’t say anything either. An apology would sound suspect since your behavior has been that of a bedlamite, of a thoughtless, feckless hoyden unworthy of the title of countess.” Douglas came to a grinding halt. The diatribe was merited, indeed it was, but it wouldn’t gain him anything, not after the rounds of fire in the dining room. Aye, given the likely penchant of her current temper, she just might try to hurl the sofa at his head. He moderated his voice. “But, as I said, what’s done is done.” He gave her a smarmy smile. “We must look to the future now.”

“What future?”

“That is what I wish to discuss.”

“I cannot see much hope for a future. Your mother is distressed that you are married to me. It is also obvious that she would dote on Melissande as a daughter-in-law. But since Melissande is out of the running, there is still this Juliette person, who, although second to Melissande in beauty, still rates quite highly in terms of comeliness. As for me, I appear to be off the other end of the scale. Your mother would never accept me. I don’t fancy having to endure humiliation from you and then endure nastiness from her.”

And Douglas said without thought, “I imagine my mother looks at Melissande and sees no challenge to her authority. You, however, are made of sterner stuff and couldn’t be counted on to spend all your time on your clothing and planning for parties and balls. No, you would likely want to oversee the management of household affairs yourself.” He stopped, both surprised and appalled at what had come out of his mouth.

She saw that he was chagrined and said, “Be careful, my lord, else I might take that as a compliment, regardless of your intentions.”

“I didn’t mean it,” he said. “Melissande could most certainly be counted on to do her duty.”