Page 75 of A Stolen Heart

“You needn’t worry,” she told him crisply. “Even if I am the Countess’s granddaughter, I don’t plan to take up residence with her. I shall return to the United States. The family I know is there.”

She walked down the steps and climbed into the carriage without waiting for Sebastian’s help. Sebastian hurried after her.

“Then you plan still to return?” he asked as he sat in the seat across from her and the carriage moved away.

“As soon as my mother is able to. There is nothing for me here.”

“I am sure that the Countess will want you to remain,” Sebastian began carefully, wondering how he could persuade her to stay longer. He had to have time to figure out his emotions, to straighten out the mess he had made of his relationship with her. “Surely you cannot mean to break her heart by leaving her. She has lost so much already.”

Alexandra cast him a wary look. “Now you want me to be with the Countess? I thought you couldn’t wait for me to leave.”

“I didn’t know—” Sebastian began stiffly. “Dammit, woman, I do not want the Countess to be hurt. If you are her granddaughter, it will crush her if you leave.”

“I would visit her, of course, if she wanted me to.”

“I am sure she would want more than that.”

And you? Alexandra thought. What would you want from me? All he could seem to talk about were the Countess’s feelings, when all she wanted to know was how Sebastian would feel if she left. But that was too bold a question, she realized, even for a blunt American.

So she said nothing, and they continued their journey in silence, each of them occupied with their own gloomy thoughts.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

ALEXANDRA TILTED HER PARASOL TO BLOCK the sun and looked around at the rows of vehicles that lined the open field where the balloons lay. There were open curricles, landaus, barouches, heavy old-fashioned carriages, all full of ladies and gentlemen. Obviously the balloon ascension was quite a social event. There was as much visiting back and forth between the vehicles as there was interest in the balloons.

Alexandra looked at the field, littered by large baskets, or gondolas, each of them attached by ropes to huge, colorful balloons spread out limply on the grass. People scurried, performing various tasks around the inert balloons, ignoring those who had gathered to watch. Alexandra had not wished to come today, and she would have cried off if she had not thought it would be too rude at such late notice. She had spent the day before in a gloomy state, a condition not helped by the fact that she had heard nothing from Sebastian all day. She had told herself that it was absurd to expect to see or hear from him every day, as if there were some sort of agreement between them. But she could not keep from hoping that he might come to call this afternoon. It had been difficult to force herself to smile and go with Nicola and Penelope when they came. But now, she could not help but feel a stirring of interest as she watched the proceedings.

“Look!” Nicola’s voice was low but charged with emotion.

“What?” Alexandra glanced around the field, expecting to see something happening among the balloons. She turned to her companion in the open landau and saw that Nicola was looking not at the field, but down the line of vehicles to an elegant, high-sprung curricle that had just arrived.

A well-built man was maneuvering the vehicle, not very expertly, into place. Beside him sat a woman in a rose-pink dress, a dashing straw hat, upturned on one side, on her head. In her dainty gloved hand she held a parasol, which she tilted to keep the sun from her face. She smiled languidly at her companion and leaned over, her hand on his arm, to murmur something to him.

“Lady Pencross!” Alexandra exclaimed softly.

“Mother says that she is a disgrace to her sex and her station.” Penelope, on the other side of Alexandra, spoke. “Of course, Mother is apt to say that about a lot of people.”

“She’s right about Lady Pencross. One would never guess to look at her that her husband is dying in Yorkshire.”

“Look!” Penelope gripped Alexandra’s arm, her fingers digging in in her excitement. “There is Bucky.” Alexandra turned to look at the girl. Her face was glowing. “Lord Buckminster, I mean. I knew he would come today. And Sebastian is with him. Oh, dear, I hope he does not see Lady Pencross.”

Alexandra followed Penelope’s gaze, her pulse quickening. Lord Buckminster had just arrived in his curricle, and he and Sebastian were climbing from the high seat. Sebastian took off his hat as he turned to say something to Buckminster, and the sun glinted off his dark brown hair, warming it with reddish highlights. He was dressed simply, as always, but the elegant cut of his fawn trousers and dark coat emphasized the muscular lines of his legs and the breadth of his shoulders. He was, Alexandra thought, with a little catch in her breath, a man to whom few could compare. How had that Pencross woman been able to give him up for the sake of her husband’s wealth?

He turned and spotted Alexandra and her companions in their landau, the flexible top pushed back, accordianlike, to allow them to see and be seen. A smile spread across his face, lighting his features, and Alexandra felt a corresponding lightening in her chest. He said something to his companion, and the two men started through the rows of vehicles toward them.

“Nicola. Penelope.” Sebastian bowed toward the women, his eyes going past the others to Alexandra. “Alexandra.” His eyes searched her face, and Alexandra felt herself warming under his gaze. “It is a pleasure to see you here.”

Alexandra blushed. His words were commonplace enough, and she wondered if she was foolish to feel that they had special meaning.

The five of them chatted for a few moments, talking of commonplaces such as the weather and the balloons and a party that lay a few days ahead. After a time, Sebastian, who had worked his way around to stand beside Alexandra, inclined his head toward her and murmured, “Perhaps you’d care to stroll along the balloons and watch them being filled?”

He gestured toward the behemoth creatures, beginning to swell as the fires were lit and hot air directed into them. Alexandra smiled and nodded. “That sounds very nice.”

He offered her his arm, and they walked away from the others, moving down the line in front of the carriages where they could see better. Workers scurried around the balloons, busily filling them with air and getting them prepared. It was interesting enough, but Alexandra’s attention was scarcely on the activity. She was too aware of Sebastian close beside her, of his arm beneath her hand. She glanced at him, looking at his smooth cheek and the fall of his hair against his temple, the firm line of his jaw and chin. Why did he have to be so damned appealing? She thought about returning to America, and her heart was heavy in her chest. All the things she enjoyed there seemed suddenly bland and unappealing—work, her hobbies, the much quieter social round of parties.

“Alexandra…” Sebastian’s voice jerked her from her reverie.

“Yes?” She shifted her parasol to the other shoulder so that she could see his face better. He was frowning, looking in front of him rather than at her, and she realized, with a sinking sensation, that he had maneuvered her away from the others in order to talk to her, not because he had wanted to be alone with her. She braced herself for another argument.