Alexandra ignored him while her eyes trailed after Michael.
“My dear woman,” Michael replied. “I was merely wondering what it might take to earn such loyalty from you. The way in which you defend your brother is indeed quite admirable.”
Alexandra could do nothing but gape at the man. Had he just paid her a compliment? This was not the retort she had expected. It almost seemed as if he understood her point of view. But that was of course impossible. Or was it?
As she sat there now, watching Michael, she felt something . . . quite unfamiliar—a slow warmth seeping through her. The feeling was so unsettling that she involuntarily shrugged her shoulders to rid herself of it, only to find that it persisted. Alarm bells began going off in her head. Was she actually beginning to like Lord Trenton? It was true that they’d shared an enjoyable day together, but she hadn’t had the time to put much thought into it before now. What if she was slowly beginning to grow fond of him? Where did that leave her? He was impossibly good looking as it was, even when she despised him. If she were to start liking him . . .
Fear stopped her from dwelling on that thought any longer.
“So?”
Startled, Alexandra saw that both Ryan and Michael were watching her, the latter with a rather amused expression upon his face as if he knew precisely what was troubling her. Heat flooded her from head to toe and her heart quickened as it always did when she noticed Michael studying her. “Forgive me, my mind was elsewhere,” she said.
“Well,” Michael told her. “While you were so preoccupied with your woolgathering, I was saying that I intend to make a social call at the Tuileries Palace tomorrow afternoon in the hopes that William will be there.”
“Are you completely mad?” Alexandra gasped, stunned that she’d been so lost in thought to have missed this piece of information. “What if he’s not there? Or, what if Ryan and I are entirely mistaken and William is indeed collaborating with the French? Though I hate to do so, I must consider that possibility in this instance. What if the true purpose of your visit is discovered? What will you do then? You’ll get yourself killed!”
Michael stared at her intensely. “I would think that might please you,” he said.
Unable to meet his gaze for once, Alexandra turned toward Ryan. “I merely think it unnecessary to take such a risk,” she said. “Do you not agree?”
Through the corner of her eye she could see that Michael was watching her quite closely. What on earth must he be thinking? she wondered. She silently cursed herself before directing another curse at him for good measure.
“I think it may be worth the risk,” Ryan remarked. “We haven’t come up with anything else so far and we must determine what is going on before Bonaparte decides to ride into battle, as he undoubtedly intends to do sooner or later.”
“Well, then I suppose the matter is settled,” Alexandra stated, crossing her arms in front of her. “If you don’t mind, I shall leave you two to work out the details of this harebrained scheme of yours, since I’m clearly not needed. I am off to bed.”
Without another glance in either man’s direction, she got up from her chair, hoping Michael wouldn’t notice the hint of concern in her voice. “Men!” she huffed as she strode out of the parlor and headed toward her bedroom.
Alexandra paced about her room. What could she do? How could she stop the stubborn fool from endangering himself? There was nothing for it—she had to speak to him. She had to try to make him see reason. It was a mad scheme. Absolutely mad. Decision made, she went to the French doors . . . and paused. Maybe she was being too hasty. Maybe he’d come to his senses on his own. She went back to her pacing and pondering—her eyes constantly seeking out the doors. He’d think her insane if she sought him out now . . . on the balcony no less. It was a silly idea. She ought to forget all about it, she ought to . . . oh, dash it all!
Ten seconds later, she found herself knocking on his door, and then immediately wondered if it were too late to run back inside her own room and hide. Apparently, it was, for no sooner had she thought of doing so, than the door was yanked open, revealing a rather annoyed looking Michael. “What is it?” he asked her in a gruff tone that clearly marked his irritation.
“Not so happy to see me I take it?” she offered what she hoped to be her most dazzling smile, and for a moment he froze—or seemed to at least—and just stood there, staring at her in that same unsettling fashion she’d seen before.
And then the moment passed, and he said, “I’m tired, so please make it quick—whatever it is.”
And she would have, except that she was suddenly at a remarkable loss for words. So instead she just stood there, staring at Michael, searching for something, but with no idea of what. He seemed more tense than usual, and she couldn’t help but wonder why.
Something deep inside her sprang to life in that moment, with such force that it nearly knocked her off her feet. It struck her with sudden clarity, that she wanted his approval—not just professionally but as a woman. She wanted for him to find her just as enticing as any other young lady he might fancy, and it shook her to her core.
Heaven help her—she must be vainer than she’d ever imagined. It had never mattered to her what anyone thought of her, least of all any men. The interest in seeking approval from the opposite sex had simply not been there, particularly since she’d long since vowed that she would never marry. She didn’t fear becoming a spinster like all the other young ladies her age apparently did. She felt confident that retaining her independence would suit her rather nicely. And she had no interest in subjecting herself to the emotional turmoil her father had suffered upon her mother’s death. The whole tragedy had virtually torn their family apart. Their father had grown distant and introverted—not even protesting when Alexandra refused a season three years earlier. Her aunt had been outraged when she’d last visited and discovered how little care was being directed at the children, but she’d voiced a particular concern for Alexandra.
“A young lady should not be running rampant the way she does,” she’d told Bryce. Her father had merely shrugged his shoulders in response and asked, “What would you have me do, Virginia? I can barely take care of myself right now.”
Alexandra cringed just remembering his depressed tone, so clear that he’d lost all will to do anything. Penelope had died and so had Bryce’s strength to go on.
“Let me take her for a while,” Virginia had said as she’d cast a firm glance in Alexandra’s direction. Her aunt had clearly planned to turn her into her own pet project, and to Alexandra’s horror, her father had agreed. Not a week had passed however, before Alexandra was back home again, having stolen a horse and ridden haphazardly through the night, returning to Moorland at dawn.
Alex realized that something had changed inside her that very evening—Michael had told her that he admired her, and just like that, her eyes had been opened. In fact, just standing there in front of him now was turning her stomach inside out.
She’d been trying for five days to ignore how attractive she found him, but she no longer had the willpower. It was time to face reality. Michael Ashford was having a serious effect on her, and she still didn’t know what to make of it or what to do about it, though she was very eager to find out. “I want to discuss your plan for tomorrow, because I still think that walking into the lion’s den is complete lunacy.”
“Oh?” He studied her for a moment. “Do you have a better idea?”
“Let me go instead.”
Michael would have laughed had she not looked so serious. Deadly serious. What the devil was the matter with her? He thought he’d begun to understand who she was, only to discover that he wasn’t at all sure he was even beginning to figure her out. “I can’t let you do that,” he said simply.
“Why on earth not? I’ll be far more discreet and far more capable of wiggling my way out of danger. You on the other hand will be in constant peril the minute you step through the front door.”
“And this concerns you why exactly?” he couldn’t help but ask. He had a growing suspicion, but he needed to push her just a bit harder to see if he was right or not.
She rolled her eyes at him. “Because, if you’re found out, William will be in immediate danger. Think of all the information he might have gathered. They’ll skewer him for certain. On the other hand, if you are correct in your assumption that William is guilty, he will no doubt have you served up for Bonaparte on a silver platter. Who knows what the French might discover if they put you under torture. Don’t you see? You’ll be compromising everything if you fail.”
“First of all, failure is not an option and second of all I must tell you quite adamantly that I would never divulge any secrets under torture. That you would even make such an assumption—”
“Are you really such a fool, my lord, as to think for one minute that you would not talk if your nails were being pulled out and your limbs cut off,” Alexandra cried in exasperation as she interrupted him. “Why do men always presume themselves to be so invincible all the time?”
Michael stared at her in disbelief. He could not ignore what she was saying, regardless of how much he wished to deny her accusation. It was true that he had never fallen prey to an enemy, but he’d always believed that if he ever did, he would withstand anything for the sake of his country. Alexandra had just cast serious doubts on that and it shook him rather violently to acknowledge her point of view.
She sighed. “I’m sorry, my lord. I find that I am being quite rude of late. It’s not my place to question your sense of duty or your honor. Please understand that it’s this whole dratted business that has me so out of sorts. I’m quite worried about our potential for success, and I happen to care about . . .” She stopped herself instantly and there was suddenly a very perplexed look upon her face, as if she’d been about to say something that she knew she’d come to regret.
“What?” he asked.
“Hm?” Her eyes took on a look of complete incomprehension as if she was doing her very best to feign ignorance.
“What is it that you care about?” he asked in a low murmur.
“Oh . . . er . . . nothing really . . .” She made a sound much like a nervous chuckle before sticking her hands in her pockets and shrugging her shoulders dismissively.
Nothing indeed?
“It wouldn’t happen to be my welfare would it?” He moved a little closer and couldn’t help but smile when he spotted the telltale blush upon her cheeks.
She snorted. “Of course not . . . that would be preposterous, Michael.” Again she chuckled with apparent uneasiness. “I mean really . . .” She turned her head away as if something of far more interest had suddenly caught her attention.
Michael, however, stood as if nailed to the ground. That one simple sentence had given him a world of insight. Alexandra had not only used his Christian name but she had also made that small uneasy sound that women tended to make when they were shy or embarrassed about something. However, the Alex he knew was not the sort of woman to be shy or embarrassed about anything, which led him to deduce that she must have finally taken a liking to him. The thought pleased him to no end. In truth, it surprised him just how much it pleased him, but there it was. It simply did.