Page 88 of A Stolen Heart

“Probably,” the Countess replied. “In the ton, everything is food for scandal. But the real problem, of course, is the fact that you and Sebastian spent two days and a night together, unchaperoned.”

“It was scarcely something we could avoid,” Alexandra protested.

“That doesn’t change the fact of it,” Lady Ursula said flatly. “I am afraid your reputation is in shreds, Miss Ward.” Her voice expressed extreme satisfaction at the idea.

“Don’t be absurd, Ursula,” Sebastian told her, his voice hard. “Miss Ward and I will be married, of course.”

Alexandra’s jaw dropped, and she turned to Sebastian. Her stomach felt as if it had suddenly been tied into a thousand knots. “I beg your pardon?”

Sebastian gritted his teeth. Damn Ursula for bringing the subject up, anyway! He had been unable to say a word to Alexandra about marrying him on the ride home, for they never had a moment alone for private conversation. He cursed himself for not having broached the subject early this morning. Now, because of Ursula’s heavy-handed glee at the scandal they were in, he had had to blurt it in front of everyone, without even asking Alexandra first.

“I said that we will be married,” he replied, meeting Alexandra’s gaze.

“I think you are getting a little ahead of yourself, Lord Thorpe,” Alexandra told him acidly. “There is such a thing as asking for a woman’s hand before one declares that one is marrying her. Or is that not a practice followed in England?”

“Of course it is. But, dammit, I haven’t had a moment alone to talk to you about it. There was always someone there—that portly woman going to visit her daughter, or that couple with the screaming baby, or—”

“You needn’t enumerate them. I am quite aware of our fellow passengers. That hardly excuses your taking it upon yourself to say that we are going to be married.”

“But, Alexandra, dear, you must be,” the Countess put in, her forehead creasing. “Ursula is right. So is Sebastian. You have to marry, or your name will be ruined.”

“As I don’t even live here, I hardly see how that matters.”

“Think of poor Sebastian. He will be considered a cad and a roué if he doesn’t wed you after this.”

Alexandra shot Sebastian a flashing look. “I doubt it will ruin him. I’m not marrying him.”

She rose to her feet, her arms rigid at her sides. Sebastian stood so abruptly he almost turned over his chair. He glared at Alexandra, his jaw set in as mulish an expression as hers. “Devil take it! You will marry me, my girl.”

Alexandra faced him, her eyes blazing. She felt as if her heart was breaking. How could he tell her she was going to marry him, and only because of a stupid scandal? She was so furious that she had to clench her fists to keep her hands from trembling.

“I wouldn’t marry you if it was the only thing that would save me from hanging!”

Alexandra whirled and strode out of the room, leaving the others staring after her in consternation.

ALEXANDRA INDULGED IN A GOOD bout of tears that night and woke the next morning puffy-eyed and headachy. She thought dispiritedly that she had probably thrown her life away with both hands the night before. But what else could she do with Sebastian asking her to marry him for all the wrong reasons? No matter how much she wanted to be with him, she knew that it would be hellish, not heavenly, knowing all the time that he did not love her as she loved him, that he had married her only because it was the gentlemanly thing to do. Moreover, she thought, just to drive her spirits a little lower, he probably would not have done that if she had been just Alexandra Ward, not someone the Countess of Exmoor thought was her granddaughter.

She rang for the maid and dressed listlessly, then went down the hall to check on her mother. Willa Everhart was sitting beside Rhea, embroidering, and she looked up at Alexandra’s entrance and smiled.

“Good day, Miss Ward.”

“Good morning. But you must call me Alexandra.”

Willa smiled again. “All right. Alexandra. And I am Willa.”

“How has she been?” Alexandra walked to the bed and stood looking at her mother, who lay motionless, her eyes closed. Except for the slight rise and fall of her chest beneath the sheet, she might have been dead. A shiver ran through Alexandra at the thought.

“Physically, she is doing as well as can be expected,” Willa said. “The maid and I prop her up and manage to spoon some gruel down her a few times every day. We get her to take a little water the same way. But she is losing weight, of course.”

“Doubtless.” Alexandra leaned against the post of the bed and asked wistfully, “Do you think that she will ever awaken? Will she live like this the rest of her life?”

“I don’t know. The doctor doesn’t seem to, either. He will only say he’s known of some that have awakened and resumed normal lives after days, even weeks and years. But then he’s known those who have died, too. He says to keep turning her to keep away the bedsores and try to feed her and just wait for what happens.”

“Not a very cheerful prognosis, is it?” Alexandra pulled up a chair beside Willa and sat down. “I don’t know if I have thanked you for coming here to help. I am sure I haven’t thanked you enough.”

Color rose in Willa’s pale face. “There’s no need to thank me. I am happy to do it. It pleases the Countess, and that makes almost anything worthwhile.”

“You are very fond of the Countess, aren’t you?”