The Bridegroom's Bargain. Sylvia Andrew

catkins and the bridal white of blackthorn. The banks and verges below were even more colourful with spikes of purple orchids surrounded by clumps of pale yellow primroses and the delicate wood anemones of spring. The river was full of activity as small animals and birds enjoyed the Easter sunshine and prepared to set up their families. Richard talked a lot of the old days, and, though she felt it was cowardly, Lexi was content to let him. Her own heart was full as she remembered how they had laughed years before at the antics of the otters, how she had wanted Richard to kiss her…

      ‘This is wonderful!’ he said, breathing in the fresh, sweet-scented air. ‘You’ve no idea how much I’ve longed for it. After all my travels, to come home to this…’ He turned to look at her. ‘And to you. How are you, Alexandra?’

      It was so unexpected that Lexi felt herself colouring. ‘I…I…I’m well,’ she stammered. ‘But you know that. Why do you ask?’

      ‘What about Transden? Is he well, too?’

      She looked at him in astonishment. ‘Transden? Mr Transden? I have no idea.’

      ‘Really?’ He sounded sceptical.

      ‘Well, of course I haven’t! Whatever made you think I should? I haven’t seen or heard of Mr Transden since last summer.’

      ‘Is that true?’

      ‘Of course it is! He was a delightful dancing partner, but nothing more. What is all this? Why are you so curious about him?’

      ‘Last year most of London thought you would marry him.’

      ‘I can’t help what people thought last year! But I assure you that I never had the slightest intention of marrying Mr Transden.’

      ‘Lady Wroxford—’ Richard began. He stopped and began again. ‘When I saw Lady Wroxford in London recently she implied he was…he was still interested in you. She even seemed to think he might eventually persuade you to change your mind.’

      Lexi could guess what Lady Wroxford had been up to. Her godmother had been seeing what a touch of jealousy might do. She said firmly, ‘My godmother can’t really think anything of the kind. She knows very well who—’ She stopped short. She had nearly betrayed herself. ‘She knows I have no interest in Mr Transden,’ she said firmly, then went on, ‘We shall stop talking nonsense and discuss something more important. I want to ask you about Johnny. There’s something wrong with him and I want to know what it is.’

      ‘What do you mean?’ he asked. His tone was guarded.

      ‘Don’t put me off. I’ve asked Johnny himself, but he won’t talk to me. I’m worried about him, and I was hoping you’d help. He’s been so…so short-tempered, especially this morning. Not only with me, but with my father and the servants as well.’

      ‘He probably had a hangover,’ said Richard easily. ‘We talked till late last night, and the wine flowed pretty freely. Don’t worry, Alexandra. He’ll come round.’

      ‘Will he?’ She was still doubtful. ‘I wonder… I’m sure there’s more to it than that.’

      ‘A lot of the work we do at the Horse Guards is devilish dull, and Johnny gets bored. You know what he’s like. He enjoys fighting in the open, where you can see your enemy, and the dangers are obvious. Chasing secret documents and looking after them is not the sort of activity he joined the army for.’

      ‘I can quite see that. But why are you and Johnny doing such work? I thought you were still on active service?’

      ‘We are! This is very active service, but it’s not the kind Johnny is used to. Napoleon’s spies would give their right arm to know some of the details in the Duke’s letters—where he needs the men, what sort of defences, all the rest.’ He added with a touch of impatience, ‘I sometimes think Boney’s spies are more interested in what Wellington needs than those fools in charge at the Horse Guards! And there’s always someone willing to sell information…’

      He stopped, and they walked for a moment on in silence. They came to a halt at the stile. Here she paused. ‘Tell me, Richard,’ she said abruptly. ‘Is Johnny drinking?’

      ‘Of course. We all do!’

      ‘Don’t be so evasive! You know what I mean. Is Johnny drinking too much?’

      Richard hesitated. ‘Perhaps. Certainly more than he used to. But don’t worry, Alexandra. He’s restless, but he’ll be himself again as soon as we rejoin the regiment. It can’t be long now—this break has come just in time. I doubt we’ll still be here in England after next month.’

      This was a shock. Lexi swallowed and said, ‘I suppose that means you’ll both be going into battle.’

      ‘It looks very likely. This time it will be against Napoleon himself, not just his seconds-in-command the way it was in Spain. It won’t be quite so easy. Wellington is up to it. If he gets enough men.’

      ‘And I expect you’ll both feel happier. But it’s…it’s hard for us. We can only sit at home and hope you don’t get yourselves killed!’ She tried to laugh, but it turned into a sob halfway through.

      He stopped in surprise and turned to face her. ‘Johnny and I will be all right, I promise. My dear girl, you mustn’t cry! Don’t, Alexandra! Please!’

      ‘I know I’m stupid,’ she replied, trying to wipe away the tears with her hand. ‘You and Johnny came back unharmed from Spain. It’s just…it’s just that Papa and I had hoped the wars were ended, and that Johnny would soon be at home for good. Papa is getting old and…and needs him.’ She scrubbed more vigorously as another tear rolled down her cheek.

      ‘Here, let me do that!’

      He took out an immaculate handkerchief and, taking her chin in his hand, wiped her cheek. He finished, but the hand stayed under her chin, and he gazed at her intently. ‘And what about me, Alexandra?’ he asked softly. ‘Do you need me?’

      She couldn’t stop herself. Looking at him with her heart in her eyes, she said simply, ‘More than my life.’

      He drew a sharp breath. His lips barely moving, he said softly, ‘Do you remember asking me once if I wanted to kiss you, here at this stile?’

      ‘You said you didn’t.’

      ‘I lied to you. I wanted to all right, but you were too young. I had to wait. And then I kissed you at Vauxhall, and you were so angry… The kiss was everything I had dreamed of, but the waiting afterwards was even harder. Alexandra, if you knew how much that first time here by the stile has haunted me, how I have tried to forget it… But I never have. And now… If you were to ask me again if I wish to kiss you, I’ll tell you the truth this time.’ He put an arm round her, and lifted her chin. Gazing deep into her eyes, he said softly, ‘Ask me again, Alexandra.’

      ‘Do you…do you want to kiss me, Richard?’

      He smiled and then began to kiss her, at first gently, as if she were something infinitely precious, then, feeling her response, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her eyes, her chin, her throat, seeking and finding the pulse beating wildly there. Then he took her into his arms and the kisses became more demanding. He seemed to envelop her, holding her so closely that she thought she could feel every bone and muscle of his body. Lexi’s own bones were melting with delight. She felt no shame. This was where she wanted to be, this was what she had waited for all her life, or so it seemed. She was impatient to be absorbed by him, become part of him, she was nothing without him…

      After a moment he took a deep breath and held her away. ‘I…I think that’s enough for the moment,’ he said somewhat unsteadily. ‘Dear God, Alexandra, you have such power over me. No one else can make me forget the world and everything else in it as you do.’

      ‘Richard?’ she whispered, unaware of the pleading note in her voice.

      ‘We mustn’t go any further,’ he said, roughly. He gave an incredulous