Forever My Love(21)

He looks like a guilty little boy, Mira thought, and she smiled, feeling a reluctant twinge of fondness for him. She knew that he had not meant to cause her so much distress. The William Sackville she had come to know would never voluntarily hurt a soul. If not for him she would have died of fever and chills that Sep­tember two years ago. She would never forget his kindness to her.

"I must admit," she said carefully, "I was rather taken aback by the whole thing."

"I could not see any way to end the situation grace­fully," Sackville said in a rush. "And then I thought: Damn your ears, old boy, she plays well enough.

What the deuce—let her at it! And you did a capital job, Mira—a wonderful job!"

"I would rather consign the whole thing to the past," she replied. "And, my lord… I would rather not have to do something like that again."

"Of course, of course!" Relieved, Sackville pulled out a handkerchief and patted his damp brow. "So glad you're being sensible about this—can't stand to have a woman peeved with me, you know."

"I know," she said, giving him a small smile. She turned to her gilded dressing table and pulled out a knotted cloth. "As long as you're up here, I found another mandrake root for you. Just take a little at a time—"

"I know the dosage by now," he said, taking the cloth eagerly and stuffing it in his pocket. "I think it's helping, truly I do."

"I hope it does," she replied, tilting her head and regarding him quizzically.

"You've never told anyone about this, have you?" he demanded, his blue eyes squinting anxiously. He asked the same question every time she found another root for him.

In a flashing second Mira remembered her slip in front of Alec Falkner—but he wouldn't remember, would he? "No… our secret is safe, my lord."

"Walter," Alec inquired absently, drumming his fin­gers on the side of the porcelain tub, "do you know anything about herbs or plants?" Alec's hair was as wet and shining as the coat of a sleek seal, drops of water from the bath clinging to his eyelashes, his tanned face wearing a mild frown.

Walter, his faithful valet for the past five years, paused in the midst of straightening up Alec's room. He was the ultimate gentleman's gentleman—hardwork­ing, well-mannered, discreet, a well-hidden but dry sense of humor occasionally surfacing… and at forty-four years of age he was old enough to give advice when requested but young enough to survive the rig­ors of accompanying someone as restless and travel-oriented as Alec.

"Milord," Walter replied evenly, "as far as garden­ing goes, I don't know a clod of earth from a horse dropping."

"Dammit." Alec sighed, his expression brooding. "Get me a towel, will you?"

"However," Walter said, handing him a huge length of huckaback, a stout linen with a rough surface used for toweling, "I do have odd bits of information stored here and there—would you care to ask the question anyway?"

"Why not?" Alec wrapped the rectangle around his lean hips and reached for another towel as he stepped out of the tub. "What exactly is a mandrake root used for?"

Suddenly Walter began to choke, his round fuzz-topped head reddening. Usually he prided himself on the fact that he seldom laughed or even cracked a smile unless it was absolutely unavoidable. Alec scowled at Walter's uncharacteristic fit of snickering. Finally the valet regained control over himself, his slight form straightening as he settled back into his perfect posture.

"Has someone told you recently that you needed one?" he inquired blandly, his mouth twitching at the corners.

"No. It was a… reference I heard the other day… and I'd never heard much about it before." His expression darkened as he added sardonically, "Until now I had never suspected such vital knowledge had been omitted from my education."

"You would be the last man in England to hear about it, my lord, for the simple reason that you have no need of the effects of the mandrake root."

"Well, stop standing there with that prissy smirk on your face. Out with it, Walter!"

"It is usually given to a man for certain reasons, all pertaining to the… reproductive organs. It can en­hance fertility…"

Oh God, Alec thought, he wants her to have his child.

"…or, more frequently," Walter continued, "it is taken by a man in the hopes that it will cure impotence."

Not a muscle in Alec's face moved.

"Just… just to get things straight," he managed to ask after a few seconds, "we're talking about the com­monly understood sense of the word 'impotence'?"