Alexandra

Chapter Sixteen

"Did you bring the new pump?"

Tristan smiled. "Good morning to you, too."

"I'm sorry." Griffin had the good grace to look chagrined. "I'm a mite distracted these days." He ushered Tristan inside, letting Boniface shut the door behind them. "I appreciate your response," he said, then waited a beat before repeating, "So, did you bring the pump?"

"I haven't started building it yet," Tristan said, following his friend up the staircase.

Griffin glanced openmouthed over his shoulder. "I sent the note to you a full week ago."

"As I wasn't at Hawkridge, I received it only yesterday. I do have other properties." As they approached the first floor, something drew Tristan's gaze over the marble handrail.

Alexandra, watching from the picture gallery.

Suddenly he remembered why he shouldn't have come back here.

In the month since he'd last seen her, she had often visited his dreams. But these weren't the sort of dreams he'd occasionally struggled with in his adolescence; far from lustful, these dreams were oddly...sweet. He and Alexandra would dance together, pressed close. Or he'd release the pins from her mass of curls and comb his fingers through her hair. He had kissed her again, but only once, on her soft cheek. Mostly, they just talked and laughed together, but still it felt more intimate than anything. He'd no idea what to make of it.

And now, here in the flesh, she was even more lovely than the girl haunting his dreams.

And every bit as unattainable, he reminded himself.

Her sisters were with her. "Good morning, ladies," he called from the landing.

"Good morning," they replied in chorus, looking shocked to see him.

Griffin wasn't allowing time for pleasantries. "Come on up to the study."

Demonstrating a deplorable lack of resolve, Tristan's gaze lingered on Alexandra before he resumed his climb. "Didn't you tell them I was expected?"

"I hadn't the foggiest idea when you'd arrive," Griffin hedged. "Particularly when I failed to hear from you. I figured it would take you at least a week to build the pump—"

"Quite a bit longer to do it from home. The foundry here has the molds from my newest design." In the study, Tristan claimed his favorite chair. "Were your sisters unaware you contacted me?" he pressed.

"The ball is only four days from now," Griffin said in an apparent non sequitur.

But Tristan understood. "Ah," he murmured. Obviously Griffin was hoping that, in only four days, Alexandra would be betrothed and therefore safe.

Safe from him.

Well, she was safe from him already. He'd spent a month apart from her and had survived just fine. Perhaps he'd dreamed of her sometimes, but otherwise his life was tranquil and productive, and he had no intention of upsetting hers by fostering anything more than friendship.

He accepted the glass of brandy Griffin offered. "I'm not here to seduce your sister."

Griffin busied himself pouring another glass. "No. You're here, once again, to help me solve a problem." He sat and met Tristan's gaze. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Tristan took a sip. "Why do you need a second pump? Your note was more than vague as to your requirements. Ram water pumps are known to be very reliable, but if the first one malfunctioned, most likely I can repair it. And instruct you—or one of your men—so you can fix it yourself next time. I should have demonstrated the workings before I assembled it. I won't make that error again."