Surrender to Love

By the time Mr. Jarvis’s carriage, which he had kindly loaned her, had arrived in front of her own house, Alexa had a coldly determined set to her jaw and a composed facade that enabled her to sweep by those of her servants who were about to greet her. Her air of lofty assurance was considerably helped by the fact that Solange had relented sufficiently to provide her with a gown and a bonnet more suitable for the daytime than the evening finery she’d gone out in last night, even if the gown was plain enough to belong to a governess (as it probably had, Alexa thought a trifle grimly) and the bonnet a little too frivolous to match.

“My Lady! We did not know—especially when Lord Deering came by so late to look for you....”

“Oh, dear! You did not get my message then? How tiresome! But you did hear by this morning at least, I trust. Is Bridget upstairs? Good. I need my bath and a short rest before I have to begin dressing for the ball this evening. Were there any callers this morning?”

Mr. Bowles’s voice held obvious disapproval as he said after clearing his throat significantly: “Lord Deering called twice, m’lady, and left a letter that is upstairs, I believe. The Marquess of Newbury also left a note. Hmm! And Lord Embry called to inquire, he said, if you had returned yet.”

“Did he indeed?” At the foot of the staircase, Alexa turned to say with cold, angry emphasis, “Please be sure to instruct all the servants, Mr. Bowles, that in future I am not at home to Embry. And if there are any notes or cards from him, they are not to be accepted!”

Chapter 42

“You look magnificent!” Lord Deering said fervently as Alexa descended the curving stairway. And even she, studying herself critically in the mirror a few moments before, could see no signs of the previous night’s lack of sleep or the carefully applied cosmetics she had used to make her look just as she did now. Just enough color in her lips and cheeks to look natural; and the dark smudges under her eyes seemed to have vanished, while her eyes themselves looked almost unnaturally large and brilliant. “Lovely!” Lord Charles repeated softly, as she paused with studied coquettishness on the bottom step to pose for him. Her mirror had already told her that she looked her best tonight, and her mirror at least was always uncompromisingly honest with her. The finest black lace trimmed with velvet over silver and gold brocade—full, flounced skirt spreading out from a tight basque bodice that came to a point at the waist. Her shoulders were bare, the low neckline of her gown trimmed with black and silver lace. And she wore diamonds about her throat, sparkling on each wrist, and in a magnificent tiara set in her bronze gold hair. Ah yes, she did look well today, and she looked rich, as well.

“How kind of you to offer to escort me this evening,” Alexa said in a low and purposefully meaningful voice as she looked up into his face for an instant before veiling her eyes behind long lashes. “I cannot tell you how grateful I was for your wonderfully understanding letter, without which... Oh, but I find now that I cannot put into words how lucky I am to have such a steadfast friend and ally.”

“Oh, Alexa—Lady Travers—” Charles seized both of her hands spontaneously in his and held them tightly while he continued in the same low, vibrant voice, “Surely you know—you must know by now—what my true feelings are for you? What they have always been? I could only wish...” And then with an apologetic, self-deprecating laugh he released her hands to shake his head ruefully. “You have a way of making me forget my surroundings, I’m afraid. And even your stern-looking butler and at least three footmen who are standing behind us in the hall. What can I say?”

She knew by now of course what he wanted to say, and it meant that her first step forward was accomplished, or soon would be. And the next would be Newbury, whom she still could not bear to think of as her father, and after that... Ah yes, of course. Belle-Mere. But this time it must be done in a different way. A more open, and yet more diffident manner. But first there was Charles, and fortunately he was more than eager to help her scheme, as he glanced rather doubtfully at his watch. “Oh dear! I suppose I was so impatient to get here that I did not stop to think of time. It is still only eight-thirty and they are not receiving yet, but if you don’t mind that I would be happy to think you might join the family in the small drawing room upstairs? I wish you would.”

Alexa demurred, avowing that it would not be proper or convenient at all, and invited him to join her for a glass of sherry in her library, where he could inspect some of her latest purchases. And just as she had expected, no sooner had Bowles served them the sherry and departed than Lord Deering begged her to consent to marrying him.

“I...oh dear, Lord Deering...Charles...” As she hung her head and pretended to stammer, Alexa could not help thinking cynically how easy it was after all to be—what had her aunt said?—a clever whore, who pretended to promise everything without giving anything of herself. “I am overcome, you must know that I am. But how can I consent to your gallant offer after... now? If nothing had happened...if...but I cannot possibly consent to ruining your life and your position in society.”

“My life? My position? Alexa! Ah, dear God!” Lord Charles had sprung up to pace about the room quite feverishly before he returned to stand before her and beg her to look at him and to tell him what answer she would have given him had he had the chance to ask her this same question yesterday while they were at Cremorne.

“I... Oh, it’s impossible! What difference can it make now? I suppose I would have at least agreed to consider it. But—you know what happened. And I know your uncle knows, and—how should I know how many others? What happened was vile, disgusting. It was...only look!”

When she unfastened her diamond bracelets one by one and he saw the bruises encircling her wrists, she heard him suck in his breath. “My God! Alexa...!”

Looking down, she said in a whisper: “There are the same kind of bruises around my ankles too. And so now you see why it is impossible for me to take advantage of you. Oh please, Charles, do not ask me again, and let me try and forget it! I am forcing myself to go out tonight only because it will be worse if I don’t face everybody now. If I hide away then everyone will think I am guilty, and if I do not, that I’m brazen. But I’d rather be called brazen than guilty when I know I am innocent!”

“If I had known the kind of man he is and how thin the veneer of civilized behavior he affects when it suits him, I would... Perhaps I will call him out, the unspeakable blackguard! That he dared treat a lady in such a fashion! That he... Oh, my poor darling girl, how you must have suffered! He...he took your virginity, did he not? Oh, I know your marriage to your ”Uncle“ John was one in name only! What does that matter in comparison to...”

“Charles, you must, you must promise me not to do anything so silly as to call him out. There’d be a worse scandal; and besides, he boasted to me of how many men he’s killed in duels when he was in New Orleans! Please. If anything happened to you...”

“Then you must say you will marry me in order to protect me! Do you think I care for anything but you? Let me protect you!”

“Well?” the Dowager Marchioness of Newbury cried irritably when her daughter, Lavinia, almost burst into her private sitting room. “And now what is it, for God’s sake? Is it tragedy or comedy this time?”

“Mama, it’s Charles! Why he didn’t say anything before, to his own mother at least... But he’s just become engaged, he says, to a widow. And he said that you knew of his intentions and approved!”

“Lavvy,” the Dowager said contemptuously, “you’ve always been a silly creature! Of course I approve. The woman’s rich as Croesus, and quite young to boot. And remember that Charles needs money, Lavvy. The boy’s got extravagant tastes. So, is that all?”

“I...well, you might laugh, Mama, but a mother always knows when something is amiss. All this closeting together of Charles and this female, and Newbury of all people. I should have the right to know what is going on with my own son, shouldn’t I? And there’s Embry stalking about with such an ugly look on his face that I for one feel quite afraid to go near him. He’s quite ignoring poor Helen too, and it is beginning to look quite obvious, I’m afraid. Mama...”

When after a less than perfunctory knock her door was flung open again, the Dowager merely sighed this time and raised an elegant eyebrow. “My dear Nicholas!. It’s so obvious you didn’t learn your manners anywhere on this continent!” And then, waving an impatient hand at her daughter, she said, “Oh very well, Lavvy, I’ll be down to see to things myself since Iris obviously cannot manage— after Embry and I have the set-to I can see the dear boy is spoiling for.”

With commendable patience Nicholas waited until the door had closed before he said between his gritted teeth, “More of your Machiavellian plotting and planning, Belle-Mere? And how is it that I can suddenly find myself engaged to a very young lady that I have not had the honor to propose to? By God...!”

“I wish you would stop being so Spanish, Nicholas, and at least sit down, so that I do not have to crane my neck to look up at you. And if you need explanations...”

“Oh indeed! I am waiting most anxiously to hear them!”

Giving him an exaggeratedly patient look, the Dowager folded her hands together on her lap and said, “And since I am needed downstairs to se

ttle all kinds of crises, I shall try to be brief. In fact, dear boy, the announcement was made so suddenly for your sake.” Catching his angry, incredulous look, she shook her head at him warningly and continued, “Do wait and hear me out before you start stamping around in a pet. And do not blame me for keeping it quiet, because to tell the truth I did not hear until very late last night that poor Deering and this Lady Travers had become secretly engaged and planned to make the official announcement as soon as her period of mourning is over.” She looked at him severely. “You behaved quite outrageously last night, you know. But that is Charles’s business now, I suppose. And as for my poor Helen, you have, after all, appeared to be paying public court to the chit, so that it had become expected. So, if you’ve been foolishly reckless enough to tell any of your cronies that you expect to marry Lady Travers just before she announces that she happens to be engaged to Lord Deering... Oh dear, Nicholas! You are surely not so obtuse as to not realize the obvious? And as for Helen, for goodness’ sake surely even you can’t be cruel enough to embarrass her so? And not only Helen, but all the rest of the family as well. Carry it off for her sake at least for a month or two— until the season’s ended at least. And then she can appear to have broken it off—don’t you see?”

“No, I’m afraid I do not, Belle-Mere.” He had been listening to her with his face hard and closed, and now he rose abruptly in one, almost feral motion, to stand looking down at her again while he said in a dangerously quiet voice: “I warned you once that I do not intend to let myself be manipulated—not by you or by anyone else. And although I might agree for Helen’s sake to let others think we are an engaged couple, I intend to tell Helen herself the truth, just so that there can be no future misunderstandings. I hope I make myself clear? And as for Alexa and Charles, you know he’s after the money, don’t you? Is that another of your cleverly arranged matches, Belle-Mere? Did someone in your confidence happen to tell her that my engagement to Helen was to be announced tonight?”