A Most Unconventional Courtship

‘You will marry me!’ he thundered, frustrated beyond reason. She stared back out of those magical eyes and he realised that she was trembling, just a little, and the fullness of her lower lips was caught hard by her teeth and the glitter in her eyes was not anger, but unshed tears. He was bullying her and yet she was standing up to him. He would never break her will—and he knew now he did not want to.

‘Alessa.’It was a groan more than a word, and he took her face between gentle palms and kissed her, quite chastely on the lips. There had been quite enough drama.

He is going to kiss me, at last, he is going to show me what he feels. Alessa put up her hands to Chance’s chest, ready to brace herself against the onslaught of those wonderful kisses, the proof of his passion, his love, his need for her. She wanted to sink into them, yield to them, surrender to him.

Then he kissed her like a brother and stepped back. Alessa took a deep breath and pushed down the waves of heat that had risen through her body at the mere anticipation of his embrace.

‘I am overwhelmed by your ardour my lord,’ she said frigidly. ‘I do not want to discuss this matter ever again—I do hope I have finally made myself plain?’

‘Perfectly, madam.’ The pulse at his throat was throbbing, she could see it, despite the immaculate neckcloth, but he was controlling his anger and, presumably, the feelings of chagrin at being rejected. He would be pleased enough, when he had time to reflect upon it.

Alessa dropped a precise curtsy and swept off the terrace. She was so blinded by emotion that she did not realise where she was until the three girls were clustered round her. ‘Well?’ Maria demanded. ‘When is it to be? Do you think the Earl would mind if we had a double wedding? That would be so romantic.’

‘Frances and I could be bridesmaids,’ Helena chimed in. ‘What did he say when he asked you? Did he go down on one knee?’

‘I am not marrying Lord Blakeney. He only asked me out of propriety—my aunt is insisting upon it. He is so afraid of appearing unconventional that he won’t even agree to us marrying here. My lord expects me to trail meekly back to England and prove myself acceptable and then he will deign to do the right thing,’ she said bitterly.

‘The beast,’ Frances said, tears of sympathy welling in her big green eyes. ‘But you will come back to England with us?’ Alessa nodded. ‘Then we will find you a nice Englishman. A romantic, dashing, unconventional one, you wait and see.’

The next week passed in a sort of delirium. Alessa supposed she appeared normal. The children seemed to notice nothing ami

ss, she was able to take part in meals and excursions and stilted conversations with her aunt about travel plans and at the same time everyone looked as though she were seeing them through glass—and their voices echoed a long way off.

Chance kept well clear of her except for the most formal of encounters and the girls conspired to protect her by swooping down with a poem to discuss, or a piece of gossip to exchange, whenever it seemed likely he would stray near to her. Maria kept tactfully silent about her own wedding plans if Alessa was within earshot.

The news came that the Plymouth Sound had been retaken with no one seriously injured, but with all the pirates vanished, taken off by a black-sailed ship that had swooped down and vanished into the night before the Argos located them. Alessa, still cherishing a reluctant liking for the Count, felt guilty but glad. Despite the fact that the danger remained, the Admiral assured Sir Thomas that it would be safe for the ladies to set sail again next week when a small convoy, accompanied by a frigate, would make the voyage to Venice and the Adriatic ports.

Alessa told herself that she was happy, although she wished Chance was not sailing with them. Being constantly in his company was an agony she had expected time to dull, but which seemed to renew itself afresh every morning. He seemed quite impervious to either heartache or regret.

Her appetite had dwindled to nothing, she noticed at breakfast the day after the news came about the Plymouth Sound. That would never do; she would make herself ill and would not be able to look after the children. Alessa gave herself a mental shake and made herself eat another sweet roll with her coffee.

Helena was full of a new plan. ‘It is such a pity there isn’t time to arrange a party before everyone leaves for Venice,’ she announced. ‘So I think we should have a picnic, with all the trimmings.’

‘That sounds very pleasant,’ her mother approved. ‘But we should not go too far, just an easy drive. Lady Blackstone will not wish to undertake anything to strenuous just before they depart, I am sure.’

‘The beach at Anemomylos is nice,’ Maria suggested. ‘It is only about two miles south of the town,’ she explained. ‘And the views are very pretty.’

Alessa had to agree with Maria when she saw the place. It was a delightful spot, a long sandy beach with low cliffs behind and a sweeping view over the narrow strait to the mountains beyond. She exerted herself to be bright and cheerful, both out of courtesy to her hostess and because the children had been allowed to come, along with their nursemaid.

‘Isn’t his lordship here?’ Demetri demanded as the small convoy of carriages came to a halt and servants began to carry rugs, hampers and cloths down to the beach.

‘Apparently not,’ Alessa said lightly. ‘I expect he has correspondence to catch up with. I think Mr Harrison might play catch with you if you ask nicely.’ The children scampered off and Alessa took her aunt’s arm as they walked down to the beach. She had made a point of not looking to see whether Chance was with them, but she had felt his absence like a missing tooth.

The ladies were all settled at last, under the shade of an umbrella pine. ‘How enchanting the view is,’ Lady Trevick exclaimed. ‘I really think the cliffs here would make a perfect location for a summer villa. I must suggest it to Sir Thomas. Paleokastritsa is a delightful resort, but an official summer residence near the town would be useful for entertaining.’

‘Just think…’ Frances sighed ‘…over there the Count is still at large, plotting his dastardly deeds.’

‘Dastardly deeds indeed,’ her mother said disapprovingly. ‘Have you been reading novels, my girl?’

‘Only a few, Mama,’ Frances admitted. ‘They are very educational—all about foreign parts.’

‘You are travelling in foreign parts,’ her mother retorted repressively. ‘You do not need to read frivolous nonsense about them.’

‘No, Mama. Oh, look, isn’t that a pretty little sailing boat! It looks just like the one the Count of Kurateni had.’

They all shaded their eyes to stare at the skiff, flirting over the waves northward. There was one man at the tiller, a second in the body of the boat. As they watched, the steersman brought the boat round, the sail flapped and it lost way. The other sailor began to haul in a rowing boat that was being towed astern.

‘Fishing,’ Mr Harrison observed, coming to drop down besides Maria. ‘Phew, that lad has quite winded me! They’ll be letting a net out between the two boats and hauling it round. It seems to be a good way of two men managing a large net.’