The Season

Ella replied with amusement, "I'm not certain they wouldn't follow, but your plan seems as good as any."

Freddie leaned toward Ella. "I wouldn't be concerned. Not one of them appears to be committed to proper wooing — if they were worth their salt, I would have had to throw elbows to get so close to the four of you."

"Intriguing," spoke Alex. "So now that you have laid claim to us — someone will have to throw elbows to intercede?"

Freddie turned a wickedly handsome smile on her. "Lady Alexandra, I'm not the kind of man to lay claim to four women at once — I'm merely offering my protection to all of you. For now" — he paused, pretending to consider a vital question — "I shall simply fill your dance cards."

He proceeded to do just that, ending with Alex. As he looked down at the little card dangling from her wrist, he shook his head in mock disappointment.

"Why, Alexandra Stafford — it can't be possible you have the next waltz free. Unless ... you were saving it for a dashing suitor?"

"Indeed, my lord, I was." Alex cocked her head and considered him. "But I suppose you’ll do."

And, with that, he whisked her into his arms and onto the dance floor. He didn't waste any time before flirting wickedly. "You're the most beautiful woman in the room, Alex."

She smiled up at him. "And you are the greatest bounder in the room, Freddie."

"True. Yet you can't help but enjoy my company. Admit it."

"I never said I didn't enjoy it... but I'm told it's risky. Ella and Vivi think you've got me in your sights."

"And if they were right?" His voice was deeper than usual, and she imagined this was exactly the tone he'd practiced to send young women into fits.

She scoffed. "Save it, Stanhope. If you thought even for a minute that I might possibly fall for you, you'd run. Far. And fast."

"Too true, my brilliant, perceptive friend. Too true."

"Someday, Freddie ... someday, some young lady is going to set you on your ear. And you won't be able to resist her."

"Never."

"And, with such pompous self-confidence, it's a certainty."

"I shall shamelessly flirt with you and drive her away."

"This isn't shameless flirting already?"

"Not at all ! I'm just getting started." They swirled under the twinkling lights as Alex's laughter drifted across the dance floor and he continued casually, "But, my lady, you seem to have an altogether different admirer who can't take his eyes off you. And, at this particular moment, he doesn't appear at all pleased that you are enjoying yourself in my arms." She started to look to see to whom he was referring, when he stopped her quickly. "Don't look, kitten.

Then he’ll know we're discussing him."

"Who?"

"You mean you don't know? You haven't noticed him watching you all evening? all season?"

"Freddie, WHO?"

"Blackmoor, of course."

"You're touched." Alex laughed, shaking her head. "He's not been watching me all season, and if he has been watching me tonight, it's only because he feels obligated to. He's my chaperone for the evening."

Freddie laughed shortly. "Really? Your chaperone! It seems to me that your family are the ones who are touched, Alex. They're practically feeding you to the lion."

"You don't know what you're talking about, Freddie. Blackmoor has no interest in me other than pseudobrotherly admiration."

"Oh? I've two sisters myself, if you’ll remember, Alex. And I've never looked at one of them quite the way he's looking at you right now."

It took all of Alex's strength not to look. "Which is how, precisely?"

"As though he doesn't know if he wants to kiss you or kill you."

She gasped, a blush coming to her cheeks. "Freddie!"

"Don't shoot the messenger, sweet."

"You're sorely mistaken."

"Perhaps." The music came to a crescendo and they whirled to a halt, Freddie bowing low over her hand and lingering a touch longer than was entirely proper. He winked up at her and whispered, "Let's find out, shall we?" Then, louder and with a rakish grin,

"Shall we find the exit to the garden, my lady? I daresay we both could use some ... air."

"I don't think that will be at all necessary, Stanhope." The statement cut through the air like a knife, and Alex felt her stomach drop with the realization that Blackmoor was standing immediately behind her. She looked up at Freddie, wide-eyed, not quite knowing what to do.

He spoke with an air of bored dismissal. "Blackmoor, what a surprise. What is it you want?"

Blackmoor's tone brooked no refusal, but was surprisingly hushed, only loud enough for the three of them to hear. "I want you to stay away from Lady Alexandra, Stanhope. She is most definitely not in need of a walk in the gardens with the likes of you."

"I suppose you would be a better companion?" Freddie drawled. Alex could sense that this conversation was not going to end well but had a nagging suspicion that Freddie was quite enjoying himself.

"Most certainly. I'm practically her brother." Freddie gave a short laugh at this, which made Blackmoor even more angry. "More importantly," he continued, "I'm her escort this evening, and I say where she goes and who she goes with. And she is most certainly not going anywhere with you."

"I beg your pardon?" Alex spoke, keeping her voice hushed, but pulling herself up to her full height and stepping between the two men. Her face flushed with indignation as she leveled Blackmoor with a dark look. "What did you just say?" He looked down at her mutely as she pressed on. "I'm almost certain that you implied ... nay ... dictated ... that you have some kind of control over my behavior."

He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. "I think it best you say no more, my lord, lest you embarrass yourself further. Let me be clear. Last I was aware, you were neither my husband nor my father nor my king. Therefore, any control you may imagine you hold over me is just that — imaginary."

She continued, her anger making her voice waver, "If I want to take a walk in the gardens with Stanhope, or with anyone else for that matter, that is entirely my business. I will thank you to stay out of my affairs. Or need I remind you that it is not Stanhope whom I've had to be wary of on balconies recently?"

Her whispered question dropped between them, and Blackmoor's face turned to stone. She saw fury flash before he offered her a short bow and turned away, only to be swallowed up almost immediately by the crush of people who remained unaware of the scene that had just occurred.

Fists clenched in fury, Alex watched him go.

«Well ..." drawled Stanhope once he disappeared, "that was certainly more ill uminating than I had expected it would be."

"Oh, shut up, Freddie."

"My lips are sealed, kitten ... but may I make a small suggestion? Two, actually."

"As if I could stop you?"

"First, I wouldn't necessarily mention that part about balconies so freely and in such close company. It's not exactly a flattering picture of Blackmoor ... and could be damaging to your reputation."

"Thank you, Freddie." Her voice was laced with sarcasm. "I hadn't realized that."

"Sarcasm doesn't become you, sweet." He pressed on. "Second ... I'd imagine Blackmoor will be rather ... put out ... that you brought that up in front of me."

"More than put out," she replied. "Livid."

"A choice word."

"So what's your second suggestion?"

"Tread lightly."

"That's it? That's the best advice you can give me?"

"All right, tread very lightly."

thirteen

Alex did walk in the gardens that evening — alone.

She snuck out not long after the debacle with Blackmoor, shaking with fury. She was furious with him for being so boorish, furious with herself for being so quick to rise, and furious with Freddie for seeming to understand everything that was happening — when she didn't even know what was happening at any given moment.

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She trudged up the garden path, feeling more miserable by the moment as she moved farther from the house.

She really shouldn't have mentioned the balcony in front of Stanhope. Not that she was worried that he would tell anyone — despite Blackmoor's opinion of him, Alex knew Freddie had a strong sense of right and it simply wouldn't cross his mind to do or say anything that would impugn her honor.

No, she shouldn't have said anything about the balcony because she should have known it would insult and offend Blackmoor. He hated to be caught unawares, prided himself on being able to predict the trajectory of a conversation, and she'd ambushed him — not only because she'd said it in front of Stanhope, but because she'd said it at all — breaking their clear unspoken agreement never to discuss it again.

Perhaps that was what bothered her so much ... the fact that he was thoroughly prepared to forever ignore the fact that for one fleeting moment, they might have been more than friends. Not that she wanted that. Or did she? No! Certainly not. And even if she did, she most certainly did not want to marry, which meant she couldn't very well go kissing him on balconies. Or anywhere else for that matter.

Of course, she did wish they'd kissed that one time. She was very curious about this part of the whole dilemma. And now it was all she thought about when she thought about him. She sighed. "Oh, Alexandra. How have you become such a complete ninny?"

The whispered question hung in the air — no answer springing immediately to mind. She sighed again heavily and took a seat on one of the marble benches that were distributed about the Salisbury gardens. She pulled her slippered feet up beneath her gown, wrapping her arms about her knees.

She could hear the faint sounds of the ball in the distance, laughter and chatter intermingled with the notes of a country dance, and she wondered if Vivi and Ella were dancing, and with whom. The quiet sounds were matched by the dim light spilling across the gardens and all owing her to just barely see in the darkness. She rested her chin on her knees and closed her eyes, wondering how long she would be able to stay outside the ball before someone realized she was missing and came looking for her. She was going to have to make her way back at some point and seek out someone to escort her home — if she knew one thing, she knew she would not ask Blackmoor to perform the task.

She heard a rustle behind her and she stood nervously, knowing that she could find herself in rather a lot of trouble in the event she were discovered by a single gentleman. She peered into the darkness beyond as a female figure appeared, rushing up the garden path and muttering to herself. Squinting, Alex recognized Ella — clearly wrapped up in her own thoughts and not looking where she was going.

"What are you doing out here all alone?" Alex didn't hide the surprise in her tone as she stepped into her friend's path.

The question caught Ella unaware and, with an extraordinarily loud shriek, she jumped into the air, terrified. The sight was so comical that Alex doubled over with welcome laughter.

When she straightened again, Ella was holding her hand to her chest, waiting for her heart to stop racing. She said sternly, "That wasn't as amusing as you seem to think."

Alex smirked at her friend. "That's because you were on the wrong end of the hilarity. You are incredibly well met, Ella."

"What are you doing out here?" Ella had recovered and was back to her inquisitive self.

"I asked you that first, if you’ll recall ."

"Vaguely. That happened just as you took a dozen years off my life?"

"Just then, yes."

"I rather think that you should tell me first. Considering you terrified me and then laughed at me."

"It's a ridiculous and somewhat lengthy story that makes me appear alternately unpleasant and irrational. I'd rather not discuss it at this particular moment."

Ella cocked her head. "That sounds like a very interesting story. I will allow you to postpone sharing it only because I have a very interesting story of my own."

"And this is why I adore you. Not only do you spare me embarrassment, you do it in the most entertaining of ways."

" 'Tis true.

Alex resumed her seat on the bench and patted the space next to her. "Join me, friend. I welcome your allegedly interesting story."

Ella seated herself beside Alex and began, "I was avoiding the next dance on my card —"

"With whom?"

"Lord Grabeham."

"Aah ... Grabhands." Alex nodded with an air of understanding.

"Quite." Ella pressed on, "So I escaped to the balcony, where I saw Baron Montgrave slipping off into the garden —"

"Oh, Ella. Your obsession really is becoming rather worrisome."

"It's not an obsession! Which you would understand if you would let me finish a sentence."

"If that isn't the pot calling the kettle black, I don't know what is, but" — Alex offered an exaggerated magnanimous gesture — "please, go on."

Ella tipped her head. "Thank you. Where was I?"

"While I'm not entirely sure, I think you might have been traipsing off into the darkness with a man who is thrice your age."

"Shh! First, there was no traipsing involved. I followed him. At a discreet distance."

"I beg your pardon?!"

"And second, keep your voice down! If someone overheard, it could ruin me!"

"All right!" Alex whispered. "What would possess you to follow him —"

"At a discreet distance," Ella cut in.

"Fine, at a discreet distance — into a deserted garden?"

«Well, it doesn't seem that it was entirely deserted," Ella pointed out, "but we will come to that particular truth later, I assure you. I don't know why I did it

... curiosity, boredom, whatever. It is really irrelevant now, really. The point is, I did."

"And?"

"And ... I think ..." Ella's voice lowered to a whisper that Alex could barely hear. "I think I overheard something I shouldn't have."

"Like what?" The two had their heads bowed so closely together that they were almost touching.

"I'm not entirely sure. The baron met with another gentleman in the garden, but I couldn't make out the other person or the conversation very clearly —they were speaking very quietly, and I had just the smallest inkling that they were discussing something ..."

Alex waited as Ella paused for drama. Ella adored dramatic emphasis.

"Nefarious."

Ella's whisper barely made any sound at all , and Alex couldn't help the half smile that played at the corner of her mouth. "Nefarious?"

Ella nodded once, curtly. "Yes. Nefarious."

"All right, Ella." Alex's tone was designed to humor her friend as she sat back on the bench. "What 'nefarious' thing do you think you overheard?"

"Again, I can't be certain of that part of it," Ella was quick to respond, "but there are a few things I am certain of." She began ticking off her fingers as she spoke. "First, he was most definitely meeting someone at a time that had been predetermined in a place that had been prearranged. He went straight to the spot without dawdling."

"All right, but that means little, you understand."

Ignoring Alex, she pressed on. "Second, the person he met was not dressed in formal attire. I had the distinct impression that the other man was not a guest of the Salisburys. And.., they greeted each other in French!"

"That is odd, considering the baron is French," Alex said drily.

Ella gave her a quelling look. "Third, the conversation was laced with obscurity. They were discussing 'the problem,' and 'the situation.' At one point, the other gentleman said something about 'the situation being resolved this evening without delay.'"

Alex opened her mouth to speak, only to be stopped by Ella's raised hand and dramatic flourish. "And ... if all of that weren't enough ... I could swear I heard the baron refer to un voleur."

"A thief? Are you certain?"

"Not entirely ... but that could have been it! Who speaks i

n such a manner? Spies, if you ask me."

Alex laughed aloud before saying, "Few people speak that way, I’ll grant you. But we still have little indication that the baron is anything more than a kind, if slightly eccentric, old man. We certainly have no indication that he is a spy, for goodness sake. Vivi's father and Blackmoor's uncle both know him and find him to be a welcome addition to their circles, so I see no reason to surmise that he's a villain of the first water. Would you like to hear my theory on the matter?"

"Most certainly," Ella replied eagerly.

"You've been thinking about your novel too much ... and your imagination has become overactive." This was said with a grin.

"That may be the case," Ella agreed in a tone that suggested she'd not thought of that possibility.

"May be? You think that sweet old man is out to topple the Crown."

"Quite." Ella cleared her throat. "But it was an odd occurrence."

"Certainly. But I highly doubt it was an issue of national security. How did it end?"

"Calmly. They shook hands and parted ways. I waited five minutes or so and made my way back — and found you!" Her tone turned excited and curious.

"What are you doing out here, Alexandra Stafford?"

"Not terribly much," Alex spoke casually. "Taking in the evening air, pondering life's mysteries, selling state secrets to the French ..."

Ella chuckled. "A common occurrence this evening, it seems." She paused for a moment, waiting for Alex to speak. When she didn't, Ella spoke again.

"Are you going to tell me?"

"I'd rather hoped not to."

Ella nodded thoughtfully. "Are you all right?"

"Yes. Just nursing a slight case of embarrassment and irritation."

"Ah. So you shall be fine."

"Indeed."

The two sat in companionable silence borne of years of friendship, each all owing the other's presence to calm her. Alex took a deep breath and looked up at the starlit sky, wondering if she and Ella would be missed if they stayed out here for the rest of the evening.

Sadly, they would be. Not looking away from the sky, Alex spoke. "We should make our way back."