Alissa Baxter (19 page)

“I believe in honest dealing, Sir Jason, if that is what you mean,” Alexandra said coldly.

“A rather foolhardy practice, my dear, when you are dealing with an opponent like myself who does not believe in such a — er — noble practice.”

Lady Barrington turned to Sir Jason, at this moment, and stated her desire to ride on, sparing Alexandra the necessity of making a response to his last remark. She merely bade Sir Jason a formal goodbye, before riding on in silence beside the Duke. She had never encountered a man such as Sir Jason before and his barely concealed animosity towards her left her feeling vulnerable and exposed — aware, as she was, that if he had the opportunity to harm her in any way in the future, he would. The thought sent an icy shiver down her spine. She lacked the necessary armour to ward off Sir Jason’s poisonous arrows and she could only hope that he would tire of the game of baiting her, soon, and leave her alone.

The Duke, glancing across at his silent companion, said quietly, “Did Morecombe say anything to upset you, my dear? You appear a trifle out of sorts.”

Alexandra forced a smile to her lips. “Oh — he spoke to me in his usual barbed fashion. But, let us speak of something more interesting. I am really looking forward to Letty’s coming-out ball next week, your grace. Letty is very excited about it.”

“You have no need to inform me of that fact, Miss Grantham,” the Duke said dryly. “All that I have heard from my sister over the last few days is talk of her upcoming ball.” He paused, then said deliberately, “She speaks about it morning, noon, and night.”

“Then I shall not add to your agony by discussing it with you now, your grace.”

Alexandra smiled. She had learned at a young age which topics of conversation it was wise to avoid when one was speaking to members of the opposite sex, balls being one of them. She would not have brought up the subject now, but she had wished to turn the conversation quickly away from her unpleasant encounter with Sir Jason, and Letitia’s ball had been the first thing that had come to mind. She remembered very well occasions in the past when she had attempted to speak to her brother about matters of purely feminine interest. His eyes had assumed a peculiarly glazed look, and he had always turned the subject. She was, therefore, very familiar with the signs exhibited by a bored male. Letty, however, had obviously not yet learned to recognise them.

But, although the Duke could not enter into Letitia’s interests, Alexandra certainly could, and during the course of the next week, the two girls spent many happy hours together, discussing the upcoming ball, the lavish decorations of Stanford House set in order by Amelia Beaumont, and their respective toilettes.

Letitia’s coming-out ball turned out to be what Lady Beauchamp called “the social occasion of the year.” Alexandra, standing beside her grandmother on the evening of the ball, looked in wonderment at the magnificently decorated ballroom of Stanford House, her eyes eventually coming to rest on an enormous crystal chandelier which dominated the centre of the room. Prisms of light danced off the cut-glass structure, and were reflected in the mirrors lining the walls of the room, creating an effect of a magically lit up fairyland. Alexandra, gazing at the chandelier in fascination, was finally brought back to earth by her grandmother’s voice.

“Alexandra! Do attend to me. You seem to be miles away.”

“I’m sorry, Grandmama. I was admiring that beautiful chandelier. I have never seen anything quite like it.”

“Well, do not gawk, my dear! Only provincials show themselves to be impressed by anything. Now, about what I was saying. I forgot to mention to you that the Hadleys will soon be leaving Town and returning home. They did not succeed in obtaining vouchers for Almack’s.”

“Oh!” Alexandra said, startled. “How terrible for Emily and Jane! They must be so disappointed to have to leave London early. Mrs Hadley must be very upset as well.”

“I would say so,” Lady Beauchamp said dryly. “When she realised that the vouchers would not be forthcoming, Mrs Hadley paid a morning call on Sally Jersey. She positively harangued her! Lady Jersey was not amused, as you can imagine! She told me all about the unfortunate incident. Hello Letty,” Lady Beauchamp said now, as Letitia came up to them. “Are you enjoying your evening?”

Letitia, who had been released from her duties at Amelia’s side at the head of the stairs a short while before, smiled brightly. “Oh, yes, Lady Beauchamp! It is above anything. I am the belle of my very own ball!”

Lady Beauchamp smiled indulgently at the young girl and, after engaging her in conversation for a few minutes longer, turned aside to greet an acquaintance.

Grateful that Lady Beauchamp’s attention had been diverted, Letitia said quickly to Alexandra, “Oh Alex ! My evening would have been perfect if only George could have come tonight. However, it was impossible to invite him, of course. He is not considered a respectable person.” She frowned. “And yet, Lady Barrington, whom I despise, was issued an invitation! When I told Cousin Amelia that I had no desire to invite her to my ball, she told me that it would be the height of incivility for us to ignore her in such a fashion because her parents are such close friends of our family. She is a Marchioness, as well, and must not be slighted.” With a gloomy expression on her face, she continued, “Lady Barrington arrived half an hour ago. Fortunately, there are so many people here tonight, that it will not be considered strange if I do not speak to her. Oh, here is Robert!” Letitia said, her face brightening as she saw her brother approaching them. “He has already partnered me for the first waltz of the evening, Alex, so I can only suppose that he intends to ask you to dance.”

Letitia was correct in her supposition. The Duke came up to Alexandra and, after bowing over her hand, asked her to partner him in the upcoming waltz. Alexandra took his proffered arm and accompanied him onto the dance floor. They circled the room a few times in silence before the Duke spoke: “You really are not a kind friend to my sister, Miss Grantham, coming to her ball and outshining her like you have.”

Alexandra shook her head. “You do not do your sister justice, your grace. Brothers, in my experience, rarely do. Letty looks absolutely lovely tonight. I look merely — well — passable, I suppose.”

“You look far better than “passable”, Miss Grantham. Your dress is quite magnificent. I am generally purported to be an arbiter of fashion, so I do not speak empty words, you know.”

In truth, the Duke was correct in saying that Alexandra outshone his sister. Letitia certainly looked charming in her rose coloured satin gown which set her dusky curls and peaches and cream complexion off to advantage. But, her looks paled in comparison beside Alexandra who, attired in a striking green satin gown, with epaulettes of lace, ornamented down the front with white silk embroidery, looked breathtakingly lovely.

Smiling down at her, the Duke continued, “Do you not realise that you are the most beautiful girl in the room, Miss Grantham?”

Alexandra bit her lip. “Sir, you ask me a question that is very difficult to answer! If I answer in the affirmative, as you seem to expect me to do, I shall appear odiously conceited. If I disclaim, on the other hand, it will merely look as if I am coyly seeking further compliments. Therefore, I decline to answer your question at all, your grace!”

“You have made a very wise decision, my dear,” the Duke said gravely, a smile lurking in his eyes.

Alexandra chuckled. “I am glad that you understand the delicacy of the situation, my lord Duke.”

The last strains of the waltz sounded as she said these words, and the Duke escorted his partner back to her grandmother’s side. Lady Beauchamp looked shrewdly at him when he politely greeted her.

“I must inform you, Stanford,” she said, ignoring his greeting, “that I consider it very unsporting of you to have cut my godson out so completely! You mean to wed him to that sister of yours, do you not?”

The Duke raised his brows. “My dear Lady Beauchamp,” he said coolly. “I am not so highhanded that I would attempt to control Letty’s life to the extent of choosing a husband for her. And Charles knows his own mind, I’m sure. Now, if you would excuse me, ladies, I have to attend to my duties.” With a smile and a bow, he moved away.

“Scheming young devil,” Lady Beauchamp said, gazing after the Duke’s retreating back. “Oh well, my dear,” she continued, “Let us sit down somewhere. I am dead on my feet, such a squeeze as this is!”

Alexandra, following her grandmother through the crowded room, reflected that it was indeed a squeeze. No one, it seemed, who had received one of the elegantly engraved invitations to the ball at Stanford House, had declined to come. The Beaumonts, she suspected, were far too powerful a family to be ignored by the
ton
, and invitations to any event hosted by the Duke of Stanford were, in all probability, coveted more than gold by anyone aspiring to social heights.

In the crush of people, Alexandra inevitably lost sight of Lady Beauchamp in front of her. She was looking around in search of her, when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Thinking that her grandmother had come back to find her, Alexandra turned around with a smile on her face. The smile faded, however, when she saw who stood in front of her.

“There you are, Miss Grantham,” Lady Barrington said. “I have been meaning to have a word with you.”

“Good evening, Lady Barrington,” Alexandra said formally.

Lady Barrington acknowledged the greeting, before continuing, “I’m afraid that I am the bearer of some bad news, Miss Grantham. I feel it to be my duty, though, as one woman to another, to inform you about it.”

“Bad news, Lady Barrington?”

“Unfortunately, yes, my dear. When Sir Jason informed me of the wager, I was shocked. Quite shocked!”

Alexandra stiffened at the mention of her bête-noire. “What are you talking about, ma’am?”

Lady Barrington smiled sympathetically. “Sir Jason has informed me that the Duke of Stanford’s pursuit of you is merely the result of a wager that he and Stanford have entered into. A while back Sir Jason challenged the Duke, saying that you were such a high and mighty Miss that he doubted whether Stanford could manage to add you to his circle of admirers. So, if you believe his intentions to be serious, my dear, you are sadly mistaken. I thought it would be best to let you know this.”

Alexandra regarded the Marchioness with sceptical look on her face. “I was under the impression, Lady Barrington, that the Duke of Stanford and Sir Jason were not on good terms. I therefore find it difficult to believe what you have said.”

Lady Barrington shrugged her thin shoulders. “My dear child, my concern is only for you! I would not fabricate such a tale, I assure you. However, if you doubt my words, by all means ask Sir Jason to verify them. You will not like his answer, but it will be the truth, nonetheless.”

“Better than that, Lady Barrington, I shall challenge his grace with these accusations,” Alexandra said coolly. “Now if you will excuse me, ma’am, I have to find my grandmother.” Nodding her head, she made to move away.

Lady Barrington put a restraining hand on Alexandra’s elbow. “Just a moment, Miss Grantham. I advise you not to question his grace about what I have said. He will only deny the story.”

Alexandra looked at the other woman for a long moment. “I am surprised that you say that, your ladyship. I would never have said that the Duke of Stanford was a dishonest man.”

Lady Barrington shrugged her shoulders again. “One can never be sure with gentlemen, Miss Grantham. In my experience, men are very rarely honest in their dealings with women.”

“And yet you expect me to ask Sir Jason to verify your story?” Alexandra said gently. “As I have said before, Lady Barrington, I may be young, but I am in no way stupid. Good evening.”

Alexandra eventually found Lady Beauchamp in the crush of people. She kept silent, however, about the interview with Lady Barrington, finding it too distasteful to speak of. Lady Barrington’s malicious stories — and she was sure that they were stories — made her wonder at the nature of the woman. The Marchioness, Alexandra thought grimly, must mistake her for a fool if she believed that she would accept anything as truth from either her or Sir Jason’s lips. They had both made it clear that they disliked her intensely, and were intent on doing her harm. From now on she would have to watch her way carefully, she realised soberly. The London scene held many traps for unwary travellers and, to avoid them, one had to keep one’s eyes wide open.

The afternoon after Letitia’s ball, Alexandra and Letitia sat comfortably ensconced in the Morning Room of Beauchamp House, studying the sketches in that most fashionable of publications
La Belle Assemblée.
“What a lovely jaconet muslin, Alex!” Letitia exclaimed, pointing it out to Alexandra. “Worn with a Norwich shawl, it should look charmingly on you. You must ask your Grandmama to tell Madame Fanchon to make it up for you!”

Alexandra smiled rather ruefully, and shook her head. “You can have no idea, Letty, of the number of gowns that I now own. Morning dresses, afternoon dresses, court dresses, carriage dresses, ball dresses, walking dresses, riding habits — the list is endless! I do not think that I am in need of any more!”

“Hmmm,” Letitia said, looking speculatively at Alexandra, “You may well be in need of a wedding dress soon. With your bevy of admirers, you are sure to be the first débutante this Season to become betrothed.”

“I have no intention of becoming betrothed to anyone, Letty,” Alexandra said firmly.

“But, Alexandra — you have all of London at your feet! Is there no gentleman for whom you have developed a tendre?”

“No, no one at all. I am perfectly content to remain unwed. I would, more than anything, dislike to lose my freedom. I value my independence far too much to give it up.”

“Once you fall in love, Alex, all that will change, I can assure you. My greatest desire at present is to enter the married state. George and I...” Letitia stopped abruptly, and stared down at her clasped hands. Raising her eyes, she said in a desperate little voice, “You can have no idea, Alex, what it is like to be
persecuted
! I asked Robert last night to reconsider his inflexible stance about George. However, because George is poor, I suppose, he deems him unsuitable material for a husband. He said that under no circumstances will he countenance my even speaking to him! And Cousin Amelia, of course, is in full agreement with him. My spirits are totally cast down, and I am at my wits’ end! I have not seen George since that day in Green Park — Cousin Amelia ensures that! What am I to
do,
Alex?”