Alissa Baxter (6 page)

Her brother smiled ruefully. “You are right, of course.” He paused for a moment, then said slowly, “I shall give the matter some thought, Alex. There must be a suitable person in the neighbourhood who can take over your duties.” He glanced at the clock above the mantlepiece. “Unfortunately, I have to go now, my dear. I have a meeting with my bailiff. However, we shall discuss this later. I am sure that we will be able to find a solution to the problem.”

He strode quickly from the room, leaving Alexandra thinking about what he had said. She was in no doubt that a suitable person could be found to undertake her charitable duties. But she sincerely doubted if that person would be willing to take on some of her more dangerous activities. Although John knew that she asked Cook, on a daily basis, to make up the various food baskets she delivered to the poor, he did not know that she also gave the poor families money when she visited them. He also did not know that the money she gave them was obtained, against their will, from the very people who refused to pay their labourers a decent wage.

The arrival of Mr Chanderly in the district could, however, make a difference to the way the other landowners treated their tenants, she mused. However objectionable she personally found him to be, she had to admit that Robert Chanderly had an aura of authority that was difficult to mistake. His concern for his labourers the other day had seemed genuine enough, and the neighbouring gentry, who would not listen to a man of John’s tender years, would perhaps take the advice of an older, more knowledgeable man who obviously had experience of the world. A great deal of experience, Alexandra thought, biting her lip.

She was still mystified as to what had alerted the man to the fact that she was from the upper classes, but she decided not to worry about it unduly. No one else had ever suspected that she was not what she seemed. She would just have to be very careful in future not to waylay Mr Chanderly again. This could prove to be a trifle difficult, she admitted to herself, because the carriage he kept was fairly anonymous — black, plain, with no crest — and therefore not easily distinguished from any other. Her stomach clenched suddenly at the thought of being unmasked by him, but she put the disturbing notion aside, and determinedly returned her attention to the novel she was reading. She would simply not allow that green-eyed devil to unnerve her.

Alexandra surveyed herself in the glass, twisting this way and that as she studied her reflection with a critical eye. She wore a white muslin evening gown, delicately embroidered with coloured borders, and cut low and square in the neck. The dress outlined her figure very prettily, but Alexandra was of the opinion that the style was a trifle revealing. She had no desire to draw attention to herself this evening at the party, but had a nasty suspicion that if she went attired like this, she may well do so. She was fiddling with the strand of pearls that adorned her neck when the door behind her opened and Aunt Eliza entered the room. As Alexandra turned reluctantly around to face her relative, Mrs Grantham said, with a smile,

“My dear! You look quite charming! ”

Alexandra looked at her doubtfully. “Do you really think so, Aunt? You do not think, perhaps, that the neckline is cut a trifle low?”

Mrs Grantham clicked her tongue. “Now, now, Alexandra. Do not fret about that. I assure you it is quite
à la mode
.” She advanced further into the room. “Hmm, let me look at you more closely.” She fussed around her niece, straightening a flounce on the hem of her gown, and rearranging a slightly wayward curl in her coiffure. Alexandra gritted her teeth at these ministrations, but endured them, knowing that her aunt was not to be deterred. Finally Eliza Grantham stood back with a satisfied smile on her face. “There we are, my love. You look quite lovely, you know.” Her smile faded as she continued to look at Alexandra. “Indeed, it — it quite oversets me to see my young niece all grown to maturity.” She sniffled a little, and Alexandra watched with barely concealed horror as she began to cry. “So young and beautiful... and you are to leave me so soon...”

Pressing a lacy handkerchief into her aunt’s hand, Alexandra wondered frantically what she could say to distract her from launching into one of the sentimental soliloquies for which she was renowned. Fortunately, though, Alexandra’s maid, Hobbes, came into the room at this moment and saved the day by informing them that their coach was awaiting them.

Eliza Grantham’s tears miraculously dried up at this news, and she hurried to the mirror to check on her appearance, before following her niece out of the door, and down the stairs to the hall where John was awaiting them.

Alexandra shot her brother a warning look as she approached him, and whispered, “Be careful what you say. Aunt Eliza is in her sentimental mood.”

John’s eyes widened at the import of this statement, and he turned with a nervous smile to greet his aunt. But, fortunately, she seemed to have her emotions more under control, and only smiled up at him in a slightly misty fashion as she said, “Dearest John! Are we not fortunate to have such a dashing young man as our escort!” She glanced across at her niece. “Do you not agree, Alexandra, that our dear boy is splendidly turned out?”

“He is indeed,” Alexandra said in a solemn voice, but as her aunt turned to walk through the front door, she giggled and whispered to her brother, “Do not look so pained, John. At least she didn’t weep all over you!”

An hour later, Alexandra stifled a yawn as she tried to concentrate on the discussion going on around her. She was standing amongst a group of young people she had known since her childhood. Although she usually enjoyed talking to her old friends, the conversation had unfortunately turned to the upcoming London Season, and Jane Hadley was now expounding with some length on the number of gowns that her mother was having made up for her. Alexandra glanced at the gentlemen in their party, and stifled a grin. Thomas Gibson and James Henry were regarding Jane with ill-concealed irritation, while poor Oliver Keaton looked like a man who suddenly found himself trapped in a most unpleasant place, with no means of escape.

Jane finally seemed to exhaust the subject of her clothes, and Thomas Gibson quickly jumped into the lull in the conversation before she could begin speaking again. “I say – have you heard that a couple of Bow Street Runners are to be sent down here? They are going to try to apprehend those two highwaymen who have been terrorising the region.”

Oliver Keaton nodded his head. “My father told me about that. He is confident that they will soon be arrested.”

Alexandra looked at Mr Gibson inquiringly. “Do you know when the Runners will arrive?”

“They should be here in about a week’s time, I think.”

Jane Hadley put a shaking hand to her forehead. “Oh — let us not speak of such horrid things. Those highwaymen quite terrify me. My father was held up by the rogues a few weeks ago, you know.”

“He was?” Mr Gibson said. “Well rest assured, Miss Hadley, that they will soon be apprehended.”

At this moment, Mrs Hadley came up to the group with Mr Chanderly in tow. “Ah, Jane, dear. I have brought Mr Chanderly across so that you can introduce him to your friends.”

“Of course, Mama,” Jane said. Her mother moved away, and Jane smiled coyly up at Mr Chanderly. “May I make my friends known to you, sir?” She made the necessary introductions, leaving Alexandra till last. “And finally, may I present Miss Alexandra Grantham to you?”

Mr Chanderly bowed in Alexandra’s direction. “I am already acquainted with Miss Grantham.”

“You are?” Jane said sharply, forgetting to be sweet.

“Yes — I paid a call on Miss Grantham and her brother. They are my closest neighbours.”

“Oh, yes — of course,” Jane said. She looked across at Alexandra. “You will know then what a charming eccentric our dear Alexandra is.”

The words hung uneasily in the air. Finally, Mr Chanderly said in a soft voice, “I know indeed that she is charming.”

He smiled warmly at Alexandra, who lowered her eyes in some confusion. She was accustomed to Jane’s barbed comments, and usually took little notice of them, however she found it unexpectedly comforting to have Mr Chanderly come to her defence in this way. She looked up to see Jane scowling at her. The other girl masked her expression quickly, but Alexandra knew that she could be not be happy with Mr Chanderly’s gallant support of her.

Jane batted her pale lashes as she turned her attention once again to the man standing beside her. “On behalf of my friends, Mr Chanderly, I would like to welcome you to the area, and wish you a pleasant stay.”

“Thank you, Miss Hadley.”

Oliver Keaton spoke. “We also hope that your stay will be a safe one, Mr Chanderly. My father informed me that you were waylaid on your journey here?”

Mr Chanderly nodded. “I was — but the thieves were unsuccessful in their attempt to rob me.”

“They were?” Mr Keaton looked surprised. “You were fortunate then. Many others have escaped less favourably.”

Jane shuddered. “I shall only sleep peacefully in my bed when I know that the Bow Street Runners have arrested those scoundrels. It is a scandal that we have to live in fear of our lives on a daily basis!”

“I have never heard that those highwaymen have actually killed anyone,” Alexandra said quietly.

Jane shuddered again. “No — but they might well do so if they were provoked. I do hope that they will be apprehended soon.”

“The Runners will see to it that they are, Miss Hadley,” Thomas Gibson said. “They will soon be hanging in chains for their sins. That you can be sure of.”

Alexandra felt a chill run down her spine at these words. It had been news to her that the Bow Street Runners had been called in to investigate the highway robberies. And very disturbing news at that. Never before had she allowed herself to dwell on the real possibility that she could be captured one day, but now the prospect of discovery loomed large in her mind’s eye, making her feel slightly ill.

Alexandra took a deep, calming breath, telling herself that she was foolish to feel so nervous. The Bow Street Runners would never suspect a lady of being a highwayman, so there was no possible way that suspicion could ever fall on her. While the Runners were in the district, she would simply cease her activities, she decided. But, unbidden, an image of herself and Ben, hanging in chains, flashed before her eyes, and she felt the blood drain from her face. Alexandra blinked determinedly, as if to clear her mind of the disturbing picture, and looked around at the group of people she was standing amongst. How shocked they would all be, she thought, if they ever found out that she was one of the notorious thieves of whom they had been speaking. Feeling someone’s gaze upon her, Alexandra turned her head and her eyes met Robert Chanderly’s. As she stared up at him, she had the strangest feeling that he was looking right into her soul, and that he knew her secret. She broke the eye contact first, and looked away, scolding herself for allowing her imagination to play such tricks on her. Mr Chanderly would surely never suspect her of being a highwayman. There was no reason why he should. It was only because the man set her all on edge that she felt so exposed in his presence, Alexandra thought irritably. She glanced at him again, and was relieved to see that he was no longer looking at her, but was listening to something Oliver Keaton was saying. As Alexandra studied the strong profile of the man across from her, a cold shiver ran through her, because she sensed suddenly, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she had not been mistaken in her earlier instinctive belief. He knew.

“No, Miss Alexandra, I simply won’t do it. The danger is too great.”

Alexandra looked at Ben in surprise, taken aback by his refusal to help her. “But, this will be the last time for a long while, Ben,” she urged. “When the Runners arrive we shall naturally cease our activities until they leave the district again. They only arrive at the end of the week so there is no danger that we shall be captured.”

Ben looked at his young mistress with a lowered brow. “I have a bad feeling in me bones about this, Miss Alexandra. What with the Runners coming and all...” He shook his head. “Nay, Miss. I’m sorry, but me conscience will never allow it. If something were to happen to you, I’d never forgive meself. And your brother wouldn’t forgive me neither for aiding you in this madness.”

“But nothing will happen to me, and he need never know. Please, Ben,” Alexandra said, looking up at her henchman beseechingly. “I visited Mrs Smith yesterday, and she looked desperate. With seven children to support and no husband, she is in a terrible way. I promised to bring her some money...”

Ben stood irresolute for a moment, then he said, “Nay, Miss, I cannot help you, and that’s me final word on the matter.”

He deliberately turned his attention back to the saddle that he had been polishing before Alexandra interrupted him, leaving her staring at him in dismay. She had wanted to carry out just one more highway robbery before the Runners arrived in the district, but with her accomplice refusing to aid her, the chances of her being able to do so successfully were unlikely. Seeing that Ben was not to be moved, Alexandra shrugged her shoulders and left him. She hesitated outside the stable doors for a moment, wondering if she should return home for breakfast. Even though her stomach was rumbling loudly, she decided to walk down the hill to the stone wall that was the eastern boundary of the estate first, before returning home. She reached the wall and leaned her arms against it, sighing deeply as she looked at the surrounding meadowlands, hardly feeling the rough stone that was digging into her elbows.

Sheltered by a spinney on the one side and a wood on the other, the soft countryside looked peaceful and still in the early morning light. Several sheep grazed in the distance, and nearby a brook gurgled happily on its way. Alexandra spotted a pretty blue kingfisher perched on a low-hanging willow branch at the brook’s side, and for a moment she forgot her troubles as she watched the bird swoop down to seize its prey from the moist earth. But as the kingfisher flew away, her thoughts turned once again to her problems. It wasn’t often that the peaceful sights and sounds of the countryside failed to have a consoling effect on her, but today not even Nature could soothe her downcast spirits. She was tired and frustrated by what she saw as her fruitless efforts to help the peasantry. Because, although she often gave them food and money, she was well aware that this was only a temporary measure of relief. What were really needed, she reflected, were dramatic reforms that would enable the peasants to become more self-sufficient, and less reliant on charitable handouts. But with the landowners in the surrounding area being so reluctant to implement reforms, the chances of things changing for the better in the near future were minimal.