Alissa Baxter (9 page)

“I shall look forward to our tête-à-tête, Grandmama,” Alexandra said, getting up from her chair. Walking out of the room, she quietly closed the door behind her, and hurried downstairs to join her brother and aunt for a light luncheon.

Alexandra was talking to her brother in the Drawing Room later that afternoon, when Higgins came into the room, and announced that Mr Chanderly had called. After telling the butler to show him in, John said, a surprised note in his voice, “I wonder why he has called again so soon after his previous visit.”

Before Alexandra could enlighten him as to the probable reason, Mr Chanderly entered the room. After he had greeted them, and refused Alexandra’s offer of refreshment, he sat down in the chair she indicated and said, “I am happy to find you both at home, as I have something of a particular nature that I wish to discuss with you.”

John raised his brows, but said nothing, waiting for the older man to continue.

Mr Chanderly looked across at him. “I am not sure if you are aware of this, Sir John, but your sister and I recently discussed the problems that many of the labourers in this district are facing, trying to make a decent living. She informed me that the local landowners are reluctant to institute reforms.”

John nodded his head gravely. “That is true. In the past, I have tried to persuade them to make changes, but, because of my youth, I suppose, they have never taken my suggestions seriously.”

“Well, after discussing the matter with your sister, I realised that it would be in our best interests to arrange a meeting of the landowners in the district. Even small changes can make big differences to the quality of life of the poor and as I shall point out to our neighbours, it would be foolish to allow conditions to deteriorate to the extent that the peasants are tempted to riot.”

Alexandra looked at him curiously. “What suggestions will you make to them, Mr Chanderly?”

“I shall advise them about the benefits of providing allotment gardens for the labourers.”

“Allotment gardens?” Alexandra repeated, a puzzled expression on her face.

“Yes. It is a system whereby landowners provide plots of land to their farm labourers for the growing of vegetables and the keeping of a small number of livestock,” Mr Chanderly explained.

“It sounds a worthwhile project, “ Alexandra said slowly.

“It is. As you have no doubt discovered, Miss Grantham, donations of money and food, although beneficial, are only short-term solutions to the problem of poverty in the countryside. What is needed is for the labourers to become more self-sufficient, and less reliant on charity. This system will not only improve their standard of living, it will also increase their sense of independence and self-worth.”

Alexandra frowned a little. “But will our neighbours be open to your suggestions, Mr Chanderly? As you know, they have resisted implementing any reforms up till now.”

“I am sure that once I have presented the benefits of the plan to them, they will see the sense in it.”

“If so,” Alexandra said quietly, “it would make a difference to the lives of many families.”

The door opened at this moment, and Lady Beauchamp walked into the room. She stood transfixed in the doorway for a moment as she stared across at the assembled gathering. As John and Mr Chanderly rose to their feet, she said in a surprised voice, “So this is where you have been hiding yourself, Robert! All of London has been speculating about your whereabouts, you know.”

Alexandra opened her eyes wide. “You — you are acquainted with Mr Chanderly, Grandmama?”

Lady Beauchamp frowned. “
Mr
Chanderly? What are you saying, child? Robert is the Earl of Chanderly and the Duke of Stanford.”

Alexandra looked at her grandmother in disbelief, then dawning horror as she realised that her adversary of the past few weeks was none other than Robert Beaumont, the notorious ninth Duke of Stanford. Even in the rural backwater where she had lived all her life, news of this man’s exploits had reached her ears. He was well known as a gambler, a rake, and a deadly shot with pistols, and she knew that Society mamas guarded their impressionable daughters from him with the utmost care because of his notorious reputation regarding women. And with good reason, she thought angrily, remembering the expert way in which he had kissed her.

The Duke, watching the conflicting expressions play across Alexandra’s face, guessed exactly what she was thinking. “I see that you have heard of the infamous Duke of Stanford, ma’am,” he murmured.

“Indeed, sir, I have. Your reputation goes before you,” Alexandra said haughtily.

The Duke’s eyes gleamed, but before he could respond, Lady Beauchamp said in a puzzled voice, “Why have you concealed your identity, your grace? And what brings you here?”

Turning his attention to her, he murmured, “I inherited Durbridge Estate a while ago and I have come down here to set it in order. But, not wishing to draw undue attention to myself, I thought it would be prudent to dispose of my title for a few weeks.”

“Thereby deflecting the schemes of any matchmaking mamas?” Lady Beauchamp said dryly.

“Precisely, ma’am,” the Duke said, bowing. “You know me too well.”

“Well, Robert, your secret is safe with me — and with John and Alexandra, I’m sure.”

“Thank you, Lady Beauchamp. However, I shall not be here for much longer.”

“Of course. You will no doubt be returning to London for the Season?” she said, looking at him inquiringly.

“Yes, as soon as my affairs are in order here.”

They conversed for a few minutes more, before the Duke stood up to take his leave. When he had left the room, Lady Beauchamp turned to her two grandchildren, and said in a brisk voice, “Well, what a surprise to find Stanford here!”

“A surprise, indeed,” Alexandra said coolly.

Lady Beauchamp eyed her granddaughter and was about to say something when John stood up, informing them that he had some matters to see to on the estate. When he had departed, Lady Beauchamp looked back at Alexandra, and clearing her voice, said delicately, “Dearest, I hope that you haven’t developed an interest in Stanford. Because, if you have you will be doomed to disappointment! Many a young lady has had romantic dreams about ensnaring him, but they have come to naught. Robert is a confirmed bachelor, you see, and although he knows that it is his duty to marry, he is in no hurry to do so. And because he has two brothers, one of whom is married with a son, he is not concerned about the title passing out of the family, and consequently this has given him even less incentive to marry. So, do not let him charm you, my love! You will only be disappointed.”

“Rest assured, Grandmama, that I am in no danger of succumbing to him. In fact, I would rather marry a viper than that odious man!” Alexandra said scathingly.

Lady Beauchamp blinked. “A viper, child?”

Alexandra nodded her head. “I am sure that it would prove to be a far more pleasant companion than the Duke of Stanford.”

“Well, I am grateful, dear, that you appear to be in no danger of succumbing to him,” Lady Beauchamp said, a trifle faintly.

“I cannot understand why any woman would be so foolish as to lose her heart to that — that deceiver!” Alexandra said, in a scornful voice. “And, now Grandmama, if you will excuse me, I have some letters I need to write.” She walked out of the room, and closed the door behind her with a decided snap.

Lady Beauchamp stared meditatively at the closed door, and murmured to herself, “I wonder what he has done to put her back up in that way.” Shaking her head, she reflected that bringing out her fiery granddaughter could prove to be a more difficult task than she had anticipated, especially if the child was bent on being at odds with the
ton
’s acknowledged leader of Society. She would have to warn Alexandra about the very real danger of showing her antipathy towards him, Lady Beauchamp decided anxiously. The Duke of Stanford was too powerful a man to have as an enemy, and if he was inclined to, he could blight Alexandra’s social career before it had even begun, and that, she thought, frowning, was something that did not bear thinking about.

The next morning, the Duke of Stanford called at Grantham Place, and after Higgins had announced him, entered the Drawing Room where Alexandra was seated on the window seat, looking absently out of the window. She looked at him in surprise, and murmured a formal greeting.

The Duke bowed, and after he had inquired after her health, said quietly, “I wish to speak to you, Miss Grantham, regarding a certain matter. Would you care to walk with me in the gardens?”

Alexandra remained seated. “I cannot see what a noble personage such as yourself could possibly have to say to me, my lord Duke,” she said.

“I see that rankles.”

“I do not enjoy being deceived, your grace.”

The Duke chuckled. “Coming from you, Miss Grantham, that is rich indeed.”

“But at least
my
deception was for a good cause.”

“I can assure you that mine was as well,” the Duke said dryly.

“Your conceit amazes me, sir!” Alexandra said, shaking her head. “I cannot believe that you are so sought after.”

He shrugged. “You would be surprised at the lengths some women will go to to secure an offer of marriage from a duke.”

“I would indeed,” Alexandra said coldly.

Closing the distance between them, the Duke said in a calm voice, “You must strive to cultivate a civil tongue in that head of yours if you are to become the rage, Miss Grantham.”

Alexandra frowned up at him. “What do you mean?”

The Duke flicked some dust off the sleeve of his coat, and said quietly, “I mean precisely what I said. I have decided to bring you into fashion when you arrive in the capital.” He paused for a moment, before continuing, “You see, if you are to successfully “take” in London, you will need my endorsement. You are far too eccentric in your outlook on life for the Polite World to welcome you with open arms.”

Alexandra sniffed. “I refuse to behave like a bread-and-water miss in order to please Society.”

“Precisely, my dear. Which is why I have decided to make you the toast of the town.”

Alexandra looked at him curiously. “Why do you wish to make me the rage, your grace? What possible interest can you have in launching an insignificant country miss into London Society?”

The Duke looked down at Alexandra with a decided glint in his eyes. “It will be most entertaining to make the high sticklers of Society accept an unconventional creature such as yourself, Miss Grantham.”

“Indeed?” Alexandra said tartly. “I am happy to be such a source of amusement for you.”

He smiled. “A never ending source, I can assure you.”

He studied her with a thoughtful expression on his face and Alexandra, feeling somewhat unnerved by his scrutiny, said quickly, “If you will wait here a moment, I will fetch my hat.”

She hurried from the room, and when she returned a few minutes later, they left the house together.

Wrapped up in her thoughts, Alexandra made no effort at conversation as they walked across the lawns of Grantham Place, and the Duke, noting her preoccupied expression, said nothing as well. It was only as they were returning to the house that Alexandra came out of her brown study. “I think, sir, that you are faced with a very difficult task if you intend to bring me into fashion,” she said abruptly.

The Duke raised an eyebrow. “I
know
that I am faced with a difficult task, Miss Grantham, but a challenge has never deterred me. All that I demand from you is a basic respect for the conventions that govern our Society.”

Alexandra sighed. “But they are so irksome, your grace.”

“Nevertheless, you will respect them,” he said calmly.

Alexandra remained silent, annoyed at his highhandedness. He seemed to think that he had the right to order her about as if she were a puppet and he held all the strings. However, if the Duke of Stanford believed he could have the ordering of her life then he was in for a nasty surprise, she thought angrily. She had long ago decided that she would never allow any man to control her. Not even this one who purportedly had her best interests at heart. As Higgins opened the door, and the Duke took his leave of her, after refusing her offer of some refreshment, she reflected on the supreme arrogance of men. They seemed to think that they had only to say the word, and women would dance obediently to their tune.

Alexandra was in a far from docile mood, therefore, when Higgins informed her that her grandmother wished to see her. She was about to walk up the stairs, when Mrs Grantham came out of the Drawing Room, and said in a faltering voice, “May I talk to you, dearest?”

Alexandra suppressed a sigh. The last person she felt like speaking to at this moment was her aunt, but she followed her dutifully into the Drawing Room, and sat down beside her on the couch.

Mrs Grantham raised a trembling hand to her face. “Dearest, Mrs Hadley has just discovered that the man we thought of as Mr Chanderly is in actual fact the Duke of Stanford! She told me so earlier this morning.”

“Yes, he is.”

“But, my love — he is the leader of Polite Society, and because of what Mrs Hadley has said to him, he knows that you are bookish! My dear child, you are ruined. Quite ruined!” she cried tragically.

Alexandra tried to hide her impatience at her aunt’s histrionics, and she said in a calm voice, “Aunt Eliza. Try not to distress yourself so. No harm has been done.”

“Oh, my sweet, ignorant child. You do not know what you are speaking of! So untried in the ways of the world as you are. This means destruction. Complete social destruction!” And upon these words, she sank back against the couch, shaking uncontrollably.

Knowing that it would be useless to try to reason with her aunt in the state she was in, Alexandra rang for Higgins, and asked him to send for Mrs Grantham’s maid. When the girl arrived, Alexandra handed her aunt over to her expert ministrations, before leaving the room.

Hurrying up the stairs to Lady Beauchamp’s bedchamber, Alexandra knocked on the door and entered.

“There you are child,” Lady Beauchamp said with a smile, looking up from the book she was reading. “Sit down, my dear. We have so much to discuss!”