by Yasmine Nash
Charles’ eyes widened slightly upon seeing his friend. Apparently Henry hadn’t done as good a job as he’d hoped at disguising his rumpled state. Charles said lightly, “You look like I do after I’ve had a bad night at the card tables.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Henry mumbled into his cup.
Charles pulled out a chair and joined his friend at the table. “All I can say is, if you’ve gambled away your fortune, don’t turn to me for help. I’m short enough on funds at the moment as it is.” As much as Charles Camden loved playing at cards and dice, the love did not seem to be mutual. He had gambled away hundreds, if not thousands of pounds, but as the eldest son of a wealthy family, he could certainly afford it.
Charles continued on. “I had been sent by the party to discover your whereabouts, but now I can see that it’s probably best if you don’t join us on our morning jaunt. I’m guessing that was your fist that left that hole I saw in the parlor’s lovely yellow wallpaper? I had hoped the letter I bore you yesterday might have held good news, but clearly that was not the case. Shall I tell Sir Neville you’re under the weather?”
“Tell him whatever you like. If this headache will allow me, I’ll be gone on my way back to London by the time Sir Neville and the others return.” London, where he now had nothing. The Inn of Courts didn’t want him. Alexandra would be there to taunt him. The thought of the city’s crowds felt suffocating. Even his preferred garden in London, once a regular walking spot for him to wander and collect his thoughts, had become difficult to visit after what had happened with Alexandra there.
“You know, what I need is a change of scenery, Camden. Maybe instead of traveling back to London, you and I should just head straight to your country estate? We can hole up there until spring, working on your fencing.”
Charles’ eyebrows lifted. Henry could see his friend was concerned but trying his best not to show it. “As much as I enjoy relying on your needs when I plan my affairs, I’m afraid I must remain in London a few weeks longer. I have a few stray bits of business to wrap up there. But don’t worry, I’ll make your excuses to Sir Neville. Urgent business draws you away sooner than anticipated, etcetera, etcetera.”
Henry downed the remainder of his coffee. Regardless of whether or not Charles accompanied him, he really did intend to leave Sir Neville’s home at least as soon as possible. He slammed his coffee cup on the table then winced at the sound.
Or perhaps he would wait a little longer until this hangover passed.
Chapter 21
The old castle ruins were only a half-hour walk from Sir Neville’s home. The crumbling gray stones were covered with dark green moss and the remains of dead vines and other plants from seasons long gone. According to Sir Neville, his forefathers had lived here in this castle before abandoning it for the abbey instead. Feigning interest was more difficult than usual for Alexandra. At one point, she found she’d been nodding her head in agreement for half a minute after he’d already finished speaking. Either Sir Neville hadn’t noticed or he merely thought she was very enthusiastic about old rocks.
Alexandra had considered pleading illness this morning to escape the excursion but had decided she’d rather not draw any attention to herself. Fortune smiled on her, for Henry was not present at breakfast, nor when the walking party went off in search of the ruins. She wasn’t sure she would have been able to face him after last night. His hands on her buttocks. His face lining her neck with fire hot kisses. The image rose unbidden to her mind, causing her cheeks to burn red and her thighs to tingle. She looked around at the others furtively, as though they could read her thoughts. Thankfully everyone seemed engrossed in the landscape.
And it was very pretty. Alexa wandered off a little from the group to get a better glimpse of the scenery from a different angle. Just around a corner was a small hill in the landscape that gave her a full panorama of the countryside for miles around the castle. Closing her eyes with the sun on her face and a brisk breeze ruffling her curls, she could forget everything for a moment. Every worry.
“The land is beautiful, isn’t it?” said a voice from beside her. She jumped in surprise. It was Sir Neville. Of course. She had been so caught up, she hadn’t heard him approach. “Although it pales in comparison to the view I have right now,” he said, staring straight at Alexa as he spoke.
He doesn’t mean me, does he? She thought it best for her to ignore that and uncomfortably changed the subject back onto more neutral ground. She shifted her body toward the direction she had come from. “I suppose I’ve been away so long, the others are wondering where I’ve gone to. I should be getting back.”
His smile faltered a little, but Sir Neville plowed on. “They’re well on their way back to the abbey. We won’t be missed. We have complete privacy,” he assured her, grabbing hold of her gloved right hand. His fingers fit awkwardly into the space between her own. “Surely you’ve noticed how much I admire you, Miss Morland? Your beauty, yes, but also your accomplishments and your mind. And although my sisters and my cousins have warned me away, your lack of fortune does not perturb me. Lovely Alexandra, will you consent to make my hopes and wishes come true? Will you consent to be my wife”
Her stomach fell a little more at every word he said. Why, oh why had he spoken to his cousins of his intentions before speaking to her? She very gently tugged her hand from his. “Sir Neville, you’re a good man. And I’ve always enjoyed our friendship. But—” She paused briefly. But what? She had never considered him in that light. Even now, with his kind words, the thought of being married to him left her heart cold.
But perhaps she should marry him anyway, a voice in the back of her head nudged. She would have more independence than she did presently. So what if she didn’t love him? At least he was kind. And her emotional distance could even be a boon. If Sir Neville learned her secret and grew to despise her, that coldness wouldn’t sting in the same way it would from a man she loved. Under those circumstances, her lack of love would be an armor.
No more boardinghouse.
No becoming a governess.
No more Edmund.
And yet, even with all the reasons in favor of saying yes, she couldn’t do it. “But I do not think I’m the right woman to be your wife,” Alexandra finished as kindly as she could. “If I have caused any pain, it has been completely unintentional on my part.”
Sir Neville’s face shuttered. “I see,” he said a little stiffly.
“I am sorry,” she began, but he cut her off.
“Not to worry, not to worry. Just a little misunderstanding. I bear you no ill will,” he said through a forced smile. “Do you think you can return to the abbey on your own? I might stay here just a little while longer.”
Alexandra headed back down the hill on her own, looking back once to see Sir Neville’s slumped figure facing away from her. She could only hope that he hadn’t felt anything too powerful for her that a little distance and time couldn’t remedy.
Sir Neville’s sisters glanced at Alexandra through narrowed eyes when she returned alone. But they said nothing to her. Instead, they fed the other guests with enough tea and cakes to power them through their return journeys to London in the afternoon. Thankfully, Henry was nowhere to be seen when Alexa got back. One disastrous romantic encounter per day was all she could handle at the moment. According to Mariah, whom Alexa had tried to ask about it as casually as she could, urgent business had forced Henry back to London while everyone else had been walking earlier. Sure, the urgent business of not seeing her again.
Sir Neville returned just in time to see the rest of his guests off. And if he accidentally forgot to say farewell to Alexa, well she supposed she couldn’t blame him.
Sir Peters was escorting Mariah and Alexa back on the return journey as well. He and Mariah spent the entire ride happily reminiscing over the delights of the past two days, but Alexa privately thought she couldn’t wait to be away from Smithwell. It had not turned out to be the escape from her troubles sh
e had imagined it would be. She was glad to leave.
* * *
Nearly three months had passed now since Alexandra had received Mariah’s first letters of invitation. After the visit to Smithwell Abbey, the days seemed to pass by even more quickly. Although Mariah still made sure to schedule them numerous social engagements, Sir Neville had seemed to lose his taste for their company. As the days approached spring, Alexa began to plan how to broach the end of her stay here. She was finding herself looking forward to the relative privacy she had access to at the boardinghouse, as opposed to at Grosvenor’s Street, where she was at Mariah’s beck and call whenever her cousin grew bored. More than that though, Alexa began to seriously plan for her future.
The visit to Sir Neville’s had decided it for her. It was proof that she was never going to marry and that Henry would always have some hold over her. So she might as well open herself up to new possibilities in life. With that idea in mind, she took out a fresh sheet of paper and began writing a letter addressed to Mrs. Eastman.
* * *
It was an unseasonably warm morning when Alexandra finally decided it was time to tell Mariah her resolve to set a date for returning to Mrs. Godersham’s. As Mrs. Eastman had not yet responded to her query, Alexandra figured it was best not to mention that just yet. When she brought up the topic at breakfast, she was surprised to see that her cousin seemed almost relieved.
“I’ve so enjoyed having you here, but if you must leave, you must,” Mariah said a little too breezily. “Edmund will get over this whole situation someday, and when he does, we’ll have you over to Peverton to stay. Just like in the old times.”
Alexa attempted a smile, but it came out more of a grimace instead. She thought there was probably nothing she’d like less in this world than to return to Peverton as a guest instead of its mistress. As usual, Mariah didn’t seem to notice, prattling on about her plans for the future.
“No use delaying your return to Mrs. Godersham’s, don’t you think?” Mariah went on with forced brightness. “I’ll write to her to expect you back on Saturday. Which means I’ll have to plan a farewell party for you and invite everyone,” she went on, sounding more like her normal self. “It’s been several days since we’ve heard from Sir Neville, and here I had been thinking he had been soft on you. Oh well.”
Alexandra wasn’t sure what to make of her cousin’s eager willingness to be rid of her. But she disclaimed the idea of a farewell party—she’d just as soon not see most of her cousin’s friends again anyway. As usual, Mariah ignored her and called the cook in to tell her how many cakes she’d need to make before Friday arrived.
Chapter 22
Since he’d returned to London, Henry’s days had passed nearly as aimlessly as Charles Camden’s normally did. Without his studies to occupy him, Henry wasn’t sure what to do with himself. This had the additional punishment of leaving him with nothing to distract his mind from memories of Alexa. He’d woken up from dreams about her every night since he’d been back, but instead of providing any sort of solace, the dreams merely taunted him with what he couldn’t have.
After an exceptionally late night spent with Charles out gambling, Henry returned home as the first bleary rays of dawn were creeping over the horizon. He stopped short upon entering his home and finding someone sitting in the armchair in the parlor.
Neat gray hair tied back around his handsome lined face, his waistcoat perfectly fitted around his trim figure, Sir Elliot Northam was the very picture of a proper gentleman. And he was seemingly waiting for Henry, for he rose as his son entered the room in dumb silence.
“What, is this how you greet your father?” he scolded. “My goodness, Henry, society will never take you seriously if you walk around looking like a wastrel,” his father added disdainfully as he took in Henry’s mussed hair, unshaven face, and wrinkled clothes.
“I’ve been out gambling,” Henry said coldly. “Like young men of good fortune and breeding are supposed to do, right?”
His father scowled. “Well I see you haven’t matured in the months I’ve been away. I had hoped that irrational letter you’d sent me last week had been a momentary lapse of judgment.”
Henry looked at Sir Elliot in amazement. That “irrational” letter had been full of recriminations and blame, sure, but he had also laid bare the pain his father’s interference with the court had caused him. If he had hoped that he might spur his father to remedy his actions or even, heaven forbid, offer an apology for his meddling, it was clear that was a foolish pipe dream.
“I assume you’re here for some purpose?” Henry asked, crossing his arms in front of him and leaning against the doorjamb. “Or are you only checking up on me to ensure I haven’t found a loophole to get onto the court after all? Don’t worry, your work was thorough. I no longer have a future in the law. You can hurry home and assure Mother and George that my virtue is still secure.”
His father rose. “I came to talk some sense into you about your future. But I can see you won’t be reasonable. So I’ll leave you with some advice: Put this law nonsense behind you, Henry. Find yourself a wife of good family and fortune so you can finally stop being an embarrassment to us, instead of worrying about things you can never have.” And with that, Sir Elliot walked past Henry and out the door. Neither said farewell.
Chapter 23
Early Tuesday morning, Alexandra left the London house at Mariah’s request to complete an errand related to Friday’s party. It took her less time than she’d allotted, so as she returned to the house, she was mentally rearranging the rest of her day’s schedule. A sound from the parlor drew her in there with the mind to ask Mariah if she could spare her while she left for a quick visit with Charlotte.
Alexandra was pulling her gloves off her hands and so did not see who had made the noise at first. As she lifted her head, she froze. Her cousin Edmund was seated stiffly on the sofa, glaring at her. He looked the same as he had the last time they’d spoken in Mrs. Godersham’s home, except maybe his pale blonde hair was a little thinner than it had been a year ago. Then, she had been at one of her lowest points.
“I did not expect you,” she said dumbly. Where was Mariah?
“No, I imagine not,” Edmund said. “I told Mariah I would be arriving next week, but business necessitated that I arrive sooner than planned.” Mariah had certainly not mentioned a word of this to Alexandra. Was this why Mariah had suddenly seemed so eager to be rid of her? And how much did Edmund know?
“Don’t bother to lie,” he added, perhaps seeing the conundrum on her face. “I know you’ve been staying here for months. Foolish of my sister to think I wouldn’t figure it out. She and I share some acquaintances in common, after all, and it was only a matter of time before I learned of your presence here from one of them.”
Alexandra let out a deep breath. At least it was out in the open now. Fortunately, she wouldn’t be here much longer. “Well, I shall be out of your hair soon enough. I had planned to leave Sunday at any rate, but I can be ready to leave this afternoon if you wish it.” Most of her clothes and other personal items were already packed neatly in her trunk.
She had turned on her heel and was ready to leave the room and finish packing when Edmund’s voice stopped her. “And how is that lover of yours? The Northam fellow.”
Alexandra willed herself to remain calm. Edmund’s interference was partly the reason she and Henry had broken things off a year ago. If Edmund hadn’t cruelly stuck his nose into her business, sharing information about her with Henry before she could tell him herself, who knows what might have happened? That was in the past though, and probably for the best, considering what had happened between her and Henry afterward. So why was she feeling rage flash through her body?
“I think you well know that there’s no longer anything between Henry and me,” she said coldly. “As you’d intended.”
Edmund sneered. “Do you mean he saw past the façade you present to the world? That you’re a proper young woman when, in
fact, you’re nothing more than a temptress? A whore just like your mother?”
Something inside Alexandra snapped. In one motion, she crossed the room and slapped him on the face. Lightning quick, her cousin’s hands were on her shoulders, pushing her forcefully against the wall. Edmund was a man of slight build, but he was still stronger than Alexandra.
“I’ve been very generous,” he growled, spittle flying from his mouth. “And very patient, wouldn’t you say? But enough is enough, Alexandra. I’m done keeping your secrets. What do you think Mrs. Godersham will do when I tell her the truth about you? Or your little spinster friend? What will she say?” Alexa strained against his grip, trying to get away, but that only made his fingers dig into her skin more tightly. He was surprisingly strong. He had been such a scrawny, sticklike thing when they were children.
“Edmund, you’re hurting me,” Alexandra said through strained teeth.
Edmund ignored her. “We could have been happy together, Alexandra. But instead you chose poverty and friendlessness over me. And even when I’ve tried to be forgiving, you’ve been ungrateful.”
His grip was surely going to leave a bruise. Tears were forming in her eyes at the pain. “All in all, I think I made the right choice,” Alexandra spat at him, trying to shove Edmund away from her. His grip only tightened even more in response.
* * *
Henry had been thinking for a while that there was nothing left to hold him in London. Something about seeing his father here had been the finishing touch. The time had come to leave.
Perhaps he would spend a few months traveling the Continent. He hadn’t left England since he was a teenager, and a change of scenery would do him good. His mind made up, he was determined not to delay. It wouldn’t take him long to settle his remaining affairs in London. Henry could probably be gone within a few days.
