‘But why did she not write earlier?’ asked Margaret.
‘I think she was ashamed, though she had done nothing she needed to regret except leaving you in suspense: she recognized that this at least she could put right. I promised to post her letter myself. But when I saw that it was addressed to someone whom I took to be male, bearing a name different from her own, I felt it my duty to make sure – to find out –’
At any other time Margaret would have been amused to see such a sophisticated man struggling to complete his sentence, but by now she had become impatient. ‘May I read Alexa’s letter?’ she asked. ‘Afterwards, perhaps you will help me to understand what has been happening.’
She tugged at the bell pull and asked Betty to bring in tea while Lord Glanville felt in his inside pocket for the letter. It was long and emotional. Before she had reached the end of the third page, tears were streaming down Margaret’s face.
‘Relief, not sadness, Lord Glanville,’ she said as she came to the end, excusing her exhibition of weakness. ‘You will forgive me if I leave you for a moment.’
The bowl of water which stood on the washstand in her room was chilled almost to freezing point by the wintry weather. She lifted handfuls of it to splash and cool her face. Then, calm and businesslike, a professional woman again, she went back to the drawing room.
Between sips of China tea, Lord Glanville filled in the lacunae left by Alexa’s letter. Even his account, however, did not satisfactorily bridge the gap between Bristol and Baden-Baden.
‘I can see that Alexa has been fortunate indeed to be taken into your household, Lord Glanville,’ Margaret said in a puzzled voice. ‘But how did you come to take the responsibility for a stranger in such a generous way?’
For the first time her visitor hesitated. Margaret could not judge whether the full explanation was one that he did not know or chose not to give.
‘The circumstances of her arrival in London were unfortunate,’ he said. ‘I happened to be passing just at the moment when she had discovered, to her great distress, the difficulties which face a young girl who lacks the protection of her family. All I intended to do at first was to give her enough money for her fare back home. I can see now that I should have made very much stronger efforts to establish the details of her home life. But the circumstances were not appropriate for calm reflection. Alexa was in tears, refusing to admit that there was anywhere she could go, and I was on the point of leaving England with my wife.’
It still seemed to Margaret that the explanation was not complete, and Lord Glanville must have been sensitive to her doubts.
‘Alexa could have returned to you at any time,’ he said. ‘You may blame me for not forcing the truth out of her. I can only say that I did not know it was there to be forced.’
‘I don’t blame you for anything at all. Quite the opposite! Alexa’s letter makes it clear that you have been generous to her in a manner she does not deserve.’
‘Do you want me to send her back?’ asked Lord Glanville. ‘As her guardian, you have the right to decide.’
‘Do you wish to be free of her?’ asked Margaret in return. ‘As her guardian, I have the obligation to support her.’
‘I hope you will let her stay,’ Lord Glanville said. ‘My wife has become devoted to her. Not many beautiful young women are prepared to be so patient with an invalid. And Alexa may have told you in her letter how we had the good fortune to discover that La Becattini had taken up residence in Baden-Baden after her retirement from the stage. The fact that someone of her reputation has agreed to accept Alexa as a pupil is almost in itself the first step towards an operatic career.’ He paused, apparently sensitive to the significance of Margaret’s slowness to comment. ‘You may of course consider this an unsuitable ambition?’
She took a long time to consider, staring into the fire as though she could see the future there.
‘When I was a young woman myself, Lord Glanville, my ambition was to be a doctor. My father’s disapproval of such an idea was so certain that I never dared even to mention it to him. After his death, when I determined to begin the training, my brother denounced it as immoral. I was confident that he was wrong, and took my own way. I have never regretted it. No doubt Alexa feels the same kind of confidence that I am wrong about her. Doubtless I am being old-fashioned now, just as I thought my brother old-fashioned then. I cannot deny that I have a prejudice against the stage, even the operatic stage. But it’s true that Alexa has a great talent, and I believe that any young woman in her circumstances ought to have the means of earning her own living. If this is the way she chooses to do it, I must give her my blessing. In any case, it’s clear enough that if I were to call her back when she has already taken this first step which you describe, I could never expect her to forgive me. And what has life here to offer her? It was my fault in the first place that the only choice she saw was between dullness and flight. If you are prepared to continue as her patron, Lord Glanville, I shall be as grateful as she is; and happy to know that she is in such good hands.’
It still amazed her, as they smiled at each other, that she should feel such an instant sympathy with a stranger from a different class of society and way of life. But their tête-à-tête was interrupted by the boisterous arrival of Robert. This was the hour which Margaret kept free for him however great her pressure of work might be.
Lord Glanville looked almost wistful as the sturdy little boy flung himself on his mother’s knees and hugged her.
‘I must sympathize with you for being a widow,’ he said. ‘But at least you will have the happiness of seeing your son grow up.’
‘Have you no son of your own, Lord Glanville?’
He shook his head. ‘We had one baby daughter soon after our marriage: but she, unfortunately, did not survive. Since then – my wife’s illness first attacked her while she was still young, and increases in severity with every year that passes. I cannot hope for an heir. I find it ironical that I should have been so fortunate in my inheritance of wealth and title, but that I lack the power which most poorer men have, to dispose of my fortune as I would like. Still, I doubt whether my younger brother regrets my childless state as much as I do myself.’ He stood up, towering over her. ‘Alexa, then, will remain at Baden-Baden with my wife. If you have any further questions to ask of me, I shall be at Glanville House in Park Lane for as long as Parliament is sitting. And I hope very much, Dr Scott, that if you ever come to London you will call on me. A committee of ladies meets every month at my house to discuss how women may best be allowed some voice in the government of the country. The views of someone like yourself, someone who has entered a male sphere without losing any of her femininity, would be of great interest to us all.’
It was unlikely, Margaret thought as she said goodbye, that she would ever accept his invitation – unlikely even that she would ever see him again. The meeting, so unexpected in a life which offered few social pleasures, had warmed her day. But it was unimportant compared with the news he had brought. She played with Robert with the high-spirited youthfulness that she had known in her student days, chasing him with shrieks and screams of laughter through the dark rooms of the house until they were both over-excited. Later that evening she wrote a formal letter of thanks to Lord Glanville. Then, her lips open with happiness as her pen raced over the paper, she poured out her heart to Alexa.
3
When Royalty drops like a stone into the placid pool of a spa, the ripples touch even those who shelter in the backwaters. It was the habit of the Prince of Wales every year to travel straight from Cowes in search of a cure which would make his nickname, Tum-Tum, less appropriate. Alexa, like everyone else in Baden-Baden, knew when he arrived, but she had no expectations of meeting him. Age and his ever-increasing girth had made it impossible for the prince any longer to play the part of Don Juan, but his reputation was slow to fade. Although Lady Glanville would have the entrée if she cared to claim it, there was no possibility that she would introduce a be
autiful young woman into the royal presence. In any case, she was by now too ill to take any part in social life herself.
Alexa did not care. She was not interested in elderly princes, and during the past few months her daily timetable had left her few free moments. La Becattini had pretended a reluctance to undertake her instruction, but the pretence had been dropped as soon as the first session of coaching began. She was a hard taskmistress. There was no means of telling whether Lady Glanville had been right in seeing her energy as a refuge from the boredom of retirement or whether Alexa could be justified in hoping that her own talents prompted the determination that they would be developed to perfection. Whatever the reason, the daily meetings grew longer and longer. The training of the voice was the most important part of each session: but in addition to this, operatic roles were discussed and prepared. Over a tray of hot chocolate and cream cakes the diva would reminisce abut her own past successes: then she sent her pupil off with ferocious reminders of the exercises to be practised before the next morning. There was no time for boredom now. By the end of each day, the concentration which the work demanded made Alexa almost as ready for an early night as Lady Glanville.
Nevertheless, curiosity made Alexa dawdle when one morning as she returned from her coaching session she saw the prince with his entourage, waddling through the park towards her. Deep in conversation, they all passed without seeming to notice her – except for one: a young man who sauntered at the end of the little procession with a bored look on his face.
He came to a full stop in front of Alexa and addressed her directly, in a voice as haughty as his expression. He spoke in German, but with an accent which Alexa recognized as English.
‘Really, I’d begun to think that there was no one under the age of ninety in this home for cripples. Will you take a walk with me, Fräulein?’
‘I don’t believe we know each other,’ Alexa replied in English, flushing slightly with the knowledge that she ought to have continued on her way without taking any notice of him.
‘Easily remedied. Caversham, at your service.’ He clicked his heels and bowed sharply from the waist in the manner of a German student.
The Duke of Caversham! To Alexa’s still unsophisticated ears, the name rang with respectability. She told him her own, but continued to interrogate him as unobtrusively as she could. ‘I suppose you are in attendance on His Royal Highness?’
‘I’ve been summoned from Heidelberg by him out of curiosity. I succeeded to the title a few weeks ago, so His Royal Highness is aware that when he becomes king I shall already be a member of the House of Lords. He may be hoping to sound out my political views. He hardly needs to bother. Nothing would induce me to waste my time in such a dreary institution. Now that we are properly introduced, allow me to repeat my invitation.’
Alexa was well aware that a self-introduction was no introduction at all, but she had been starved of young company for so long that she could not bring herself to refuse the suggestion directly.
‘I am expected at the Haus des Kurgastes,’ she said, indicating the palatial building in which those who took their treatments most seriously rented suites. ‘And I have too much to carry.’ She was taking back a borrowed score of The Marriage of Figaro to study, as well as the manuscript books in which La Becattini scribbled exercises for her to practise.
‘I’m prepared to wait for a moment or two.’ The young duke sat down on one of the seats with which the gardens were well provided, and crossed both his legs and his arms. Without deciding what she would do, Alexa hurried on her way. To her surprise, she found that Lady Glanville had already returned from the Friedrichsbad and had retired to bed.
‘I am beginning to find the waters here too strong for me; too exhausting,’ Lady Glanville murmured. ‘I need to rest in bed for a few days. It’s dull for you, Alexa. I’m sorry.’
Alexa was sympathetic, but too much engrossed in her own affairs to pay very much attention to the worried expression on the face of the maid who busied herself making the bed comfortable. Usually Lady Glanville liked to listen to Alexa’s chatter about her lesson while she rested, but today she seemed too tired even for this. Alexa glanced out of the window and saw that the duke had not yet moved.
‘I made the acquaintance of the Duke of Caversham this morning,’ she said tentatively. ‘He invited me to stroll with him in the gardens.’
‘A very pleasant old gentleman,’ Lady Glanville murmured. ‘An acquaintance of my husband’s. You need fresh air. But don’t walk too far and tire yourself.’
Alexa hesitated for a second longer, wondering whether she ought to correct the misapprehension. But the invalid’s eyes had closed in exhaustion. And there could be no harm in a simple walk. She picked up her parasol and hurried down the stairs, slowing to a languid stroll only when she was in sight of the duke.
It was impossible to maintain an attitude of indifference for long. Her companion was twenty-one and high-spirited, as delighted to be free of royal restraints as Alexa was to escape from chaperonage. For an hour they laughed and talked together.
‘And you have never been to Heidelberg, although it is so near!’ exclaimed the young duke in astonishment when he discovered how closely she had been confined to Baden-Baden since her arrival. ‘You must come with me when I return, the day after tomorrow.’
‘I can hardly –’
‘You could bring a maid or whatever is necessary.’ He brushed her objections aside before she had time to make them. ‘I will introduce you to my friends. The university term has ended, but the social life is so strong that many of the students, like myself, are unwilling to tear themselves away.’
It was impossible, of course: and yet, as the duke continued to talk, taking it for granted that she would accompany him, Alexa explored the possibilities in her mind. She had not missed a single lesson with La Becattini since her coaching began. To plead a sore throat just for one morning could do no harm. And Lady Glanville, in her present exhausted state, would be glad to be left undisturbed. No one need know.
It was the mention of the other students which clinched the matter. She missed the company of young men. The disappointment which she had suffered at Matthew’s hands had made her resolve never again to bestow her affections too whole-heartedly, and the hard course of work imposed by La Becattini acted as an acceptable substitute for social life. But after concentrating for so many months on a goal which was still far ahead, the offer of a day’s relaxation was too exciting to be ignored. A little flirtation, nothing serious, to be forgotten as quickly as it began, was just what she needed to raise her spirits. And although it might be dangerous to spend too long alone with a young English aristocrat, she would be safe in a group. Excitement animated her face as she told him that she would come.
She had expected that they would travel by the railway, so when the day arrived it came as a shock to find that they were to travel by four-in-hand. True, the duke drove the horses as though taking part in a Roman chariot race; but all the same, Heidelberg was further away by horsepower than it would have been by steam engine. Although Alexa laughed, holding on to her hat, as they sped through the wooded countryside, she was already calculating times to herself. Her conclusions were not reassuring – but it seemed that her companion was able to read her thoughts.
‘The return journey will be speedier, of course, by railway,’ he said. ‘But these horses have to be returned to the livery stable.’
Alexa nodded to show that she understood the situation, and gave herself up to enjoyment of the drive. By the time the carriage rattled into the university city beneath the rosy ruins of the castle and clattered to a halt on the cobbled streets she was in her gaiest and most vivacious mood.
Caversham had been truthful when he promised her the company of his fellow students. The town swarmed with young men, walking stiffly in their high boots, and many of them bearing on their cheeks the fresh scars of duels. They wore the round caps which showed by their colours the corps to which each
belonged, and it was those of the red band who quickly attached themselves to the duke and his pretty partner. Feted, almost carried at times, Alexa was borne up and down the town, to stare at its monuments while the young men stared at her.
As evening approached the party swept into a beer cellar. It was already crowded with young men who sat in small groups near the walls, but a long table down the centre was empty. The arrogance with which Alexa’s hosts claimed it made clear their right to have it reserved for them: no doubt it was with their initials, as well as those of their predecessors, that the wood was so deeply carved.
While they called for beer, Alexa looked curiously around her. It was difficult to see much in the smoky atmosphere, for there were no windows in the low-ceilinged room and the oil lamps which hung from the heavy beams were almost obscured by a dangling collection of boots, fencing foils, ladies’ slippers and stolen street notices. The walls were covered with photographs of young men stiffly posed in groups, hung on panels as scarred with carved initials as the tables. It was clear enough that this was no place for a respectable young lady, but Alexa felt that she had no choice but to remain. The Duke of Caversham was her only protector here and she must stay in his company until the moment when she needed protection from him.
Although the beer was light, it came in huge, silver-lidded tankards. Alexa, unused to drinking, first of all fought against her increasing light-headedness and then succumbed to it. Someone was playing a piano loudly in a dark corner, and soon everyone was singing. Without knowing the words, Alexa was quick to pick up the tunes. One of the students, who had been scribbling something at the end of the long table, presented it to her with a click of his heels, and called out to the pianist. He had written a poem for her, Alexa saw. She flushed with pleasure as she read it – for by now her German was fluent – and realized that she was being invited to sing it.
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