The Runaway Chaperone: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Alice Kirks

  “Yes, of course,” she whispered, though he thought that she looked more worried, if anything. “I am sure I will be feeling much better, by then.” She looked away, clearly feeling uncomfortable.

  Matthew turned away as she curtseyed and then left, going over to the window along with Arabella. He drew out a seat from under the big table and sat down. It looked as if they were going to have more time for practicing sonatas. And he would have to find something to do, or read, for the next hour.

  “I’m sorry, Arabella,” he said. He hadn’t meant to postpone their outing for an hour.

  “No matter,” she said, and went to the piano. “Of course, Alexandra still feels poorly from yesterday.”

  Matthew nodded and set aside his worries. Arabella had instantly realized what he should have done yesterday. Of course, Alexandra would be too tired for their plans. It had been rather thoughtless of him to press her into accompanying Arabella to the village this morning.

  “Yes,” he agreed softly. “I’m sure that she does.”

  She would feel all right in an hour, he was sure. And then they could go to the village and then, finally, when the dresses were made and the preparations at the London house, to make it habitable again, were complete, they would hurry off to London.

  And there, Matthew was sure, Alexandra would be safe.

  Chapter 24

  Alexandra went upstairs and sat down on the bed. She couldn’t stop the ache of fear that twisted inside her, making her need to run. She was going to go to London. And there, there was high chance someone would recognize her.

  I don’t know what to do.

  As it was, she was lucky that she’d never personally met his Grace in society. She was sure she’d met at least ten out of the perhaps fifty guests who would be at Almack’s. How likely was it, though, that they would think of her being in the position of service?

  She would have to hope that the Ton would simply avoid looking at her.

  “And if somebody I know sees me?”

  She shook her head. This was part of the job she hadn’t considered at first. What would happen if she had to escort her charge to a high society gathering?

  “This is ridiculous!”

  She stood up, feeling furious with herself. How could she have signed up as a chaperone and not anticipated this?

  But what other choice did she have?

  “No recriminations. Just try and think of something!”

  She walked to the window. Where could she go if she ran away? She’d made provision with her aunt to go there, should she need to escape. If she could get a carriage to York, she could disappear into the northern moors and never be found.

  But what about Lord Blakeley?

  She shut her eyes. It was maybe foolish of her, but she knew she didn’t want to leave. Why would she?

  In York, she might be safe and free, but what use was that freedom if he wasn’t there?

  “Now, that is foolish. You’re reading too much of Shelley and the other poets.”

  All the same, she knew she was only scorning it because she was afraid. She knew she was right.

  She didn’t want to be free without him.

  “So. In that case, you’re going to London.”

  She sighed. What else could she do? She had to go. The thought of going filled her with absolute terror. She could so easily bump into Lord Nailsworth, or someone else she knew. It was unlikely she’d bump into her father – he didn’t tend to socialize much. But the risk of seeing someone who knew her real identity was far from inconsequential.

  “And if I do? I’ll just have to hope nobody recognizes me.”

  In which case, she decided, looking in the mirror, full chaperone’s uniform was essential. The more severe and unstylish the gown, the less likely it was that anybody would think she could be Lady Alexandra.

  She felt her fear give way to a playful sensation – just for a moment. What if nobody did recognize her? The part of her that loved to learn was excited to find out what would happen.

  “I feel ready to go, now.”

  The thought of successfully infiltrating London society without anybody knowing who she was made the trip seem less terrifying. At least it was another reason to go.

  She fixed her hair and then tiptoed down the hallway to the schoolroom, to check the clock. She still had half an hour left before their departure to the village. She went to find her charge.

  “Lady Arabella?”

  “Alexandra!” Arabella jumped up from the chair, where she’d been sitting in the drawing-room sewing. She ran to Alexandra and looked up at her. “Are you feeling better? Shall we still go out?”

  “Of course,” Alexandra said. “I thought we could spend some time learning that dance we meant to learn yesterday.”

  “The Polonaise?” Arabella clapped her hands.

  “Yes. Shall we try here?” Alexandra suggested. “I’ll clap the rhythm.”

  They started dancing, with Alexandra at first clapping and then, when she needed her hands, counting it.

  “Arabella?” a resonant voice called. Alexandra felt her face flush as she recognized the Duke. “Where are you?”

  “Here! We’re having a lovely time,” Arabella called back.

  Alexandra, chest heaving from the exertion, leaned back against the wall. She knew she was flushed, and she saw the Duke look across at her, and her heart thumped at the intensity in his eyes as they alighted on her.

  “You have been dancing?”

  “Yes,” Alexandra said in a low voice.

  Their eyes held and her heart thumped wildly as he stepped forward. He was looking into her gaze and she thought that they might actually kiss.

  “Brother! Can we have a ball here?” Arabella asked, interrupting the moment. Alexandra let out a relieved outbreath. She wouldn’t have known what to do if he had kissed her – there would have been no going back, after that.

  “Of course, we can,” he agreed. “Why should we not? But only after we come back from London. There should be plenty of time to host something here before the season ends.”

  “Good!” Arabella said happily. “Now. Are we going to the village?”

  The Duke raised a brow and Alexandra shared a smile. “Yes, my impatient sibling,” he grinned at Arabella.

  “Good!” she said and grinned at him. “And I’m not that impatient. Not really.”

  The Duke and Alexandra grinned at each other and Arabella looked at them both and then burst into giggles.

  “All right,” she said. “If you both say so, then I suppose it must be so.” She was laughing, though, and Alexandra and the Duke laughed with her. Arabella impulsively put her arm around her shoulders and, with her heart feeling lighter than it had all morning, Alexandra walked down with her towards the coach.

  They would go to the village to buy cloth. And soon, they would go to London.

  And if anybody saw her there, and recognized her there, it would be so much harder to evade.

  Chapter 25

  Alexandra looked out of the window of the coach. The landscape had given way to houses, plastered and low-roofed. The day had turned to a cool late afternoon, settling down to evening. She stared.

  “We’re in London,” the Duke whispered.

  Alexandra looked across at him. Arabella, seated beside her brother in the coach, was fast asleep. They had only been traveling an hour, but they’d set off after a large lunch and the rocking motion had clearly helped his sister go to sleep.

  They smiled at each other.

  Alexandra felt herself become breathless. She was acutely aware of him opposite her, his leg so close to her own she could almost feel the pressure from his boot against her calf. He raised a brow.

  “Looks like we are almost there,” he whispered. “And alone, for the next five minutes.”

  “Yes,” Alexandra agreed. He leaned forward and again she could not help but be aware of how close his body was to her own, how she could almost reach out and touch him.
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br />   “When we get to London, you must tell me if there is anything that frightens you,” he murmured.

  Alexandra raised a brow. She had not expected that. How had he noticed her discomfort?

  She nodded. “I will. I do not think that there will be any cause for fear.”

  “I do not mean to cast aspersions on your courage, Miss,” he grinned. “But I understand London society can be daunting.”

  Alexandra relaxed a little. So, he had no reason to think she was afraid of being caught out! He had simply assumed she would be nervous of the important people they would meet. She wanted to smile, but at the same time, she was genuinely appreciative of his caring.

  “Thank you,” she said. “I will do so.”

  “Thank you,” he said.

  They looked at each other and again Alexandra was aware of that silent communion; the way that they often seemed to speak without saying anything. Her heart ached as he reached out a hand towards hers.

  She let her fingers rest on his. He looked at them, his fingers loosely clasping them for a moment, the gesture so tender she thought her heart would melt. Then, as Arabella sniffed and moved, they moved their hands back.

  Alexandra looked out of the window, heart thumping. He’d actually taken her hand! It was a small intimacy, compared to those of the previous days, when he’d lifted her up in the forest, or kissed her. But she could barely control the wild beating of her heart.

  “That’s Blakely Hall,” he murmured.

  Alexandra looked out of the window. They had stopped in front of a tall, slim-built townhouse in the Kensington area. It was faced with stone and had a short flight of steps leading to the front door. It was, she thought, very stylish.

  “Are we there?” Arabella murmured.

  Alexandra grinned and the Duke lit up.

  “Yes,” he said, beaming at Arabella and Alexandra both. “We are here.”

  “Good. I’m sleepy,” Arabella said.

  Alexandra and the Duke both smiled at each other fondly.

  “Yes,” the Duke said. “And now I’ll help you out and we can go in and rest. Shall I call for a bath to be sent up for you?”

  “A bath! Good. That would be lovely,” Arabella said.

  Alexandra looked up at the Duke as he stood by the coach door, Arabella still supporting herself on his shoulder. Once they were all alighted from the coach, they walked up to the front door. Alexandra couldn’t help the knot in her stomach that was part anticipation, part fear.

  Now we’re here in London, and there is no escape.

  If anybody were going to spot her, they would spot her soon.

  She felt her heart pounding as she went up the stairs. Their townhouse was also in Kensington, but closer to the Opera House. The likelihood of her father seeing her here was quite small, though the possibility made her insides twist. She looked up as the coach turned in the street to go into the coach-house.

  “Good evening? Ah, your Grace. You are safely arrived,” the butler greeted smoothly. Alexandra recognized him. She remembered why – he’d conducted the interview for the job, though she’d been here after dark and not had time to see the townhouse.

  “Yes, Mr. Leighford. If you’ll take the luggage up?” he gestured to the two big cases that had been left on the pavement behind them.

  “Yes, your Grace,” the man said, bowing low.

  Alexandra stood back for Arabella to go in ahead of her, and then stared up at the soaring ceiling and the black-and-white floor.

  “I’ll go upstairs and check that all is in order,” the Duke murmured to her. “If you could go up to your rooms?” He addressed Alexandra and his sister.

  “Yes, brother!” Arabella murmured. “Oh! This is so exciting! Shall we go out tonight?”

  “Yes,” her brother agreed. “We are invited to a small reception at the Duke of Lonsea’s home. But it shan’t last long.”

  “Good!” Arabella said. She looked up at Alexandra. “Oh, isn’t this exciting! My first real reception-party!”

  Alexandra smiled. She squeezed Arabella’s hand. “Yes, it is exciting. Shall I come up when you’re dressed?”

  “Yes!” Arabella nodded. “I want you to be there when Brenna’s styling my hair. I still haven’t decided how to style it.”

  “I’d be happy to help,” Alexandra assured her.

  They had arrived three hours before dinner, so they had a moment to themselves to refresh themselves – and take a bath, if they wished – while dinner was set out. Alexandra used the time to unpack her small case, hanging up her dresses carefully in the wardrobe.

  “There. That’ll do the trick.”

  She looked around the room. It was a better room than the one at the house in Blakeley, since there were few servants’ rooms in the townhouse, and this was actually in the guest section of the house. She sat down on the bed, feeling weary and more than a little frightened.

  “No need. Nobody will recognize me in those, I’m sure.”

  She looked at the dresses she had made. They were black or dark blue, high-necked and long-sleeved, highly unmodish. She was sure nobody would even look twice at her in those. With her hair pulled back severely, and even her arms hidden all the way to the wrist, nobody would think of her anything other than what she pretended to be.

  She lay down on the bed and fell asleep.

  “Miss?” someone called outside her door. “Will you come down to dinner?”

  “Yes. Thank you,” she murmured.

  Dinner was brief – just a cold supper of bread, cheeses and boiled eggs; something to relieve the hunger of the journey and to make sure they would not be too hungry before the reception started. Arabella was bouncing in her seat, barely able to sit still for the excitement of the day.

  “I can’t wait! Oh, Alexandra! Isn’t it wonderful, to partake of society as a real grown person?”

  Alexandra grinned, though her heart was also more than a little sorrowful. She had been able to take part in London society for a good few years, but all that she had experienced was misery and fear. She wanted Arabella’s experience to be good.

  “Yes,” she agreed, pushing aside her fears. “Yes, it is. And tonight, it will be a wonderful start.”

  “I’m so excited!”

  Alexandra saw the Duke smile, too, though his eyes were also distant. She wondered how he felt about it.

  After dinner, she went upstairs to dress. She washed her face, took off her traveling-gown of cream patterned muslin and then reached for the stiff black gown she would wear as chaperone.

  “There. Or maybe the blue? I should save the black for when it’s essential nobody sees me.” She would blend in with the servants in black and she decided to wear the blue. Almack’s would require the black gown.

  “Alexandra!” Arabella called. “Are you ready?”

  Alexandra, who was in the hallway just before the bedrooms, ran down and stopped. She stared. Before her stood a young lady, hesitant and dressed in a pale muslin gown, her long hair loose around her shoulders, her gentle face a picture of expectant loveliness.