Alissa Baxter

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by The Dashing Debutante


  She almost dropped the pistol when the gentleman turned his head and she found herself staring into the face of Robert Chanderly. Alexandra remained motionless, quite unable to believe the perverseness of fate that had led her to hold up the only person in the whole county who suspected her. The silence between them seemed to stretch to an eternity as Alexandra waited for him to do or at least say something. And then everything seemed to happen at once. There was a thunder of hooves, and within an instant, even as Alexandra was looking frantically around her, she was surrounded by three men on horseback, wearing the distinctive red waistcoats of the Bow Street Runners.

  One of the Runners carried a wooden tipstaff, in the form of a short mace, on top of which was a metal receptacle. He rode closer to her and in the stern voice of the Law, said, “I carry with me here a warrant for your arrest.”

  Alexandra’s gaze flew from the tipstaff the man held in his hand to the truncheons the other Runners were carrying, and she wondered wildly if by firing a shot in the air she could somehow distract them and make her escape. But before she could do anything, Robert Chanderly said quietly, “I am afraid, gentlemen, that you have made a somewhat regrettable mistake.”

  Four pairs of eyes turned to look at him. Finally the man carrying the tipstaff, whom Alexandra assumed to be the most senior of the Runners, spoke, “I do not understand your meaning, sir?”

  Mr Chanderly waved a hand in Alexandra’s general direction, “The person you see before you is not in fact one of the thieves you are looking for but my tiger, intent on playing a practical joke on me. That horse he is riding belongs to me. Of late he has developed a — er — unhealthy obsession with the idea of being a highwayman, having heard about the thieves at work in this district. I forbade him to try his hand at it when he expressed a wish to do so recently, but as you can see he has out-rightly disobeyed my orders.”

  The Runner looked sharply from the man in the curricle to the small figure crouched on top of the horse. Finally, he said to Alexandra, “Is this true?”

  Gathering her wits together, Alexandra said in a broad accent, “Aye, guv’nor. Right sorry I am to have worried you, guv’nor.”

  The Runner looked at her in disgust. Shaking his head, he said, “I can see now that you are just a boy. I hope your master punishes you severely for pulling this prank and wasting the time of the Law.”

  Mr Chanderly nodded briefly. “Rest assured, he will be dealt with appropriately.”

  The chief Runner grunted before turning his horse around. “Wasting the time of the Law,” he muttered again, before setting his horse in motion. The other two Runners followed soon after him.

  When they were out of sight, Mr Chanderly said quietly, “Get down from that horse, Miss Grantham.”

  Alexandra started, causing her mount to jump skittishly. Tightening her hands on the reins, she stammered, “I — I don’t want to.”

  “Very well, then,” Mr Chanderly said. He descended from his curricle, and after securing the ribbons to the overhanging branch of a tree, strode across the road to her.

  Looking down at his formidably angry face, Alexandra swallowed nervously, and sent up a silent prayer of thanks that she had been wise enough to stay safely on her mount, out of harm’s way, but she had prayed too soon. Without warning, Mr Chanderly suddenly reached up and, in none too gentle a fashion, plucked her from the saddle and swung her down to the ground. Alexandra’s heart quickened as his arms closed around her and she tried anxiously to push him away, but her efforts were to no avail. Holding her with one arm, Mr Chanderly removed the mask from her face and stared down into her wide blue eyes.

  “Little fool,” he said in a harsh voice, before lowering his head to catch her lips in a hard kiss, meant to punish. Tears stung Alexandra’s eyes at this sudden and unwelcome assault on her senses, and she struggled to free herself from his embrace. But even as she was straining away from him, Mr Chanderly gentled the kiss. When he began to run his hands soothingly over her back, Alexandra felt the fight drain out of her as sensations she had never felt before started to race through her, making her body come alive. Everything else was forgotten in the moment except the warm feeling of his lips moving over hers, and his arms holding her close.

  But as abruptly as Mr Chanderly had begun the kiss, he ended it, drawing back. Alexandra blinked up at him in a dazed fashion, completely mesmerised by the fire she saw smouldering in his green eyes. After a moment, however, he pushed her away from him, and the glittering expression faded from his face, to be replaced by the mask of impassivity he usually wore.

  Alexandra drew a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. Her heart was still pounding, and a curious weakness seemed to have pervaded her limbs. She looked uncertainly at the man across from her, not knowing quite what to say. As an unmarried woman, her sensibilities ought to be outraged by the liberties he had dared to take with her, but being an innately fair person, Alexandra thought it would be a trifle ludicrous if she were to primly reprimand Mr Chanderly for his ungentlemanly conduct when she herself was attired in far from ladylike breeches, and had just attempted to hold him up.

  It was Mr Chanderly who finally broke the silence. “I think we need to talk about a few things, Miss Grantham, but this is hardly the time or place for a discussion. I shall call on you this afternoon.”

  “You — you do not intend telling my brother about this, do you, Mr Chanderly?” she asked, looking nervously up at him.

  Mr Chanderly raised an eyebrow. “About our kiss? No, Miss Grantham, I don’t,” he said in a dry voice.

  Alexandra flushed, and averted her eyes. “No — no. I mean, about my being a highwayman.”

  “I think I shall wait until I have heard what you have to say for yourself, before taking any action,” he replied slowly.

  Alexandra cleared her throat. “Um... My aunt will insist on chaperoning us, Mr Chanderly, so we shall not be able to have a private conversation. Could — could we not meet elsewhere?”

  He frowned at her. “I do not intend putting your reputation at further risk by meeting with you clandestinely, Miss Grantham.”

  “But if my aunt finds out about this...”

  Mr Chanderly sighed in the manner of a man whose patience had been pushed too far. “When I arrive, I shall profess an admiration for the fine grounds of Grantham Place, and you will offer to show me the gardens. We shall talk then.”

  Turning away from her, he freed the reins from the branch, and climbed back into his curricle, taking his seat. He looked across at Alexandra who had, in the meantime, mounted her steed again, and was busy arranging her feet in the stirrups, and waited until she was finally settled and had turned her attention to him again, before saying in an implacable voice, “I expect you to be at home when I call this afternoon, Miss Grantham. Don’t try and avoid me.”

  Setting his horses in motion, he drove off down the road, leaving Alexandra staring after him, her mind a mass of confused, unhappy thoughts.

  Chapter Seven

  Mr Chanderly called at three o’ clock that afternoon, and after he had paid his respects to Mrs Grantham, and had given in to her urging to join them for tea, Alexandra led him on his requested tour of the grounds. She showed him the Rose Garden and Conservatory first, before guiding him to a quiet alcove which overlooked a pretty pond where she knew they could converse in private. An ornamental iron garden seat, set upon a pedestal to avoid the damp ground, faced the pond, and Mr Chanderly waited for Alexandra to be seated before taking his place next to her.

  He studied her averted face for a moment, before saying in a quiet voice, “I await your explanation.”

  She glanced at him warily, then looked away. “But, you would not understand...”

  “I am waiting, Miss Grantham.”

  Alexandra sighed. “Very well, then.”

  She gazed out at the pleasant vista before her, but barely noticed the sloping lawns surrounding the pond, or the gardeners tending them, as she wondered how best to explain her acti
ons to this man. Finally, taking a deep breath, she raised her eyes to his again and began, “I am not sure if you are aware of it, Mr Chanderly, but many of the landowners in this district treat their labourers very badly. The Vicar’s wife, Mrs Simpson, told me a while ago of the terrible conditions in which some of their parishioners exist, and when I visited a few of the families, I was shocked to see that they are living in utter penury. I spoke to my brother about it, and he agreed to provide food baskets that I could deliver to the poor. But I soon realised that they needed more than just food to survive. They also needed blankets and clothes and other such things.” She paused for a moment, looking away from him. “My money is tied up in a trust fund until I either marry or attain my majority which means that I cannot help the peasants from my own purse. But I still wanted to do something to aid them. So — so I decided to obtain the funds they needed, but weren’t receiving, from the very people who were failing in their duties towards them — the local landowners.”

  “Poetic justice thereby being served,” Mr Chanderly concluded dryly.

  Alexandra studied her feet, not wanting to look at him, fearing the condemnation she knew she would see in his face. Finally, she said in a small voice, “I thought so.”

  Mr Chanderly was silent for a moment. Then putting his hand firmly on her wrist, he said, “Your actions, my dear, although well intentioned, are decidedly foolish. You must see that.”

  Alexandra’s heart fluttered. His touch brought to the fore the disturbing memory of his kiss that morning, something she had decided it would be in her best interests to forget. So, wriggling away from him, she moved to the opposite end of the garden seat, before replying, “I do not consider it foolish to help the poor, Mr Chanderly.”

  “No — but it is decidedly foolish to risk your life,” he said. Watching her calmly, he continued, “I do not intend to kiss you again, Miss Grantham — so you can stop looking at me like a frightened rabbit.”

  Alexandra’s eyes flew to his indignantly. “I do not look like a frightened rabbit!”

  Mr Chanderly smiled, and he said slowly, “No, you are correct — I was mistaken in my choice of animal... You look more like a wide eyed fawn, intent on escaping from a ruthless predator.”

  Alexandra sniffed. “Thank you, sir. A fawn is a far more acceptable animal to be compared to.”

  Mr Chanderly laughed, but after a moment his expression sobered. “I want you to give me your word, Miss Grantham, that you will immediately cease your highway activities. You were fortunate indeed that it was me you held up this morning, and not someone else.”

  Alexandra bit her lip. “I — I know. I am in your debt, indeed.” She eyed him uncertainly. “How did you guess it was me, Mr Chanderly?”

  “I noticed that first day when you held me up that your hands were very smooth and white. They did not belong to someone accustomed to rough, menial work. And your voice had a cultured intonation, though you tried to disguise it, so initially I assumed that you were a young gentleman, out for a lark.”

  “What made you change your mind?” Alexandra asked curiously.

  “You have a very expressive face, my dear. At Mrs Hadley’s party, when mention was made of the Bow Street Runners, you looked frightened and paled considerably. And when you looked across at me, with your large blue eyes, I suddenly realised why you had seemed so familiar that first day I met you.”

  “Oh,” Alexandra said, frowning slightly. “And I had believed my disguise to be impenetrable!” Shaking her head, she continued, “I am most grateful to you, sir, for coming to my rescue this morning.”

  “I could not very well have left you to the mercy of the Runners, although you undoubtedly deserve it for having terrorised the region in this manner,” he said sternly.

  Alexandra hung her head. “It — it was all for a good cause.”

  “A foolish cause,” he said shortly. “You have yet to give me your word, Miss Grantham, that you will cease your activities.”

  Alexandra sighed. “But if I do not help the peasants, they will be in a very bad way. I cannot leave them to such a harsh fate.”

  “There are other methods of helping them, that do not involve stealing for them.”

  She looked at him doubtfully. “What kind of methods? The local landowners have little inclination to institute reforms, you know.”

  “They might be open to persuasion. I know of many landlords in the country, the Duke of Bedford and the Earl of Egremont being of their number, who have devoted themselves to bettering the conditions of their tenants by teaching them the methods that can bring them prosperity.”

  “What did they do?” Alexandra inquired. Seeing him hesitate, she said sharply, “Before you tell me that a lady should not worry her pretty little head about farming, may I inform you that I am well acquainted with all matters that pertain to managing an estate, my father having taught them to me.”

  Mr Chanderly raised his brows. “I was not about to say anything of the sort,” he said calmly. “You are prickly.”

  Alexandra flushed. “Usually, the gentlemen of my acquaintance fail to take my opinions seriously. It annoys me considerably.”

  “I can see that,” he said dryly. “However, the reason for my hesitation was not the one that you assumed. I have another appointment this afternoon, and therefore do not have time to discuss this matter with you further. But, I shall endeavour to do so at a later date. In the meantime, I would like your reassurance that you will cease your activities forthwith.”

  Alexandra nodded her head. “I give you my word on that, Mr Chanderly.”

  “Good,” he said, standing up. Taking her hands, he drew her up from the seat, and holding them between both of his, he looked down at her intently.

  “I have been meaning to ask you who your accomplice was, Miss Grantham.”

  “My groom, Ben,” Alexandra replied. “He refused to aid me in my attack this morning, though, saying that with the Runners due to arrive, it was too dangerous.”

  “He was correct. I thought you would have had more sense than to attempt another robbery when you knew the Runners were in the district.”

  “I thought that they were only due to arrive at the end of the week,” Alexandra said defensively.

  “You should never rely on hearsay, Miss Grantham. You will learn that soon enough, no doubt, when you arrive in the capital. Rumours are rife there, and it is never wise to take them too seriously.”

  Alexandra withdrew her hands from his. “Of course,” she said shortly, her heart sinking at this mention of the London Season and the realisation that she would in all probability soon be moving in the same circles as this disturbing man.

  They walked back to the Manor together, and after Mr Chanderly had taken his leave of her, Alexandra went into the Drawing Room to be confronted by her aunt who said in an eager voice, “My dear child, do be seated so that we can discuss this latest turn of events! I am of the decided opinion that Mr Chanderly has averted his attentions from Jane Hadley to you!”

  Alexandra blinked. “I think, Aunt, that you are mistaken,” she said, sinking down on to the chaise longue.

  “Indeed, child, I am not. Remember that I am far wiser in the ways of the world than you are. When a gentleman starts calling on a lady, you can be sure that he is developing an interest in her.”

  Alexandra looked at a point somewhere above her aunt’s head. “Mr Chanderly merely wished to see the grounds of Grantham Place, Aunt Eliza. He has a keen interest in gardens.”

  “That was what he said, Alexandra, but you can be sure that that was not the principal reason he called on you. Oh my dear girl, I am quite delighted for you! Mr Chanderly is such a distinguished looking gentleman, and he is also possessed of a handsome fortune, I dare say.” She smiled complacently. “Mrs Hadley will not be pleased at this turn of events, but I was always doubtful of Jane’s chances of winning a proposal from Mr Chanderly. She is so very plain looking.”

  Alexandra looked at her aunt helple
ssly, knowing that it would be pointless to try to convince her that she was mistaken in her supposition. Nevertheless, she said in a firm voice, “Even if Mr Chanderly did wish to make me the object of his attentions, Aunt Eliza, I do not wish to enter the married state.”

  Mrs Grantham looked horrified. “My dear child, do not say such things. It is unnatural — indeed wicked — to speak thus. Imagine if someone were to hear you!”

  “Someone were to hear what?” John asked, coming into the room.

  Mrs Grantham threw her hands up in the air. “Dear John — perhaps you can reason with your sister. She has just informed me that she has no desire to find a husband!”

  John looked at his aunt with considerable amusement as he sat down. “Alexandra has always known her own mind, Aunt Eliza. Nothing that I can say will make her change it.”

  “But, dearest! For her to talk thus when she is about to go to London for the Season! It is improper. Most improper,” she said in a wavering voice.

  “I am sorry, Aunt, but I simply cannot see the purpose in getting married,” Alexandra said, shrugging her shoulders. “I enjoy my freedom and independence far too much to willingly give them up.”

  “But, dearest, what if you were to fall in love?”

  “I have every intention of avoiding that particular trap, Aunt,” Alexandra said firmly.

  “My dear, dear, child, you sadden me. Indeed you do,” Mrs Grantham said shaking her head mournfully. “You are sure to have a most wretched Season, holding such odd views. I merely hope that the gentlemen do not ostracise you!”

  John smiled. “Somehow, I doubt that will happen, Aunt Eliza. Alexandra’s lack of interest in the gentlemen of our circle has not prevented them from paying court to her. I have already refused three offers for her hand, and she is not even out yet!”

  Mrs Granthams’ face brightened a little. “Perhaps things will not be as bad as all that, then. I do wish for you to have an enjoyable Season, dearest.”

  “Thank you, Aunt,” Alexandra said gravely. “Rest assured that I shall contrive to find ways in which to amuse myself.”

 

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