Alissa Baxter

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by The Dashing Debutante


  “It is the same for me, Sir Charles,” Alexandra said warmly. “I am embarrassed to say that I miss my faithful mare, Starlight, far more than I do my aunt who remains at Grantham Place. A shameful state of affairs, indeed!”

  “Do you intend to ride when you are in London, Miss Grantham?”

  “I do. I have arranged for Starlight to be brought to London. I am fairly aching to exercise my limbs, you know. The sedentary way of life of a town-dweller is not for me.”

  “Feeling a trifle cramped, Miss Grantham?” Sir Charles asked, with a sympathetic smile.

  “Yes, I am,” Alexandra admitted frankly. “At home, I had the advantage of enjoying far more freedom than a young girl in London is allowed. The majority of gentlemen I have been introduced to in London treat me as though I were a piece of fragile porcelain. I believe that they fear I may break — so solicitous are they in their attentions!”

  “You cannot blame them entirely, my dear. You have a marked air of fragility about you.”

  “Well, it is deceptive, then,” Alexandra said smartly. “I am as strong as an ox, you know, and I dislike being thought of as a helpless creature, unable to take care of herself. The very idea is nonsensical!”

  Sir Charles chuckled. “If you flash your eyes like that at your numerous suitors, my dear, they will very soon come to realise that fact.” As he spoke, Sir Charles caught sight of a lady waving imperiously at him, and drew the curricle up to the side of the carriageway.

  Alexandra suppressed a sigh when she saw that the ladies making their way over to Sir Charles’s curricle were none other than Mrs Hadley, and her daughter, Jane. She brightened a little, however, when she saw that her dear friend Emily, Mrs Hadley’s stepdaughter, was also with them. Another lady of middle years, who was unknown to her, accompanied the Hadleys.

  Mrs Hadley smiled affably as she stopped beside the carriage. “My dear Miss Grantham. How delightful it is to see you again! I hope that you are well? May I present my sister, Mrs Morecombe, to you? Edith — Miss Alexandra Grantham, a neighbour from home, and a dear friend of my daughters.”

  Mrs Morecombe smiled thinly. “Miss Grantham,” she murmured, inclining her head.

  “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, ma’am,” Alexandra said politely. She smiled at Jane and Emily, before turning her attention to Mrs Hadley. “I am perfectly well, thank you, Mrs Hadley. I trust that you had a good journey to London?”

  “Oh yes, thank you. A very good journey, indeed. You left earlier than planned, did you not?”

  “I did, ma’am. Grandmama arrived earlier than expected and, before I knew what she was about, whisked me off to London.” Looking at Sir Charles, Alexandra continued, “Mrs Hadley, Jane and Emily, you must allow me to introduce my companion to you — Sir Charles Fotherby.”

  Sir Charles bowed politely and said, “Delighted to make your acquaintance, ladies. Mrs Morecombe and I have met,” he added with a formal nod in Mrs Morecombe’s direction when Mrs Hadley made to introduce her sister to him.

  “Indeed, it is quite like my dear sister to be acquainted with all the most charming people in London, Sir Charles,” Mrs Hadley said in a complacent voice. “You, of course, know that she cuts quite a figure in Polite Circles. She has a vast acquaintance, and I am relying on her to pave the way for us socially. Jane and I are also acquainted with his grace, the Duke of Stanford, which should aid us. Are you on terms with the Duke, Sir Charles?”

  Sir Charles stiffened. “I am acquainted with his grace, but stand on more familiar terms with his younger brother, Stephen, who is closer to my age,” he said coolly.

  “Of course, of course. You look to be quite a young man. Miss Grantham, my dear,” Mrs Hadley continued, looking archly up at Alexandra. “I do hope that you haven’t been boring Sir Charles by regaling him with tales of Ancient Greece, and so forth. You must know, Sir Charles, that our dear Miss Grantham is reputed to be something of a bluestocking — when she is not participating in all sorts of manly sports. We are all proud of her ability to forsake all feminine accomplishments in favour of scholarship and outdoor pursuits.”

  Sir Charles raised his brows. “Miss Grantham is indeed a remarkable young woman. In fact, I am sure she will become quite sought after in London. Ladies.” Sir Charles bowed politely, then prepared to set the horses in motion, leaving his companion to make her somewhat stilted farewells.

  Mrs Hadley, staring after the retreating carriage with narrowed eyes, said coldly when Sir Charles and Alexandra were out of earshot, “The hussy! Stealing a march on you, Jane, by coming up to London early and making the acquaintance of all the eligible males before we had even arrived! She always was a sly one. But rest assured, my dear, that Miss Alexandra Grantham of Grantham Place will soon be cast in the shade. Your beauty will draw the young men, and of course the Duke of Stanford, to your side in droves! And when the London gentlemen find out, as I shall make sure they do, about Miss Grantham’s disgraceful behaviour at home — she will be cast out of Society!”

  Mrs Hadley’s malicious intention to tarnish Alexandra’s reputation, however, came very close to bearing no fruit because, in spite of Mrs Hadley’s assertions to the contrary, her sister had very little influence in Polite Circles. Edith Morecombe was a woman of sour disposition and ill nature. When Mr Geoffrey Morecombe had wedded the then pretty Miss Edith Stubbs some twenty years before, it had been the general consensus amongst his acquaintances that he had married beneath himself. His wife was now tolerated because of her connection to the Morecombe family, who held a name of the first respectability, but she was certainly not a popular figure on the London scene. Therefore, Mrs Hadley’s plans to depress Alexandra’s budding popularity were dealt a blow from the start. Certainly, there were murmurings put about by Mrs Morecombe of the doubtful respectability of the Grantham girl, but she had the ear of very few people of influence, and the initial sparks of the rumours went out like a dampened squib.

  Unfortunately, Alexandra managed to set up the back of the one person in Polite Society who was in a position to spread Mrs Hadley’s rumours — Sir Jason Morecombe, Mrs Morecombe’s brother-in-law. Sir Jason, renowned for his maliciously witty observations, was feared by nearly all the members of the ton. He delighted in creating mischief and had, on more than one occasion, stopped the career of a hopeful débutante successfully before it had begun. Very few people were brave enough (or foolish enough) to purposefully offend him.

  Alexandra, however, succeeded in doing just that. Sir Jason, who had heard of Alexandra’s swift rise to popularity, and was intrigued by the scandalous tales his sister-in-law was intent on spreading, begged Lady Beauchamp, at a party one evening, to introduce him to her beautiful protegée. Lady Beauchamp, understandably reluctant to present such a potentially dangerous man to her granddaughter, nonetheless performed the introductions, aware that she had little choice in the matter. She was justifiably vexed when, at this untimely moment, one of her acquaintances hailed her and she was obliged to move away, leaving Alexandra alone with the baronet.

  Alexandra, regarding the man in front of her, suppressed a shiver of distaste. Sir Jason reminded her strongly of a lizard she had once seen basking in the sun, with his hooded pale blue eyes, and sandy coloured hair. His skin had a sallow tinge, and his thin lips were twisted in a cruel grimace. Even his hands had a peculiarly wrinkled look to them, Alexandra noticed, as he raised his quizzing glass to his eye, and surveyed her through it.

  Alexandra, disliking the insolent nature of the appraisal she was being subjected to, haughtily raised her brows. When Sir Jason eventually lowered the quizzing glass, she said coldly, “I trust that I meet with your approval, Sir?”

  Sir Jason’s lids dropped even lower over his eyes. “I am unaccustomed, Miss Grantham, to a young woman, of your tender years, speaking to me in such a tone. I would advise you to put a guard on your tongue, if you do not wish to be perceived as a coming young Miss.”

  Alexandra frowned. “I object to being looked
over like a piece of prime horseflesh, Sir Jason!”

  “I would think that you were — ah — used to such appraisals, Miss Grantham.”

  “ I think you mistake me for a lady of a somewhat different class, Sir Jason.”

  Again Sir Jason raised his quizzing glass to his eye. He smiled, a cruel smile, and said softly as he lowered it once more, “Oh — I think not, Miss Grantham. From what I have heard of you, you are a young woman of … let us say — somewhat elastic morals.”

  Alexandra drew in her breath sharply. “Sir! You insult me! I — I — Who has been spreading such falsehoods?”

  “Are they falsehoods, Miss Grantham?” Sir Jason said softly. “My information is from a most reliable source — my respected sister-in-law, no less, has told me that you were wont to meet the Vicar alone in his house, with no one to chaperone you. Disgraceful conduct, I must say! Also, that you were in the habit of traipsing around the countryside on your own, and meeting Sir George Durbridge clandestinely on his estate.” Sir Jason, pausing in his speech, withdrew a snuffbox from the pocket of his coat. He opened the enamelled box, and after taking a pinch of snuff and delicately inhaling it, looked at Alexandra again. “Have you nothing to say in response to these accusations, Miss Grantham?” he sneered.

  Alexandra’s fingers clenched tightly around the fan she held in her hands, but the agitation she was labouring under was not betrayed in her voice as she replied, “I shall not dignify your insinuations with a response, Sir Jason. Now, if you will excuse me....”

  Her mind a jumble of confused thoughts, Alexandra made her way blindly over to where her grandmother was standing in conversation with Lady Armstrong. Lady Beauchamp, taking one look at her granddaughter’s white face, brought the conversation to a swift close, and shepherded her charge out of the crush and into an ante-chamber. Fortunately, no one was in the room, and Lady Beauchamp, chafing Alexandra’s icy hands, said urgently, “What is it, my love? You look unwell. Did Sir Jason say something to distress you? Drat the man! I know he has an acid tongue, but you must not let him upset you so!”

  Alexandra drew a shuddering breath. “Oh, Grandmama, he said the most dreadful things! I cannot believe that anyone could have such a vile mind.” Alexandra then proceeded to tell Lady Beauchamp all that Sir Jason had said. “But, Grandmama, there is no truth in his accusations,” she said indignantly. “The Vicar is seventy years old! He is a great scholar and he tutored John and me for many years. When John was too ill to attend our lessons, I went alone. But, there was nothing improper in this! The Vicar’s wife was in the library all the time I was there! And regarding Sir George Durbridge, he was an old friend of Papa’s, and on his request, gave me permission to fish in the stream on his estate. I did not take a groom with me on these occasions, thinking it unnecessary. Now, I wish I had done so! Sir Jason has made perfectly innocent incidents appear dreadfully compromising.”

  Lady Beauchamp shook her head. “My dear child, these rumours are ridiculous! Quite ridiculous! What I cannot understand, Alexandra, is how they came about! Who could bear you so much ill-will that they would purposefully attempt to blacken your name in this way?”

  Alexandra bit her lip, then replied quietly, “I believe that it may be Mrs Hadley, Grandmama. Mrs Hadley’s sister is Mrs Morecombe, Sir Jason’s sister-in-law...”

  Lady Beauchamp’s eyes narrowed in understanding. “Of course! Mrs Hadley! She always did view you with a jealous eye, Alexandra, because you outshone that plain daughter of hers. But to spread such rumours! It is wickedness beyond belief, my child! Wickedness!”

  “Mrs Hadley, it seems, was careful to omit from her tales the fact that the Vicar tutored me,” Alexandra said. “Obviously she considers this detail not salacious enough. Bluestockings are seldom loose women.” Alexandra wearily shook her head. “Does this mean that I shall have to return home in disgrace, Grandmama?”

  Lady Beauchamp stiffened. “Indeed no, my dear! I have a certain amount of consequence in Polite Circles, you know, and no one would dare to snub my granddaughter! All the same, I shall speak to a few of the Patronesses of Almack’s and tell them the true state of affairs. Lady Sefton and Lady Jersey, I am certain, will oblige me by championing you when they know that the Hadley woman has been spreading tales. They have expressed their approval of you, you know. So, do not fret, my love!”

  Lady Beauchamp was relieved to see that a little colour came back into her granddaughter’s cheeks at these words. But, although she had stoutly denied it, Lady Beauchamp was more worried about this sudden turn of events than she would allow Alexandra to see. Wise in the ways of the world, she knew the damage that even a breath of scandal attached to a young débutante’s name could do to her social career. Sir Jason’s tongue was poisonous, indeed, and, by spreading Mrs Hadley’s stories, he could do great harm to Alexandra’s reputation. Lady Beauchamp sighed heavily. The ton derived great pleasure from discussing the latest on-dits. She, too, over the years, had enjoyed her fair share of gossip, but, as she was fast coming to realise, it was a totally different matter when one was personally involved! Lady Beauchamp’s spirits lifted a little, however, when she remembered that Robert had promised to launch Alexandra into fashion. In the Polite World, the Duke of Stanford had far greater influence than Sir Jason Morecombe. His promised sponsorship of Alexandra, Lady Beauchamp reflected, could prove to be her granddaughter’s salvation.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The Season began in earnest the following week with the first of the Almack’s subscription balls. On this most important of occasions Lady Beauchamp knew that it was vital for Alexandra to make a good impression on the ton. She realised how easy it was for a girl, no matter how beautiful, to get “lost” in the crowd of young ladies making their first appearance in London. And, although the Duke of Stanford had promised to bring Alexandra into fashion, Lady Beauchamp was well aware that he considered Almack’s to be extremely dull sport, and would in all probability not be present to pave the social path for her granddaughter.

  She decided that for Alexandra to stand out from the crowd, she must embrace a completely different look from that adopted by the average débutante. So, instead of having one of the traditional pastel coloured gowns favoured by so many young ladies made up for Alexandra, Lady Beauchamp had commissioned Madame Fanchon instead to design a gown of emerald green silk trimmed with silver filigree work for Alexandra to wear on her formal introduction to the beau monde. And, proudly watching her granddaughter descend the stairs on the night of her first ball, Lady Beauchamp congratulated herself on a decision well made. Alexandra looked exceedingly lovely. The high-waisted style of the gown emphasized her willowy figure, the colour of the silky material contrasting strikingly with her luminous skin, and accentuating the brightness of her eyes. A becoming flush which owed nothing to rouge, and everything to excitement, tinged her cheeks, and nothing could disguise the fact that Alexandra Grantham carried off the stunning gown with a poise that was innately the essence of her allure.

  Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs Alexandra impulsively embraced her grandmother and, smiling fondly at her, said in a soft voice, “Thank you, Grandmama, for making this all possible.”

  Lady Beauchamp, rather touched, replied gruffly, “Nonsense, child. It is my pleasure. Bringing you out has brought back all the excitement of my first Season, and has given me a renewed zest for life.” Indicating to Leighton that they were ready to take their cloaks, she continued, “Now let us depart, my love. The doors of Almack’s close strictly at eleven, and nothing will induce the Patronesses to allow anyone in after that set time.”

  Entering the rather bare and unassuming rooms of Almack’s a while later, Alexandra wondered in surprise why the ton made such a great fuss about the club. She had imagined something grander, more impressive than the rather plain, sparsely furnished ballroom with which she was confronted. Commenting on this to her grandmother, she received an admonishing look from that lady, who whispered, “Do not let the Patrones
ses hear you make any disparaging comments about these hallowed portals, my dear. It matters nothing what these rooms look like. It is Almack’s’ exclusivity that counts,” and so saying, she turned aside to greet an old friend who had hailed her as she entered the room.

  Standing dutifully at Lady Beauchamp’s side as she conversed with her crony, Alexandra looked around the room and noticed that her usual coterie of admirers were present. These gentlemen, who had been eagerly awaiting their goddess’s arrival, upon catching sight of Alexandra descended on her en masse, and within minutes her dance card was full, with the exception, of course, of the two forbidden waltzes. Alexandra, who had expected the number of her admirers to drop off after the episode with Sir Jason Morecombe, was pleasantly surprised that the rumours had apparently not come to their ears. What Alexandra did not know was that many of her suitors had heard the gossip, but were of the opinion that as Miss Grantham had been granted vouchers to Almack’s there could be little truth in them. And, although a great many of their respective female relatives were intent on uttering dark warnings to them about Miss Grantham’s doubtful reputation, her admirers were inclined to disregard them. Miss Grantham was far too beautiful a young heiress to be ignored.

  A short while later Alexandra, partnered by a rather shy young cavalier, was twirling down the room in the first of the country dances, and trying to appear interested in his rather stilted attempts at conversation, when she became aware of a stir at the entrance to the ballroom. Wondering at the sudden buzz of excitement spreading through the room she glanced casually at the doors, and abruptly stiffened when she saw the reason for the disturbance. Standing nonchalantly in conversation with Lady Jersey was the Duke of Stanford! She stared at him in surprise. Stanford was the last person she had expected to see that evening, and the very last person that she wished to see! Jerking her gaze away from him Alexandra stared fixedly in front of her, hoping against all hope that the Duke would not approach her. She was puzzled as to why Stanford had decided to grace Almack’s with his distinguished presence — it was a well known fact that he very rarely visited the exclusive club. Becoming aware that her dancing partner was saying something to her, Alexandra abandoned her line of thought, and rather abstractedly returned her attention to him.

 

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