Alissa Baxter

by The Dashing Debutante

  Alexandra, after she had bid him a formal goodbye, hurried upstairs to Lady Beauchamp’s bedchamber. Her ladyship often had a nap in the afternoons, and Alexandra found her there now, reclining on a day-bed. After apologising to her grandmother for disturbing her in her hour of rest, she said abruptly, “Grandmama, the Duke of Stanford has just informed me that you entertain great hopes of Sir Charles and I becoming betrothed before the end of the Season. I cannot understand why you said such a thing to him. His grace quizzed me about it when I went driving with him.”

  Lady Beauchamp yawned sleepily. “Did he, my dear? That is a charming bonnet you are wearing, Alexandra.” She put her head on one side and regarded her granddaughter. “Even though the price we paid for it was extortionate, I am of the considered opinion that it was well worth the expenditure. Blue really suits your colouring, my dear. And that afternoon dress you are wearing is quite lovely. Even though I say so myself, my dear, my taste in clothes is never far off. You present a very pretty picture.”

  “Thank you, Grandmama,” Alexandra said shortly, trying, rather unsuccessfully, to hide her impatience at her grandmother’s obvious avoidance of the subject. She regarded Lady Beauchamp in a perplexed fashion. “Are you hopeful of seeing me married to Sir Charles, Grandmama? Because, I am sorry to inform you that I do not regard him in the light of a suitor, if you do. He is merely a very good friend.”

  Lady Beauchamp settled herself more comfortably on the day-bed. “Well then, my dear, there is nothing more to be said on the matter then, is there?” Yawning again, she murmured, “Would you be so kind as to pass me that book on my bedside table? It is such an improving volume that it is sure to make me fall asleep. When we visit Hookham’s next, Alexandra, I wish to borrow Pride and Prejudice. It is reputed to be a very witty piece of work. Thank you, my love,” Lady Beauchamp said with a smile as Alexandra handed her the book. “Now you run along, dearest, and rest awhile in your bedchamber. We have a busy evening ahead of us.”

  Alexandra, seeing that her grandmother refused to be drawn, reluctantly withdrew from her bedchamber. She was totally bewildered by her unusual behaviour, but knew that it would be futile to ask her grandmother again about the mystifying nature of her remark to the Duke of Stanford. Because, although Lady Beauchamp had often declared that Alexandra was far too stubborn for her own good, this characteristic was just as much in evidence in her own nature as in her granddaughter’s. And Alexandra knew of old that once her grandmother had made up her mind about something she rarely, if ever, departed from the stance she had taken up.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Later that day, at a musical evening given by Lady Selby, Alexandra informed Sir Charles about the gossip linking their names together. The baronet’s unexpected reaction to the news left Alexandra wondering whether she had been mistaken in thinking that he merely viewed her as a friend.

  “But, Miss Grantham,” he said, frowning, “is the gossip so rampant that we must not be seen together at all?”

  Alexandra nodded her head. “Unfortunately, yes, Sir Charles. The Duke of Stanford told me this afternoon that many people expect us to become betrothed before the end of the Season.” Alexandra refrained from mentioning that his own godmother had been one of their number until recently. Sighing, she continued, “I’m sorry to say that our morning rides will have to cease. It is most vexing, but in order to put an end to such comment, it is necessary.” She smiled wryly. “The Duke has offered to accompany me instead. It is ironic, is it not, that when you accompanied me on my rides, the ton immediately supposed that you intended offering for me. When the Duke of Stanford does so, however, all they will say is that he is setting me up as his latest flirt!”

  Sir Charles looked searchingly at her. “Are you aware — that is — will Letty still accompany you on your rides on occasion?”

  Alexandra looked at Sir Charles in surprise. “I do not see why not, Sir Charles. Although her brother exasperates her sometimes, Letty is very fond of him, you know. She is sure to join us in the Park some mornings.”

  Sir Charles smiled. “Well then, Miss Grantham, the tongues of the gossip mongers cannot wag if I meet you there — quite by chance, of course — some mornings. A foursome, I suspect, will give rise to less talk than a party consisting of only three riders!” He laughed suddenly. “Either that, or gossip will arise linking Letty’s and my name together!”

  Alexandra shook her head. “In our world, indulging in speculation about other people’s lives is more natural to some people than breathing. I should not be surprised if such gossip did arise, Sir Charles.”

  “I wonder what Letty will say if her name is linked to mine?” Sir Charles said thoughtfully.

  Alexandra laughed. “Letty regards you in the light of a favourite brother, Sir Charles. She would think such rumours ridiculous, as indeed they would be.”

  “Yes, indeed,” Sir Charles said, frowning a little. Recollecting himself, he smiled at Alexandra. “Well, my dear, may I say that I shall miss our morning expeditions together? You are a young woman of remarkable sense, you know. Not many ladies of my acquaintance are as well educated or as intelligent as you are.”

  Alexandra, her eyes dancing, put a finger to her lips. “You must promise not to let it become known that I am a bluestocking, Sir Charles. My continued social success rests entirely in your hands!”

  “Never fear, Miss Grantham. Your secret is safe with me,” Sir Charles said, grinning.

  Alexandra curtseyed. “Thank you, kind sir. I am most obliged to you!”

  Catching sight of Letitia across the room at this moment, Alexandra bade Sir Charles a cordial goodbye, before making her way over to where her friend was sitting.

  Letitia smiled when she saw Alexandra approaching her. “Alex! Pray sit down beside me. Cousin Amelia has just this moment gone to speak to your grandmother, so we can enjoy a comfortable cose together before she returns.”

  Alexandra sat down in the chair her friend indicated. “How are you, Letty?” she asked. “Are you in better spirits than when I saw you last?”

  Letitia shrugged her shoulders pettishly. “I am still angry with Sir Charles. He had no right to take me to task as he did. But, let us speak of more pleasant subjects, Alex. That is a lovely evening dress you are wearing. Is it new?”

  Alexandra glanced down at her person. She was wearing a white crape tunic over a white satin slip, the front of which was fastened with a wreath of pale yellow roses and trimmed round the edge with lace. She nodded her head. “Yes, indeed. Madame Fanchon made it up for me.”

  “Cousin Amelia thinks that Madame Fanchon is the best modiste in town. I am inclined to agree with her. Certainly, you look very well in her creations. I think...” Letitia broke off at this point, and scowled quite terribly at something over Alexandra’s shoulder.

  “What is the matter, Letty?” Alexandra asked, startled.

  “She is back in town! Oh, I might have guessed that she would return and try and get her clutches into Robert! She’s the most vile, contemptible, grasping creature alive...”

  “Who is, Letty?” Alexandra interrupted.

  Letitia scowled again. “Lavinia Furlough! Her father is the Earl of Camden. I like the Earl and his wife, but Lavinia is quite awful!”

  Responding to Alexandra’s enquiring look, she explained, “At one time, it was clear for all to see that Lavinia had hoped to marry Robert. I was still in the schoolroom, of course, but my elder sister, Serena, told me how she made a positive spectacle of herself trying to entrap him. When she realised that Robert had no intention of marrying her, she accepted an offer from the Marquis of Barrington, instead, an elderly man with an enormous fortune. He died a year or so ago, and when Mama and I visited Lavinia at her parents’ home to offer her our condolences, she showed no signs of unhappiness. She merely said that her husband had been very old, and that it was better that he had died a sudden death, instead of lingering on, being a nuisance to everybody. She spoke thus of her own husband, Alex
!”

  “How very callous!” Alexandra said, shocked.

  “Yes — she is a vile creature. So condescending and full of all manner of airs and graces. Oh no!” Letitia exclaimed suddenly, her face a picture of dismay. “She is making her way over here!” She looked frantically about her. “Where can I hide, Alex? Quickly! I have no desire to exchange meaningless civilities with that woman.” Letitia, however, was too late. A few moments later, Lady Barrington was upon them.

  “Letty, my dear. How lovely it is to see you again. You have grown up since I last saw you!”

  Letitia raised her nose in the air, becoming suddenly every inch a duke’s daughter. “Lady Barrington.” She nodded her head coolly. “I hope that you are well. May I present my good friend, Alexandra Grantham, to you? Alexandra, Lady Barrington.”

  Alexandra nodded to the woman standing before them, and greeted her politely. Lady Barrington looked to be in her middle twenties. Taller than the average woman, she was also very slender, with an erect carriage. Hers was not a pretty face, but she was generally held to be a handsome woman by her acquaintance. She smiled now at Alexandra. “Miss Grantham! I have heard so much about you! You are the child that Stanford has launched into fashion, are you not?”

  Alexandra stiffened. “I would not describe myself as a “child”, precisely, Lady Barrington. I am nineteen years old, you know.”

  Lady Barrington laughed. “As I said — a child, and far too young to be playing games with the Duke of Stanford! My advice to you, my dear, is to guard your heart against him. He is far too charming for his own good.” She said these last words lightly, but Alexandra thought she detected a note of bitterness in the cool voice.

  Composedly, she replied, “I am perfectly able to take care of myself, thank you, Lady Barrington. I may be young, but I am in no way stupid.”

  “Well, I certainly hope so, my dear. The hearts that Stanford has broken in the past do not bear counting, you know! Now Letty,” she continued, sitting down, “Tell me how you are enjoying your first Season. Is everything as you expected it to be?”

  Alexandra thoughtfully regarded Lady Barrington while Letitia answered the older woman’s question. The hostility she had seen in the Marchioness’s eyes when she had spoken to her, had not been imagined. Obviously, Lady Barrington viewed her as a rival for Stanford’s attentions. Alexandra almost smiled at the thought. The Duke, she knew, was merely amusing himself by sponsoring her in Society.

  Lady Barrington, however, clearly thought otherwise, and Alexandra, for one, had no intention of enlightening her as to the true state of affairs. The Marchioness awakened no warm feelings in her breast. Alexandra reflected that Lady Barrington was the kind of woman that other women, for no known reason, instinctively disliked on meeting. Personally, she found her to be both objectionable and insincere. And her condescending manner was intolerable! It was therefore with a feeling of profound relief that Alexandra saw her grandmother waving at her across the room a few minutes later, and she and Letitia could legitimately make their excuses and take their leave of the older woman.

  Lady Barrington expressed her regret at having their conversation curtailed, but it was with a far from regretful look on her face that she stared after Alexandra’s retreating figure.

  “Afraid that the Grantham chit may cut you out, Lavinia?” Sir Jason Morecombe said, coming up beside her.

  Lady Barrington spun around and viewed Sir Jason through narrowed eyes. “I do not know what you are talking about, Jason,” she said coolly.

  “Come, come, Lavinia,” Sir Jason said, flicking open his snuff box and delicately taking a pinch. “I know you too well for that statement to hold any water with me. You mean to have Stanford this time around, do you not?”

  Lady Barrington silently regarded Sir Jason. Suddenly she laughed. “You are too shrewd by half, Jason. If you must know, I do intend to marry Stanford. I am a free woman now, and nothing — especially not a red-headed slip of a girl — is going to prevent me from obtaining my objective.”

  Sir Jason snapped the snuffbox shut and smiled, the smile somehow making him look even more lizard-like than ever. “Well, Lavinia, my dear, you have a royal battle on your hands then. Stanford, in my humble opinion, is on the point of falling irrevocably in love with your — ah — “red-headed slip of a girl.” Great sport to watch, you know.”

  Lady Barrington’s lips tightened. “You aren’t serious, are you, Jason?”

  “Of course I’m serious, Lavinia. When am I ever not?”

  “But — this cannot be! I married Barrington only to — in my naiveté — spite Stanford. I shall not, now that I am finally free again, have my desire to marry into the Beaumont family overset by Alexandra Grantham! She hardly has the claim to Stanford that I do!”

  “What claim do you have, Lavinia?” Sir Jason asked inscrutably. “As far as I can see, Stanford will never marry you. He has no taste for second hand goods, I’ll wager.”

  Angry colour rose in Lady Barrington’s cheeks. “How dare you, Jason Morecombe!” she spat. “I — I — you will see! No matter what it takes, I shall have Stanford!”

  Sir Jason bowed ironically. “Well, I do not believe you will succeed, Lavinia, but I take my — ah — hat off to you for trying.” His eyes hardened suddenly. “And I offer you my services in your endeavours, my dear, if you have need of them. Unlike the other misguided people of our circle, I have no liking for Miss Alexandra Grantham.”

  Lady Barrington smiled thinly. “I heard that the malicious rumours you tried to spread concerning Miss Grantham came to naught in the face of Stanford’s sponsorship of her. It is not often that that poisonous tongue of yours fails to spread its venom, is it, Jason?”

  “As you say, my dear,” Sir Jason sneered. “Failure is not a condition familiar to me. That is why I am offering my humble services to you. I hope, almost as much as you, I suspect, to see our young friend toppled off that pedestal Stanford has erected for her.”

  Lady Barrington’s lip curled. “And so you shall, Jason, so you shall. Miss Alexandra Grantham has a few nasty shocks in store for her. That you can be sure of!”

  Chapter Seventeen

  True to his word, the Duke took Sir Charles’s place at Alexandra’s side on her morning rides in the Park. Alexandra, at first, had been a trifle wary of his escort, fearing that, unlike Sir Charles, he might frown on her practise of giving Starlight her head on Rotten Row. Many members of the ton thought it undignified for anyone to actually allow their mount to break into a gallop in the Park. Stanford, however, was not of their number and Alexandra discovered in him an excellent companion.

  They often encountered Sir Charles on these morning expeditions. He, like Alexandra, favoured early morning exercise, and was often seen in the Park, shaking the fidgets out of his horse’s legs. Letitia accompanied her brother and Alexandra on occasion, and when she did, Sir Charles invariably joined their party. At first, Letitia treated the baronet with distinct coolness, the memory of his perfidy fresh in her mind, but she was not a young woman who found it easy to bear a grudge, and before long she and Sir Charles were on easy terms again.

  One morning, Sir Charles and Letitia were engaged in debating the merits of Sir Charles’s latest equestrian acquisition. “Your cob lacks constitution, Charles,” Letitia declared. “It is merely a showy animal. And I thought you to be a good judge of horseflesh!”

  “Letty, my dear,” Sir Charles said, grinning. “Once you have gained membership to the Four Horse Club, as I have, then I shall listen to your criticisms. Not before!”

  Letitia gasped in indignation. “Charles! How unfair! You know perfectly well that only gentlemen are allowed to be members of your silly club!”

  “It is not a silly club, my dear. And our members are generally reputed to be excellent judges of horseflesh. So, no more impertinence from you, Letty. I shall not countenance it.”

  Alexandra smiled at Letitia’s outraged expression. For once her friend appeared to be bereft o
f speech. Her sulky face as she rode on, however, spoke eloquently of her injured feelings. Looking across at the Duke at this moment, Alexandra saw that he was regarding his sister and Sir Charles with an arrested look in his eyes. A while later, he slowed his mount to a walk and, indicating to Alexandra that he wished to speak to her, waited for Sir Charles and Letitia to move on ahead of them. “Miss Grantham,” he began, “You are Letty’s close friend. Has she spoken to you about Sir Charles, at all?”

  Alexandra, seeing which way the wind was blowing, replied slowly, “Letty views Sir Charles in the light of a brother, your grace. If you believe her to have developed a tendre for him, you are sadly mistaken.”

  “That is a pity, then. I think that Charles would make my feckless young sister an excellent husband.”

  Alexandra kept silent. The Duke obviously believed Letitia to have recovered from her attachment to George Winters, and she, of course, had no intention of enlightening him to the contrary. Letitia had spoken to her in confidence about her forbidden love, and she would never betray her trust. She couldn’t help agreeing with his grace, though, that it was a pity that Letitia did not favour Sir Charles’s suit. It had become clear to her, recently, and obviously to the Duke as well, in which direction Sir Charles’s affections really lay. How sad it was for him that Letitia did not return his love.

  Alexandra glanced up at this moment, and saw Lady Barrington and Sir Jason Morecombe approaching them on horseback. She suppressed a sigh, having no desire to speak to the two people in London whom she liked the least. She knew, though, that politeness demanded that she and Stanford stop and exchange civilities with the other party.

  Lady Barrington brought her horse up beside the Duke’s, and after coolly greeting Alexandra, proceeded to engage him exclusively in conversation, leaving Alexandra to speak to Sir Jason. Alexandra, however, kept warily silent, the memory of her previous encounter with the baronet fresh in her mind. Sir Jason, after subjecting Alexandra to a leisurely appraisal, said eventually, “What a cosy picture you and Stanford present, riding together in the Park every morning. I do hope, however, that you haven’t set your heart on marrying the Duke, Miss Grantham. Lady Barrington, a woman of more mature years, is far more to his grace’s taste than a schoolroom Miss such as yourself. She has known him all her life, you know.”