by Louise Allen
A gasp behind them made Alessa turn, her hand still trapped in the Count’s. The three young women had emerged from the church and were all staring at her: Frances and Maria with expressions of delighted shock, Helena with a look of wounded betrayal. And to put the cap upon it, her aunt and Chance turned from their conversation at the well to see what the small stir was about.
Alessa snatched her hand free and stepped back, only to find herself virtually standing on Lady Trevick’s toes. Her ladyship smiled serenely, tucked Alessa’s hand under her elbow and strolled off towards the terrace edge. ‘Do come and tell me what the striking building I can see over there is, Alexandra dear.’
She pointed vaguely along the coast, lowering her voice and adding, ‘Do not be too discomposed. The man is an incorrigible flirt and I am certain you have not had the experience to either expect such advances, or know how to deal with them.’
‘I am sorry, Lady Trevick. Your daughters and my cousin saw…’
‘And it will be a salutary lesson to them not to trust gentlemen to hold the line if opportunity presents. You are not to reproach yourself, I am sure you did nothing to encourage him.’
‘Thank you, ma’am. My aunt looks so displeased.’
‘I will have a word with her. Frances is very young; I expect it makes her mama more protective than necessary.’ She strolled round to join Lady Blackstone and Chance, freed her arm from Alessa’s and linked it with the other matron’s. ‘Such a rogue,’ she murmured with a smile. ‘Poor Alexandra is so flustered at his effrontery. I declare I will have to go and flirt with him myself—now that would teach him a lesson.’
How cleverly done, Alessa thought admiringly. She has made Aunt Honoria feel unsophisticated for wanting to scold me. Then she looked at Chance and saw he had absolutely no qualms about looking unsophisticated, nor about wanting to scold.
‘How could you be so imprudent?’ he demanded.
‘As to do what? To stand a little aside, in an open place surrounded by others—two of whom are chaperons—with a gentleman who is a guest of the Lord High Commissioner? In what way, exactly, is that imprudent?’
‘To trust a rogue like Zagrede, of course! Do you tell me you are so innocent you did not expect such a thing?’
‘Of course I am not. I know exactly how gentlemen may be relied upon to seize any opportunity to flirt, or much worse. But, as our conversation was not in the slightest way flirtatious, I must confess to being taken aback that he chose such a moment. But then, he is naturally a very flamboyant character, is he not?’
‘He is a damned mountebank,’ Chance said furiously. ‘I have a mind to call him out.’
‘For kissing my hand in a public place? Now if he had taken advantage of me, assaulted me while I was on a lonely beach, say, or dragged me into a deserted room—why, then, I agree, there could be grounds for outrage.’
‘You were hardly reluctant,’ Chance retorted furiously.
‘And I am not exactly averse to the Count’s caresses, within reason and in a place where he cannot overstep the mark.’ Alessa smiled sweetly and swept off to where the three girls were perched under the shade of the Chaste Tree that Zagrede had been lying beneath earlier, trying to look as if they were not speculating wildly on what was afoot.
‘Wretched man,’ Alessa said composedly as she joined them. ‘He will be up to his tricks with each of us, make no doubt, just to see if he can make each of us jealous.’
Helena gave a stifled sob and her sister hissed, ‘I told you Alexandra would not try to fix her interest with him, knowing how you feel. But I was right, you see—he is an arrant flirt.’
‘I am afraid so,’ Alessa said sadly. ‘And I was talking to him about a most serious matter, one that caused me a little emotional distress, and he presumed upon that to…to take my hand and force a kiss upon it.’
‘Wretch,’ Frances said stoutly. ‘Will Lady Trevick ask him to leave, do you think?’
‘She does not take it seriously,’ Alessa confided. ‘I fear we are all a little sheltered, and doubtless such things are commonplace in high society during the Season. No doubt she considers it a useful lesson to us to be on our guard.’
‘Are all men such flirts?’ Frances demanded. ‘I am sure Lord Blakeney would not be.’
Alessa did not feel that she could go so far as to acquit Chance of dangerously predatory tendencies. As it was, she had massaged the truth to try and press home the warning to the other girls that the Count was not to be trusted.
‘No, not all men are like that,’ Maria said softly, her eyes cast down to her folded hands. ‘There are some true gentlemen.’
A glance at the other two girls confirmed Alessa’s opinion that neither had any idea that Maria was in love with Mr Harrison. Of course, they simply thought him too old to possibly be a candidate for such affection. She controlled her smile, happy, despite her own muddled misery, that someone had found true love.
The walk downhill towards the villa was very different than the ascent that morning. Lady Trevick led the way, leaning on the Count’s arm, engaging him in conversation in a way that was a positive education in sophisticated flirtation. Lady Blackstone followed, accepting Chance’s arm over the rough parts of the track, not revealing in any way what she thought of her hostess’s tactics. The younger women followed behind, each of them subdued by her own particular preoccupation, with Mr Harrison silently ready to offer his assistance, should it be required.
When they finally reached the villa Lady Trevick shepherded her own daughters and Frances off to their rooms to rest before dinner. The men vanished, whether to make up their differences in the billiard room, or to their own chambers to wash and rest, Alessa had no idea. Calling up her resolution, she followed her aunt into the sitting room the ladies had claimed as their own retreat.
‘Aunt Honoria.’
‘Yes?’ Lady Blackstone regarded her with her usual cool reserve.
‘Tomorrow I have asked Mrs Street to bring the children down to see me. I would like you to meet them.’
‘If you feel that is best, Alexandra.’
‘I do. If we are all to be travelling together, and perhaps living together while I find my bearings in England, I think it important that they meet you and Cousin Frances as soon as possible. This will be a big change for them.’
‘Indeed, it would be.’ Surely that should be will be?
‘Aunt, I understand that Lord Blackstone is in Venice on a mission.’
‘That is correct.’
‘And would we be travelling to Venice before returning to England?’
‘But of course. We would be there now, but I felt it my duty to investigate the possibility that my brother’s child might be on this island.’
Her duty. Alessa tried to imagine her own feelings if a niece or nephew were cast adrift, alone on a foreign island. It seemed the cold English climate entered the blood if one lived there long enough.
‘I see. I had not perfectly understood. Perhaps it would be better if I made my own way directly to England?’
‘Certainly not! That would give rise to the most unfortunate comment. Naturally you will come with me to Venice and we will return together when Lord Blackstone’s mission is accomplished.’
‘But, ma’am—’
‘I will not brook any alteration to that plan. It would be most improper of you to travel alone and would cast the family in a most unfortunate light.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Alessa agreed meekly. I must get to England, claim Papa’s inheritance and then establish myself independently as soon as I decently may—I cannot bear to be part of such oppressive respectability.
She dropped her eyes as her aunt nodded magisterially. Why had Chance intervened in her life? Only a few days ago life had seemed so simple. Hard, but simple. There were people she loved, a living to earn, skills to perfect.
Now she had a new family she must learn to like. A whole new society to navigate and survive in, for the children’s sake. And a new love to forget. If tha
t were possible in a lifetime.
Chapter Fifteen
Chance leaned on the balustrade of the terrace and watched grimly as Alessa ran out of the front door to meet Kate Street and the two children. He had to look twice to recognise Mrs Street with her hair braided up severely under a vast bonnet and her figure laced tightly into a plain, high-necked gown. She would never look like a lady, but at least she had achieved the appearance of a respectable upper servant, and that ought to satisfy Lady Blackstone.
The children ran to meet Alessa, who bent, arms wide, to catch them both to her. Chance felt a constriction in his throat as she stood for a long moment, the children clasped tight, her face buried in their hair. God, she loves them so much. Was that why she did not have any to spare for him? He was still baffled by her vehement rejection, and so apparently was Zagrede, who apologised lavishly for misleading his friend.
‘But I asked her directly, as we walked up the hill—how could I be so mistaken?’ he lamented.
‘You were flirting with her soon enough,’ Chance had said frostily.
The Count shrugged. ‘I try to charm some answers out of her. That gets me nowhere. The lovely Alessa is at outs with the two of us, my friend.’
Now Chance stood and watched the small group approaching the front door. Alessa had one child on each side, their hands clasped in hers, and was nodding vigorously as they both spoke at once. They came to a halt just underneath where he was and her voice reached him clearly.
‘You look very smart and neat. Now remember, you must call Lady Blackstone my lady. Only speak when you are spoken to, and do not chatter. Lady Blackstone is not used to having young people in the house, so you must make a good impression upon her. Can you do that?’
All Chance could see of Dora was her head nodding energetically, curls bouncing out at the side from under her sun hat. Demetri was nodding too. ‘Should I bow?’he demanded.
‘That would be very nice. Now, time to go in.’ She turned and pulled a wry face at Kate over her shoulder. Chance shifted slightly and a small pebble fell off the stonework under his hand, falling just in front of the boy. He looked up, his brown face lighting up with his smile as he recognised Chance.
‘See, Alessa! It is my lord.’ He waved energetically and Chance waved back.
Alessa cast him a single harassed glance and shooed the children in through the front door. ‘Shh!’
Chance stared down at the empty space, so suddenly silent and still, and shivered. When he looked up, the sun had vanished behind a cloud.
Alessa marshalled her little band in the hall and practised her calm smile on the butler. ‘Is Lady Blackstone in the front parlour, Wilkins?’
‘Yes, Miss Meredith. I will announce you.’
That was more formal than Alessa had been expecting, but she followed him through the door. ‘Miss Meredith and…party, my lady.’
‘Aunt, here are the children and my companion, Mrs Street, just as I promised.’
Lady Blackstone stood up gracefully and extended a hand to Kate. ‘Mrs Street. I gather I have you to thank for the chaperonage of my niece.’
Kaye bobbed a respectable curtsy. ‘I’m pleased to meet your ladyship. I’ve done my best to stand by Alessa—Miss Meredith, I should say, but it’s been no hardship, so quiet and hardworking that she is.’
‘Hmm. And these are the children.’
‘Yes, Aunt. This is Dora.’ Dora wobbled into a curtsy. ‘And Demetri.’ The boy’s bow was much more successful.
‘Kalíméra, Kyria,’ they chorused, then, ‘Good day, my lady.’
‘Ah. They speak English, then.’
‘Certainly Aunt. Dora speaks English, Italian—and Greek, of course. Demetri has a flair for languages. He also speaks French.’
‘Indeed.’ There was a long silence. ‘Please sit down.’
Alessa established the children side by side on a sofa facing Lady Blackstone. She wanted her to see how attractive and well behaved they were. They stared wide-eyed at their hostess; she in turn regarded them warily, as though two wild animals had come to perch on the over-stuffed upholstery.
‘Do you go to school?’ she asked Demetri.
‘Yes, my lady. I go to Dr Stephanopolis. He is a very learned man and he teaches boys. I learn languages and reading and writing and mathematics and geography and—’
‘And you?’ Lady Blackstone cut through the enthusiastic list and looked enquiringly at Dora.
‘I go to the nuns, Kyria…my lady. And I learn my letters and sewing and—’
‘Nuns?’ Her ladyship’s dark brows arched.
‘Greek Orthodox nuns, Aunt.’ For some reason her aunt seemed prepared to countenance the Greek Orthodox church while she recoiled from any suggestion of Roman Catholicism. Alessa was aware of the prejudices in England about religion, but, raised in a colourful and tolerant hodge-podge of faiths, she found it deeply unattractive.
The children were beginning to fidget. They had been brought up to be respectful to adults, but at the same time they were used to being listened to. ‘Tell Lady Blackstone how you have been helping while I have been away.’ She wanted to demonstrate what good, obedient children they were, and she was rewarded by their bright smiles at the implied praise.
‘I have been looking after the ladies,’ Demetri said importantly. ‘And the animals, and watering the garden.’
‘And I have been helping Kate with the cooking and visiting old Agatha,’ Dora added with her sweet smile.
Bless them, how could anyone fail to adore them?
‘You may go out on to the terrace,’ Lady Blackstone announced. ‘I will ask Wilkins to have lemonade and biscuits brought out for you before you return home. Good day, Mrs Street.’
It was dismissal. Bewildered, Alessa stared at her aunt, but Kate was on her feet, her lips tight together. ‘Come along, children, say goodbye to her ladyship.’
They were out of the door before Alessa could move. ‘But, Aunt, did you not want to make the better acquaintance of the children? After all, if we are all to travel together…’
‘I hardly think it fair to drag them off to England, do you, my dear? Ask yourself, what would become of them? They are nicely spoken and respectful, I will say that for them, and it does you credit—but they are foreign. And superior upper servants are two a penny in London. Much better for them to stay here where their languages will be of some use.’
‘Servants? I intend sending Demetri to a good English school and finding a governess for Dora. I can afford it, can I not? And then they may do as they please when they grow up. But neither of them is going to be a servant, not if I can help it.’
‘My dear girl, surely you must see how impossible it would be? Think how it would look.’
‘How what would look?’ Alessa demanded.
‘You reappearing with two children in tow. People would leap to the conclusion that they are yours, of course.’
‘Then I will disabuse them of their idiotic and intolerant ideas!’
‘Alexandra!’ Her aunt took a deep breath and appeared to compose herself afresh. ‘Alexandra, it is going to be difficult enough to establish your character and to gloss over your life these past years, without you turning up with two Greek brats at your skirt-tails.’
‘They are not brats!’
‘They are most certainly not well-bred English children. They are Greek peasants.’
‘They are honest, intelligent, loving, loyal children and they are mine and I love them. If you will not allow them to accompany us to England, then I am staying here.’
Lady Blackstone went white. ‘Impossible.’
‘Why?’ Alessa was beyond deferring to her aunt now. ‘You were willing enough when we first met for me to stay here and for you to arrange to have my inheritance sent to me.’
‘That was before anyone else knew about you, foolish girl. Think of the scandal if I leave you here now. The Lord High Commissioner knows about you, Lady Trevick knows about you, that mountebank of a Coun
t knows about you, the Earl knows—why, all of island society will know about you soon, if they do not already. I cannot possibly leave the granddaughter and niece of the Earls of Hambledon on a Greek island to earn her own living—it would be an outrage.’
‘I am afraid you do not have a choice, Aunt.’ Alessa drew herself up and met the older woman’s furious glare with hard-won composure. ‘Either you take us all, or we all stay.’
‘How dare you make me an ultimatum, you ungrateful chit!’
‘Aunt, I will quite happily return to my former life, with the addition of the inheritance from my father, to which I am entitled. I make no demands upon you or the family in England, I have no intention of boasting of my connections all around the island. In a few weeks there will be no gossip—people will find more important things to chat about.’
‘Here they may well do,’ Lady Blackstone retorted. ‘But when the news reaches London it will do the family great harm. Frances’s come-out might be compromised.’
‘Then take us all,’ Alessa said again, clasping her hands to stop them shaking. ‘I will not change my mind. Now, if you will excuse me, I must go and tell the children when I will see them again.’
She was hoping her aunt would call her back, but she found herself out on the terrace with only the sound of a sharp, exasperated sigh following her. There was no sign of the children. Puzzled, she walked to the balustrade and looked around, then she heard the sound of Dora’s voice raised in an excited shriek and saw them down on the beach.
Everyone was paddling, shoes and stockings off, trouser legs rolled up and skirts hoisted. Kate, her bonnet in her hand, was standing ankle-deep, fanning herself with the broad brim, Demetri was skimming stones and calling to Chance to admire the number of skips he was achieving and Chance was swinging Dora out over the incoming wavelets with his hands under her arms. She was laughing with delight and Alessa felt tears start in her eyes.
With the exception of old Agatha, everyone in the world she loved was on that beach, laughing and playing, and behind her the representative of her real family was making decisions based on nothing but prejudice and a concern for what other people would think.
