by Louise Allen
Angrily she dashed the back of her hand over her eyes and ran down the exterior stone staircase at the side of the house. By the time she reached the beach she had regained her composure and was able to find a smile for Kate. Chance, Dora clutching his hand, was pursuing Demetri along the beach, waving a clump of slimy seaweed.
‘Look at him!’ Kate mopped her face and stuck the bonnet back on her head. ‘Nothing but a big boy himself. He’s wonderful with those children, you know.’
‘I can see.’ Chance had caught up with Demetri and they were now having a mock swordfight with pieces of driftwood, cheered on by Dora.
‘He took one look at our faces when we came out and took them straight down here, telling the footman to bring along the tray.’ Kate grinned and nodded towards an expressionless footman setting out lemonade and biscuits on a flat-topped rock. ‘Told me he thought it would be a good idea to take their minds off that starched-bum of an old besom.’
‘He never said that!’ What a wonderful description…
‘No, but it was what he meant, and she is too, isn’t she?’
‘Absolutely,’ Alessa said with a sigh. ‘My aunt wants the children to stay here. She thinks that even though they are a credit to me, they remain Greek peasant brats and the best they can hope for in England is a future as upper servants.’
‘What? Load of nonsense! That boy’s going to end up an ambassador, and Dora’s that sweet and pretty she’ll marry a duke.’
They stood and studied the future star of the diplomatic service and future duchess as they chased a peer of the realm though the shallows, screaming at the tops of their voices.
‘What are you going to do, then?’
‘I told her that we all go or none of us goes.’
‘Bet that pleased her.’ Kate studied the trio romping in the surf. ‘Do you think he has any idea how hard it is to get salt-water stains out of wool cloth?’
‘None at all. What man would? As for my aunt, she is afraid people will think they are my illegitimate children if I take them, and that she will be accused of abandoning me if she does not bring me back.’
Kate’s response was unladylike. Chance stripped off his coat and cravat and rolled up his shirtsleeves, the better to grapple with Demetri, who was scaring Dora by pretending to have a crab in his hand. ‘Blimey. Do you think he’ll take any more off?’ Kate asked hopefully. ‘That is a very beautiful man.’
‘That,’ retorted Alessa tartly, largely to disguise the fact that she was admiring the breadth of Chance’s shoulders and the muscles in his forearms, ‘is a man who asked me to be his mistress.’
‘He never did!’ Kate’s tanned, freckled face was a picture of speculation. ‘What did you say?’
‘No, of course. The Count warned me what would happen, and he was quite right.’
‘Why doesn’t he marry you? Your granddaddy was an earl too; he can’t say you aren’t well bred enough for him.’
‘He is planning to go home and marry some little chit on the Marriage Mart. He might want me, but in England I’ll be thought to be on the shelf, and my aunt made it quite clear that everyone will regard my past as shady. He’ll be looking for some eighteen-year-old virgin with pink skin who giggles.’
‘You’re a virgin. You are, aren’t you? All right, don’t glower at me like that. So, you aren’t a spring chicken any more, and you’ve been out in the sun a bit, but you’ve got looks and a brain. He’ll come round.’
‘I don’t want him to come round.’
‘Liar.’
‘Shh! They are coming back.’ Chance had swung Dora up on to his shoulders, and he and Demetri was trudging back through the shallows, panting and wet.
‘Look at you!’ Alessa scolded the children the minute they came within hearing. If she ignored the state they were in, they would assume something was wrong. ‘Come and sit down quietly and drink some lemonade, you are over-excited.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Chance said meekly, earning himself a sharp look and the retort that his lordship was old enough to take care of himself.
Although her instinct was to keep them close, Alessa shooed the children off home with Kate once they had demolished the pile of fruit biscuits and most of the lemonade. Thanks to Chance, the memory of the stern-faced Lady Blackstone seemed to have vanished, but she did not want to run the risk of another encounter that day.
After she had kissed them goodbye she came back and sat down beside Chance on the shingle, their backs against a sea-worn tree trunk that had been tossed up by last winter’s storms. ‘Thank you,’ she said simply. ‘That was kind.’
‘To play with them? They are delightful; I enjoyed myself.’
‘I could see.’ Alessa found they were sharing smiles and hastily stared out to sea. She felt easy and relaxed with him: it must be the reaction of finding someone who liked the children after her aunt’s frosty reception. ‘I thought you said you were not used to children.’
‘I was a small boy once; I do remember what was fun.’ He reached for a handful of fine gritty sand, letting it run through his fingers until only the little shells were left. ‘The interview with your aunt did not go well, then? Mrs Street did not say anything when they came out, but I could tell something was wrong.’
Alessa recounted the conversation, as closely as she could recall it. Repeating it again, she found it made her more, not less, angry. ‘I shall stay here,’ she concluded. ‘I have made up my mind now.’
‘No. Come back to England, bring the children. I will be back too; I will make sure that any rumours that start are soon put right. My mother and sisters know all the Society hostesses and will vouch for you. Before you know where you are, you will be regarded as a romantic and intriguing figure and will be invited everywhere.’
Alessa gave an unladylike snort. ‘Indeed? I suppose I had better pack my Corfiot costume, the better to appear exotic.’
‘Why not? I would not suggest you wear the toute ensemble, but some embroidery, a sash—those will be much admired.’
‘You give fashion advice?’ Alessa watched him slantwise from beneath her lashes. It seemed he had taken her refusal of an illicit relationship to heart if he was suggesting ways she could become respectable.
‘I have sisters. Remember?’ Chance said darkly. ‘A man would have to be blind and deaf to live in a houseful of women and not become an expert on every detail of fashion. “Chance, please may I have an advance on my allowance? Hemlines have gone up—or down or sideways—and I haven’t a thing to wear,”’he mimicked with a grin. ‘Or every bonnet in the house has to be retrimmed because no one would dream of being seen in bright green ribbons this week. Or their lives would be blighted because dawn blush is the shade for silk stockings and they are all looking complete frights in soft rose.’
‘You are obviously hard done by,’ Alessa agreed, privately thinking that his attitude to his sisters was attractively affectionate. It did not stop him being an unprincipled rake as far as other women were concerned, of course.
‘We are getting off the point,’ Chance said, cutting across her thoughts. ‘You will be fine once you get to England, we just need to make sure you do all get there together. Your aunt is going by way of Venice—did you know?’
‘The Count told me.’
‘Did he, indeed? What a lot that man knows.’ Chance threw the handful of shells away down the beach. ‘I believe Venice is a strange and lovely city. I hope we can explore it together.’
‘You are going there?’
‘It is my next stop. Then I was going to travel back to England overland. We will discover Venice together, with the children as chaperons.’
‘If I can persuade my aunt to let me take them.’ Venice with Chance. Gondolas, masked balls, canals and shadows, exotic spices and silks. Temptation and risk.
‘The problems of taking them outweigh the potential scandal of leaving you here and people finding out,’ Chance said shrewdly. ‘She will treat them frostily, I am afraid; perhaps the be
st we can hope for is that she will ignore them. They are children used to affection and openness. Do you think it may affect them?’
‘I will explain to them that she is to be pitied because her heart is cold. They understand Anna in the next courtyard, who is not right in her mind, and are quiet and kind around her. They can learn that great ladies are also afflicted in some way they must be tolerant of.’
‘Your judgement cuts like a knife,’ Chance said.
‘She called my children peasant brats,’ Alessa said. ‘I am sure the priest would say it was my duty to forgive her. He would also be shocked that she would think that way. Frances will be nice to them, I am sure,’ she added in an effort to be fair.
‘Yes, a sweet child, that.’
Just the sort of well-bred, very young lady you are looking for. Alessa stuffed that thought firmly away and brought out the more immediate one, the worry she could talk about. ‘I am still not certain my aunt will let me take them.’
‘Alessa.’ Chance swivelled round until he was facing her. Now she could no longer ignore the impact of his closeness, the effect on her senses. He smelt of the sea, there was a hint of fresh sweat from his exertions, intriguingly male, and he was warm, large, close and overwhelming.
‘Yes?’
‘I promise it will be all right. I promise you will go to England, and the children with you.’ He took her hand and raised it to his lips. ‘See? Sealed with a kiss.’
Chapter Sixteen
The kiss was the most fleeting caress. Barely a touch, in fact, Alessa told herself, retrieving her hand in what she hoped was a dignified manner. Chance’s brown eyes were serious.
‘You think I am flirting?’he asked in a disconcerting echo of her thoughts. ‘I am being quite sincere, Alessa. We should start again and forget sea bathing and questions asked, don’t you think? Start again and see what England brings. You will need friends there, as well as your family; I would not like to think I had cut you off from that because I let myself—’
‘Alessa!’
‘I am sure she went down here…’
It was the Trevick sisters and her cousin, laughing as they picked their way cautiously over the shingle to the firmer sand. ‘Oh, look, there she is, and the Earl. Hello!’ Helena waved gaily and Alessa waved back.
‘Miss Helena appears to have recovered from her wounded heart,’ Chance observed wryly. ‘And she seems to bear you no grudge for revealing her hero’s feet of clay.’
‘You realised she fancied herself in love with him?’ Alessa regarded Chance with surprise. Now was no time to puzzle over what he had been about to say just then.
‘As I was just saying—I have sisters and I recognise the signs of calflove. The real thing, for some strange reason, is much harder to detect.’
‘Ah, so you have not observed the one real case of love in our little party?’Up on the terrace she could see Mr Harrison leaning on the balustrade and watching the girls as they made their way across the beach.
‘No! Who?’ Chance demanded, just as the three reached them.
‘I am not telling,’ Alessa murmured, then raised her voice to call, ‘Come and join us, the stones are quite dry. I am keeping his lordship company while he recovers from his exertions.’
‘Really? What have you been doing?’ Helena asked cheerfully. Frances, perched a little way off on the end of the tree trunk, gazed soulfully at Chance who had got to his feet at their approach and now dropped back down besides Alessa.
‘No, surely you don’t mean…’ She followed his gaze, smiled brightly at Frances and hissed back.
‘Of course not. Calf-love.’
‘Did you say calf-love?’ Maria made herself comfortable next to Alessa, tucking her skirts neatly around her ankles, safe from the fretful breeze.
‘Calves’ foot jelly,’ Alessa improvised. ‘I was recommending it for its strengthening properties.’
‘Really?’ Maria glanced from Frances to Chance, caught Alessa’s eye and stifled a smile. ‘What have you been exerting yourself for that you are in need of such restoration, my lord?’
‘Playing with Miss Meredith’s delightful wards. They have made me feel my age, I must confess.’
‘Well, if you will insist on playing horses for Dora and duelling with Demetri, what do you expect?’ Alessa teased. Where had all the antagonism and tension gone? Was it simply that Chance had ceased to flirt with her, so she could relax? And to relax was what she wanted to do, very badly. To lean into the broad shoulder next to hers and rest her head on the crumpled white linen of his shirt. Alessa sat up straight.
‘I wish we could have met the children,’ Frances said, apparently beginning to recover a little from the impact of finding Chance in a state of exciting undress. ‘They look charming.’
‘Are they very excited at the thought of coming to England?’ Maria asked.
‘Yes, and a little daunted,’ Alessa confessed.
‘Then it is certain they are coming with us?’ Frances frowned. ‘I would love it if they were—I always wished for a little brother and sister—but Mama said they were not.’
‘There are arrangements to be made,’ Chance said diplomatically before Alessa could reply. ‘I expect you are looking forward to Venice, Miss Blackstone? I am travelling there next.’
Oh, Chance, that was a slip, Alessa chuckled to herself as Frances beamed at this wonderful news. She found she was looking at Chance’s bare feet with their long, elegant bones, his toes curling in the sand. The unconscious sensuality with which he was flexing them in the warm, fine grains made her heart beat harder and her mood of light amusement fled to be replaced with one of vague dread.
‘Excuse me, my lord. Miss Trevick, Lady Trevick sends to say that luncheon is served.’ The footman eyed Chance’s state of dress. ‘Shall I tell your lordship’s valet that you will require him immediately?’
‘Lord, yes. Fetch my coat and shoes from over there, would you?’ Chance got to his feet with a rueful glance down at himself. ‘Ladies, if you will excuse me!’ He set off up the beach as fast as the pebbles would allow in bare feet, then took to his heels as soon as he reached the road.
‘I swear all men are small boys at heart,’ Alessa remarked, as the girls shook out their skirts and prepared to follow the hurrying footman with more decorum. ‘I do hope Lady Trevick is not a stickler for punctuality!’
Chance arrived at the dining-room door in the wake of Lady Trevick, who was gracious enough to pretend to ignore his somewhat slapdash neckcloth and hastily combed hair. Lady Blackstone was already at the table, looking her usual cool self. Chance brooded on his best tactics—to make some remark straight out about the children, or not? Best perhaps not to mention them at once, or she might suspect that Alessa had been discussing her opposition to them.
Alessa caught his eye as she entered the room and smiled. Whatever had caused that antagonism had gone, it seemed. He was still puzzled by it until the thought came to him that the intensity of their lovemaking had shocked her. She was so mature, compared to the other girls, so independent, that he thought of her still as the young widow he had first mistaken her for. But she was not. She was inexperienced, although not sheltered, and they had found each other in a way that was shockingly sudden. No slow courtship, no gradual awakening. It was no wonder she had reacted strongly to him.
Chance realised he had been asked twice by Miss Trevick to pass the artichokes and pulled himself together. Absentmindedness was not going to help matters. He needed time with Alessa, time to court her properly and build up her trust.
‘A courier has arrived with the post, my lady.’ Wilkins was at Lady Trevick’s side. ‘I have placed the business correspondence for Sir Thomas in the study, but as everyone is gathered together I wondered if you wished the rest brought in after the meal, ma’am?’
‘Why, yes, I think so, Wilkins, thank you.’ She smiled around the table. ‘It is several days since we received anything; I am sure everyone is as eager as I to see what news t
here is of the outside world.’
As the staff began to clear, the butler placed a large salver by Lady Trevick’s side and she began to distribute letters. ‘Three for you, Lord Blakeney. A pile for you, Count. Lady Blackstone, Miss Blackstone.’ She carried on passing the packages out. Alessa watched her aunt carefully slit one seal with her knife and scan the contents thoroughly before passing it to Frances, who seemed to find nothing amiss in having her correspondence so thoroughly perused.
She realised that Lady Trevick was giving a far more cursory scrutiny to her daughters’ post, twitting them gently about the number of party invitations they were missing by being out of town. Would Lady Blackstone expect to read her niece’s correspondence? They were due a battle royal if she did. Then Alessa realised that there was no one to write to her, so the question was hardly likely to arise. Even so, it added to her unease about her aunt’s controlling ways.
‘Oh!’
‘Is something amiss, Lady Blackstone?’ Her hostess put down her own letter. ‘Not bad news from Venice, I trust?’
‘No, not at all, but I am afraid that Frances and I must break up the party and return to Corfu Town shortly. This letter has come on board the ship that will take us to join my husband. ‘She turned the page. ‘They must make some slight repairs, it seems, and take in supplies, so the departure is not imminent, but we should make our way back and prepare.’
Her green eyes sought out Alessa. ‘You, too, Alexandra.’
‘Of course, Aunt.’ As she spoke, Alessa realised she had definitely made up her mind. She would go to England and she would take the children, even if she had to smuggle them on board in her trunk.
Mr Harrison put down the note that had constituted his only mail. ‘Sir Thomas writes that an urgent dispatch reached him by the same ship, and he is returning directly to Corfu Town, rather than to us here. He asks me to see to his office being transferred back, and I am to join him immediately.’
