A Most Unconventional Courtship

by Louise Allen

‘Thank you, Wilkins.’ Would Chance be there? Alessa remembered to pick up her skirts properly and followed the butler.

  Yes, he was there, the very antithesis of that dashing pirate in rigidly correct pantaloons, Hessian boots and dark blue swallowtail coat. Alessa ventured a small, private smile and was met by an expression of blank politeness. He has to be careful in front of Aunt Honoria, she thought uneasily, trying to convince herself that there was nothing to worry about. All the confidence that Kate had instilled yesterday seemed to be seeping away through the soles of her kid slippers.

  ‘Please sit down, Alexandra.’

  ‘Yes, Aunt Honoria. I do hope you are somewhat recovered this morning.’

  ‘Thank you, Alexandra, yes. I have asked Lord Blakeney to join us so we can make arrangements.’

  ‘For the journey to Venice?’

  ‘Of course not—to deal with the fact you are comprehensively compromised, of course.’

  ‘But I’m not!’

  ‘Yes, you are,’ Chance said. ‘Completely.’

  ‘I am a virgin,’ Alessa protested indignantly.

  ‘So I should hope!’ Lady Blackstone plied her fan energetically. ‘What has that got to do with anything, pray?’

  ‘I don’t have to do anything, because I am not compromised.’ That can’t be it, can it? Chance isn’t standing there looking like a thundercloud because he thinks he has to marry me?

  ‘You were alone with the Count of Kurateni. You were alone with me. You were seen on deck in male attire by a post captain of the British navy,’ Chance said, sounding every bit as censorious as her aunt.

  ‘Then if anyone compromised me, it was the Count. He tied me to his bed—’ Lady Blackstone moaned audibly ‘—he can marry me. He wants to, after all.’ Which is more than you obviously do.

  ‘You are not marrying Zagrede,’ Chance glared at her. ‘You are marrying me.’

  It was so far from the tender declaration she had been dreaming about that Alessa’s jaw dropped. ‘No, I am not!’ she snapped when she recovered herself.

  ‘You will get married quietly here, as soon as possible,’ her aunt stated.

  ‘We most certainly will not,’ Chance riposted.

  ‘What?’ Both women stared at him.

  ‘Why not, may I ask?’ Lady Blackstone demanded.

  ‘Yes, why not?’ Alessa echoed. Not that she wanted to marry the wretched man who had only proposed because he had compromised her.

  ‘We will appear to meet in England once Alessa’s status has been established and there is no hint of scandal about her. A hugger-mugger marriage out here would give rise to talk.’

  ‘That is all you care about, isn’t it? Propriety, convention, what people will think.’ Alessa sprang to her feet and confronted them both. ‘I thought you cared about me, my lord. I thought that under that conventional, aristocratic, superior skin there was a romantic heart. Well, I was wrong, and I wouldn’t marry you if you begged me and I don’t care if you feel your precious honour has been compromised by not marrying me.

  ‘I am sorry, Aunt Honoria. I will come back with you and do my best to behave as you would wish until I can establish myself independently. But marry that man I will not!’

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  ‘Hell and damnation.’ Chance swore without apology. ‘Excuse me, ma’am.’He threw the door open in time to see the skirts of Alessa’s gown flipping round the corner and gave chase.

  He caught her on the terrace, which was mercifully deserted. ‘Alessa!’

  ‘Go away.’

  ‘Alessa, I want to marry you.’

  ‘Of course you do,’ she said cordially. ‘Not to do so would be such bad form, would it not? Whatever would people say?’

  ‘They would say what a lucky escape from such a sharp-tongued termagant,’ Chance retorted. ‘What do you mean, I don’t have a romantic heart? Let me tell you what I did about Harrison and Maria—’

  ‘Oh, I know about that. Well done, I am sure they will be very happy. But that was all right, was it not? He is just a secretary, he isn’t a stuffed shirt of an Earl.’

  ‘Alessa, I have every intention of marrying you when we get back to England.’

  ‘Oh, have you? I suppose you think so now, but what if there is a scandal after all? They’ll say I’m just a Greek girl that you had a fling with over here. Englishmen on the Grand Tour are notorious for it. They won’t like you bringing your mistress home, and then deciding to marry her.’

  It was so close to his own anxieties about marrying her on the island that Chance felt himself flushing. She pounced on it as a sign of guilt.

  ‘Some emotion at last! I walked into the room and you pokered up like a clergyman confronted with a loose woman. I realise that you don’t want to marry me, but you might at least have tried to look enthusiastic.’

  ‘I was deeply resentful of being summoned by your aunt and being dragooned into making a proposal not of my own choosing,’ he fired back before he realised just how damningly that could be interpreted.

  ‘Honesty, finally,’ she observed. They stood looking at each other. Chance felt as though he was seeing her for the first time. A tall woman, golden skinned, imperious, her head flung back, weighted by the mass of black hair at her nape. She stared at him out of hostile green eyes, those winged black brows giving her an expression that was almost fierce. She was strong, and independent and unshakeable and he was not going to break her will.

  ‘You will marry me!’ he thundered, frustrated beyond reason. She stared back out of those magical eyes and he realised that she was trembling, just a little, and the fullness of her lower lips was caught hard by her teeth and the glitter in her eyes was not anger, but unshed tears. He was bullying her and yet she was standing up to him. He would never break her will—and he knew now he did not want to.

  ‘Alessa.’It was a groan more than a word, and he took her face between gentle palms and kissed her, quite chastely on the lips. There had been quite enough drama.

  He is going to kiss me, at last, he is going to show me what he feels. Alessa put up her hands to Chance’s chest, ready to brace herself against the onslaught of those wonderful kisses, the proof of his passion, his love, his need for her. She wanted to sink into them, yield to them, surrender to him.

  Then he kissed her like a brother and stepped back. Alessa took a deep breath and pushed down the waves of heat that had risen through her body at the mere anticipation of his embrace.

  ‘I am overwhelmed by your ardour my lord,’ she said frigidly. ‘I do not want to discuss this matter ever again—I do hope I have finally made myself plain?’

  ‘Perfectly, madam.’ The pulse at his throat was throbbing, she could see it, despite the immaculate neckcloth, but he was controlling his anger and, presumably, the feelings of chagrin at being rejected. He would be pleased enough, when he had time to reflect upon it.

  Alessa dropped a precise curtsy and swept off the terrace. She was so blinded by emotion that she did not realise where she was until the three girls were clustered round her. ‘Well?’ Maria demanded. ‘When is it to be? Do you think the Earl would mind if we had a double wedding? That would be so romantic.’

  ‘Frances and I could be bridesmaids,’ Helena chimed in. ‘What did he say when he asked you? Did he go down on one knee?’

  ‘I am not marrying Lord Blakeney. He only asked me out of propriety—my aunt is insisting upon it. He is so afraid of appearing unconventional that he won’t even agree to us marrying here. My lord expects me to trail meekly back to England and prove myself acceptable and then he will deign to do the right thing,’ she said bitterly.

  ‘The beast,’ Frances said, tears of sympathy welling in her big green eyes. ‘But you will come back to England with us?’ Alessa nodded. ‘Then we will find you a nice Englishman. A romantic, dashing, unconventional one, you wait and see.’

  The next week passed in a sort of delirium. Alessa supposed she appeared normal. The children seemed to notice nothing ami
ss, she was able to take part in meals and excursions and stilted conversations with her aunt about travel plans and at the same time everyone looked as though she were seeing them through glass—and their voices echoed a long way off.

  Chance kept well clear of her except for the most formal of encounters and the girls conspired to protect her by swooping down with a poem to discuss, or a piece of gossip to exchange, whenever it seemed likely he would stray near to her. Maria kept tactfully silent about her own wedding plans if Alessa was within earshot.

  The news came that the Plymouth Sound had been retaken with no one seriously injured, but with all the pirates vanished, taken off by a black-sailed ship that had swooped down and vanished into the night before the Argos located them. Alessa, still cherishing a reluctant liking for the Count, felt guilty but glad. Despite the fact that the danger remained, the Admiral assured Sir Thomas that it would be safe for the ladies to set sail again next week when a small convoy, accompanied by a frigate, would make the voyage to Venice and the Adriatic ports.

  Alessa told herself that she was happy, although she wished Chance was not sailing with them. Being constantly in his company was an agony she had expected time to dull, but which seemed to renew itself afresh every morning. He seemed quite impervious to either heartache or regret.

  Her appetite had dwindled to nothing, she noticed at breakfast the day after the news came about the Plymouth Sound. That would never do; she would make herself ill and would not be able to look after the children. Alessa gave herself a mental shake and made herself eat another sweet roll with her coffee.

  Helena was full of a new plan. ‘It is such a pity there isn’t time to arrange a party before everyone leaves for Venice,’ she announced. ‘So I think we should have a picnic, with all the trimmings.’

  ‘That sounds very pleasant,’ her mother approved. ‘But we should not go too far, just an easy drive. Lady Blackstone will not wish to undertake anything to strenuous just before they depart, I am sure.’

  ‘The beach at Anemomylos is nice,’ Maria suggested. ‘It is only about two miles south of the town,’ she explained. ‘And the views are very pretty.’

  Alessa had to agree with Maria when she saw the place. It was a delightful spot, a long sandy beach with low cliffs behind and a sweeping view over the narrow strait to the mountains beyond. She exerted herself to be bright and cheerful, both out of courtesy to her hostess and because the children had been allowed to come, along with their nursemaid.

  ‘Isn’t his lordship here?’ Demetri demanded as the small convoy of carriages came to a halt and servants began to carry rugs, hampers and cloths down to the beach.

  ‘Apparently not,’ Alessa said lightly. ‘I expect he has correspondence to catch up with. I think Mr Harrison might play catch with you if you ask nicely.’ The children scampered off and Alessa took her aunt’s arm as they walked down to the beach. She had made a point of not looking to see whether Chance was with them, but she had felt his absence like a missing tooth.

  The ladies were all settled at last, under the shade of an umbrella pine. ‘How enchanting the view is,’ Lady Trevick exclaimed. ‘I really think the cliffs here would make a perfect location for a summer villa. I must suggest it to Sir Thomas. Paleokastritsa is a delightful resort, but an official summer residence near the town would be useful for entertaining.’

  ‘Just think…’ Frances sighed ‘…over there the Count is still at large, plotting his dastardly deeds.’

  ‘Dastardly deeds indeed,’ her mother said disapprovingly. ‘Have you been reading novels, my girl?’

  ‘Only a few, Mama,’ Frances admitted. ‘They are very educational—all about foreign parts.’

  ‘You are travelling in foreign parts,’ her mother retorted repressively. ‘You do not need to read frivolous nonsense about them.’

  ‘No, Mama. Oh, look, isn’t that a pretty little sailing boat! It looks just like the one the Count of Kurateni had.’

  They all shaded their eyes to stare at the skiff, flirting over the waves northward. There was one man at the tiller, a second in the body of the boat. As they watched, the steersman brought the boat round, the sail flapped and it lost way. The other sailor began to haul in a rowing boat that was being towed astern.

  ‘Fishing,’ Mr Harrison observed, coming to drop down besides Maria. ‘Phew, that lad has quite winded me! They’ll be letting a net out between the two boats and hauling it round. It seems to be a good way of two men managing a large net.’

  Sure enough, one man was getting into the rowing boat and beginning to row towards the shore. ‘I’ve watched them before,’ Maria said. ‘It takes ages. Let’s walk along the beach and see if we can find any shells. I want to make a shellwork frame for a mirror.’

  She reached out a hand to Alessa and pulled her to her feet. ‘I’ll bring this basket, shall I?’ Alessa knew she had to enter into things and not to be seen brooding, if only for her own pride, but it was hard to feign an interest in shellwork just now.

  The other girls joined them and they began to stroll along the waterline, stooping every now and again to pick up a choice specimen. The man in the rowing boat was keeping parallel with them, close inshore. Alessa thought vaguely that it must be a big net, she did not recall seeing other boats having to make such a wide sweep.

  ‘Is this too big?’ She held up a large shell for Helena’s inspection, just as the rower dug in his starboard oar hard and the boat shot up to the beach. He leapt out as the girls stood gaping at him—a fat man who Alessa recognised in the same instant as Frances squealed, ‘It’s the pirate! The one who steered us when we escaped!’

  He was in front of them before they could react, a small circular hand net in his grip. He swung it, entangling Alessa, picked her up, threw her into the rowing boat and was pulling hard for the skiff before the other girls could scream.

  Winded, outraged and completely tied up in the net, Alessa was too indignant to be frightened. ‘Let me go at once! You are going to be very severely punished for this—Sir Thomas will not let you get away a second time.’

  His only answer was a grunt. In a few more hard stokes they were alongside the skiff, its sail filling again. The pirate shipped the oars, let the rowing boat scrape up the side of the bigger boat, picked Alessa up bodily and dumped her on board. Then he backwatered out of the way and the skiff skimmed off, leaving him behind.

  Alessa struggled frantically with the net, which had pulled her hat over her eyes, finally freed herself and lay panting on the deck, staring at the tall figure at the tiller. Tight black trousers over long, muscular legs, a shirt with flamboyantly wide sleeves, a wide red sash cinching narrow hips and hair in a bandana topped off by a wide straw hat.

  She squinted against the sun-dazzle, trying to make out the face in the shadow cast by the deep brim, but failed. Surely it couldn’t be the Count? But who else would have the sheer gall, the extravagant showmanship, to snatch her off the beach in the teeth of the full Residency household? ‘Take me back this instant,’ she demanded, trying to keep her voice steady. ‘You cannot hope to get away with this.’

  The only answer she got was a quizzical tilt of the head. ‘Lord Blakeney will rescue me,’ she declared, suddenly utterly convinced it was true. ‘He rescued me before and he will do it again. He is an English gentleman and a match for any cowardly pirate.’

  That provoked a sudden grin and a flash of white teeth. ‘Don’t you dare laugh at me, you wretch!’ She got enough breath back to scramble to her feet and marched up the short deck towards the tiller. ‘Oh, if only there was a real man here!’

  ‘I am devastated,’ said her captor, pushing back the hat to the back of his head. ‘One moment you are complimentary about me, the next—’

  ‘Chance!’ Alessa stared at the tall figure. Had she got heat-stroke? Did a broken heart make you hallucinate? ‘Chance—what are you doing?’

  ‘Attempting to prove to you that I do not give a fig for convention or propriety—provided I ca
n have you.’

  ‘But you don’t want me.’

  ‘Yes, I do. Don’t you remember? Because if you do not, then my technique is a lot worse than I had imagined.’

  ‘Oh, I know you want me that way. I expect you want lots of women that way, and I haven’t got any basis for comparison, but I am sure your technique, as you call it, is amazing,’ Alessa said crossly, still too shaken by the kidnap to take what he was saying seriously.

  ‘Alessa, I love you.’

  ‘No, you don’t, you never said so.’

  ‘You never said you love me, but I rather suspect you might not positively dislike me.’He glanced up at the set of the sails and adjusted the tiller to take them further out into the bay.

  ‘Chance, I—’

  ‘No, don’t try to tell me anything now. Wait until we land. There is something I want to say to you, and I need to give it my full attention.’

  Alessa sank down on to the deck. ‘They will be sending a rider to the fort. They will have a navy cutter out after us. Chance, you are in so much trouble—how are we ever going to explain this?’

  ‘No need to explain anything. They will all know by now.’

  ‘What? How?’

  ‘I told Harrison. He and Maria are particularly grateful to me at the moment and were more than willing to reciprocate in a romantic gesture.’

  I don’t believe this…Chance is not romantic. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘Vidos Island.’ Chance nodded northwards. ‘We’ll be there soon.’

  ‘But it is deserted.’

  ‘There is a small population of goats, I believe, and a ramshackle cottage where I intend to compromise you completely and comprehensively.’

  He sounded as calm as though he was discussing taking a stroll along the seafront, but there was something in the timbre of his voice that shook Alessa out of her confusion and her irritation and into belief. Slowly, not taking her eyes off him, she got to her feet and went to stand at the tiller, laying her hand over his as though to help him steer.