Surrender to Love

by Rosemary Rogers

  With a grateful smile for Lord Charles that excluded her tormentor, Alexa had begun to take tiny nibbles from the mountains of food that had been set before her. Fresh pineapple, mango and papaya topped with thick cream had always tasted delicious before; but now she hardly tasted anything at all; eating only because it saved her from having to engage in conversation or look in his direction. What a detestable, despicable man he was, this “Cousin” Nicholas that Lord Charles seemed to admire so much. It was quite apparent, for all his surface playacting, that he was by no means a gentleman and was obviously unused to dealings with ladies. A gentleman would have acted as if nothing had happened—and of course, thanks to her, nothing had taken place between them, Alexa reminded herself. She had sent him away, hadn’t she? And had decided to forget everything that had happened last night, had quite succeeded in doing so, until now. Why didn’t he go away? Or—a thought alarming enough to cause her heart to pound—what did he hope to achieve by playing cat-and-mouse with her?

  “Is everything to your satisfaction, Miss Howard?”

  Lifting her head, with a mixture of defiance and bravado arming her, Alexa managed to produce a brilliant smile for Lord Charles. “It was exactly what I had been craving all evening, and I do thank you for your kindness and consideration.”

  He sent her a relieved smile in return. She had been so silent for the past few minutes that he had begun to wonder uncomfortably whether she had been offended in some way, perhaps by his introducing his cousin without first requesting permission to do so. And then, of course, Nicholas tended to be rather overwhelming when one met him for the first time. Sheltered young ladies especially could not be used to the kind of man who disdained what he referred to as “silly parlor games”; usually with a dangerous glint in those strange eyes of his that boded no good. But on this occasion Nicholas had laughingly promised to either behave himself or take himself off as soon as he felt it a strain to do so. To sheathe his claws, in fact.

  “You.won’t use that certain tone of voice on her, will you? She’s quite young and has been very sheltered. Never even been home to England, so I understand, even though she was born there. And this is her first ball—celebrating her eighteenth birthday, Mrs. Mackenzie told me. She’s really quite different, you know.”

  “My dear Charles! Why on earth should I take the trouble, to—sink my claws in her, did you say? Into some guileless little thing who probably won’t even recognize sarcasm if it’s directed at her? Believe me, I don’t bother to waste my time on giggling young innocents. I’ve lived long enough to discover that only women present a challenge worth taking up.”

  Sometimes—perhaps most of the time—Charles didn’t understand Nicholas at all, even though they had become companions and even friends of a sort. Different countries, vastly different backgrounds—for all that the same blood ran in their veins, and for all that Nicholas was well traveled and had been in Europe several times as well as to China. The real difference between them was that Charles was truly civilized—innately polite—whereas Nicholas was well mannered only when it suited him and did not feel himself bound in the least by either custom or convention. But tonight at least he seemed to be comparatively well behaved, Lord Charles noted with a feeling of relief. Why, he was actually being obliging enough to engage the older Miss Howard in quite an animated conversation, which was unusual for Nicholas.

  Seizing his chance, Lord Charles asked in a low voice, “Would you consider me too presumptuous if I were to beg for the honor of another dance? That is, if you have not already promised them all...”

  Without really wanting to listen, Alexa had not been able to help overhearing some of the conversation between Aunt Harriet and Senor de la Guerra. Something to do with growing coffee and the way the berries had to be processed before they could be shipped. Hypocrite. Viper! What was he really up to?

  Pushing her thoughts aside as decisively as she pushed away the gold-trimmed plate before her, Alexa decided to concentrate all of her attention upon Lord Charles while she ignored his so-called distant “cousin.”

  “Oh! And now you are going to think poorly of me, and my aunt will scold and say I have disgraced her; but do you know that I cannot remember if I promised this dance to anyone or not?”

  How adorable she was, and how frank and open in contrast to the practiced debutantes he was used to who had been trained to keep careful tally. And of course she was probably quite overwhelmed by the attention he was paying her, the darling innocent that she was.

  “If you do not see any man with a happily gloating look upon his face who is hurrying in this direction— then? After all, Miss Howard, no real gentleman would allow himself to be even a minute or two late in claiming his dance, and you would be quite within the bounds of propriety if you were to accept the offer of another gentleman under such circumstances.”

  “Are you teasing me or is it really permissible?” Alexa risked a hasty glance at her aunt who, surprisingly, seemed quite engrossed in whatever subject she was expounding upon. She should not agree to dance too many times with the same gentleman because it would only serve to make her appear conspicuous—how many times had Aunt Harriet told her so? And yet she needed to escape from the almost palpably physical presence of the man whose hard green eyes suddenly seemed in one flashing look to see right through her—through everything she wore to the warm flesh he had touched so intimately last night and with such sureness that he had, for a few moments, made her feel as if everything he was doing was both natural and right. Oh God! To think how close she had come to utter degradation!

  “Word of honor, Miss Howard. There are some things I would never tease about, I assure you.”

  Alexa said hastily and almost mechanically as she sternly pushed aside her wild thoughts, “It is just that I would not want to be considered fast by everyone else, you understand.”

  “How could anyone possibly think such a thing of you? Miss Howard, I...” Lord Charles was forced to cut himself short when a rather breathless young man in military uniform came up at that moment to claim his dance, full of profuse apologies for his tardiness.

  Unable to hide his disappointment, Charles was quite aware of his cousin’s cat-eyed look; but he pretended to ignore it, even when Nicholas said lazily: “How difficult it must be to have to play chaperone, or duena as we say in Spanish, to such an attractive young woman. I have two younger sisters myself, and my poor mother is forever worrying about them and nagging, which doesn’t help. But perhaps customs here are not quite as strictly rigid? I have tried to persuade my mother that even well-brought-up young girls should be permitted a certain degree of freedom, so that they do not feel stifled by the restrictions that they are surrounded by—although to no avail so far, I must admit!”

  When he shrugged, one could almost sense the ripple of muscles under skin beneath the closely fitting jacket he wore. And Harriet was immediately horrified at herself for even thinking such a thing. It had been more years than she cared to remember since she had noticed anything about a man beyond his manners, his clothes and his outward appearance. She must be on the verge of senility!

  “Even in this remote part of the world we try to conform to what is proper and safe when it comes to the upbringing of a young lady,” Harriet heard herself say rather stiltedly. “I have had the charge of my niece’s education for the most part, and I think I have taught her what I consider most important of all—the difference between right and wrong. At any rate, she has seldom disappointed me so far.”

  “And I have heard nothing but the most flattering comments on both her appearance and her manners,” Lord Charles interjected emphatically, deliberately ignoring his cousin’s cynical look. Damn Nicholas and his infernal air of detachment anyway; and let him make his sly assignations with the kind of experienced woman he preferred. But as for himself, he preferred the challenge of innocence that was so rarely to be found—a girl who was untouched and natural and still on the threshold of womanhood, full of ideals and
expectations. Like Alexandra Howard. Alexa, her aunt had called her. And although he could only say her name in his mind for the moment, he hoped that before long, when she had learned to trust him, she would grant him that right.

  Taking the seat that Alexa had vacated, Charles set out to be charming to her aunt, sending a defiant glance in his cousin Nick’s direction. After all, it wasn’t as if Nicholas was his guardian, dammit, just because he happened to be a few years older, and “The Pater,” as Charles usually called his father, the Earl of Atherton, had requested embarrassingly that Nicholas keep his son out of “any unsuitable entanglements.” Well, Miss Howard could hardly be called “unsuitable,” and in any case, at twenty-six years of age Lord Charles considered that he was wise enough in the ways of the world to be capable of managing his own affairs without interference from outsiders. Alexa... Why, he could easily fall quite madly in love with her! And there was no reason why he should not stay on here in Colombo longer and catch the next ship that sailed back home. With her to accompany him, perhaps. It was quite a titillating thought.

  Rather belatedly, Charles noticed that his cousin was about to leave them, and was making his polite excuses to the older Miss Howard. Meeting the ironic look in those dark green eyes and a lifted black eyebrow, Charles put on his most pleasant smile as he murmured, “Are you deserting us, Nick?” How well he knew how his cousin hated that particular shortened form of his name. “Well, I think I will stay where I am and converse with Miss Howard, and hopefully win the honor of another dance with her lovely niece!”

  “Oh, good heavens!” Harriet snorted uncontrollably at that, drawing a quite natural grin from the dark-visaged Senor de la Guerra for the first time. “I must say that I have never received such devoted attention before in all my life! It’s enough, I vow, to make me wonder if it could possibly be true that women, like select wines, become more sought-after with age and maturity. Perhaps you will be able to enlighten me?” And then, catching Lord Charles’s rather dismayed expression, she laughed shortly and said more kindly: “Ah, well! I’m afraid I’m one of those perfectly obnoxious old ladies who insist on sharpening their tongues occasionally at the expense of the young. And since I was never either an heiress or a beauty in my day, I was forced to fall back on my cleverness or my wit, neither of which ever brought me such marked attention as I have received this evening, though.”

  “Then all I can say is that I pity the men of what you call your day who obviously had not the wit themselves to appreciate such a rare treasure as an alert and intelligent mind,” Lord Charles said quickly, with the winning smile that never failed to charm all of his mother’s friends. “I have always thought it a shame that too many young women in this day and age are only capable of carrying on a conversation that consists of mere banalities.”

  “Then I must say that you’re different from most young men of today,” Miss Harriet said after giving him a piercing look.

  Lord Charles kept an attentive smile on his face while he settled back to listen to her expound on what was obviously one of her favorite topics. Nicholas had wandered away to seek his amusements elsewhere, and Charles could not help a feeling of relief at not being under the surveillance of that mocking and somehow skeptical gaze that always made him feel young and vaguely uncomfortable. Dammit, why should he become a cold-blooded cynic who trusted in nothing and no one just because Nicholas was that way? There was no fun to be found in picking everything to pieces, he felt, and life and its pleasures were meant to be enjoyed. Like the lovely Alexandra—Alexa— even while he continued to listen to her aunt with half his mind, Lord Charles had begun to picture her at his side, elegantly gowned and hung with jewels that would show off her beauty. How jewels would glow against the rich bronze of her hair, lie heavily about her slender neck, gleam at her ears. And she should wear bracelets about her wrists and above her elbows as well, to emphasize the slimness of her upper arms. Rings on her tapered fingers too. And how he would enjoy dressing her—taking her to the most elegant modistes in London and Paris for her gowns—and how much more he would adore undressing her! Naturally, she would be afraid and even overwhelmed to begin with, but he would teach her, gradually and gently, to overcome her fears, teach her to love him. All he needed was enough time to spend with her, and he meant to make sure of that.

  Chapter 8

  Gala festivities in Colombo, since they occurred so seldom, usually lasted until the first mother-of-pearl shades of dawn pinked the sky defiantly and gradually faded the stars until they disappeared completely. Following a ball given on such a grand scale as this one, there would be a sumptuous breakfast served to all those who stayed on until the very end; even if the host and hostess had already retired to their beds.

  Harriet had already warned her niece that she had no intention of keeping such early hours and that as soon as the Governor and his wife had begun to make their excuses, Alexa might take that as a signal that they should do so too. “And I’ll tolerate no dillydallying and procrastination either, if you please, once I have announced that we too should retire. Also, I shall expect you in future to refuse champagne when it is offered to you and to ask for fruit punch or lemonade instead; for you may take my word for it that even if a young gentleman does offer you wine or champagne he expects you to refuse it. Self-restraint, my dear Alexa, is a lesson you might learn and find useful in the future.”

  “Yes, Aunt Harriet.” Alexa’s deliberately widened eyes and false smile caused Harriet to award her a grudging, if somewhat sarcastic nod.

  “Very good, my dear, although the smile might have appeared less artificial if you had remembered not to grit your teeth together at the same time. And just one more word of advice—you would do much better not to show yourself too eager to accept the attentions of any one particular gentleman and give him too much of your attention, even if he should court you with posies and pretty speeches. As far as men are concerned it’s the thrill of pursuing the unattainable that keeps them interested; and an easy conquest is just as boring as a suggestion of uncertainty and competition is a challenge. For your own sake, you might remember what I have just told you.”

  She had danced at least four times with Lord Charles, Alexa thought resentfully, but it did not really mean anything significant beyond the fact that she found him interesting to talk to as well as attractive and understanding. She was sure he did not misunderstand or think her too easily available; so why should the fact that other people might think this or that be a matter of concern to her? Before Alexa could say anything in reply to her aunt’s warning speech, however, she was approached by her next partner; an extremely bashful young man who had no conversation whatsoever, as she soon discovered. But that was her fault for feeling so flattered at being surrounded from the beginning by so many eager gentlemen begging for dances that she had recklessly promised almost all of them before realizing her own foolishness. The next time she would know better and would pick and choose; but perhaps... By the time she was being escorted back to her seat by her red-faced, perspiring partner, Alexa had begun to wonder thoughtfully if perhaps she should deliberately sit out a few dances. The next dance, maybe? Especially if it happened to be a polka and her partner an energetic military man. She must learn how to make excuses gracefully.... Beginning to fan herself in anticipation of announcing regretfully to her next prospective partner that she felt so overheated and could not possibly dance another step until she had managed to regain her breath, Alexa suddenly realized that her treacherous foot had started tapping in time to a lilting Strauss waltz. Her very favorite dance of all. And oh dear! Here was the Viscount Deering bowing before her again while he begged for the honor, if she had not already promised this waltz to some other more fortunate gentleman.

  With an apologetic smile in the direction of the wooden faced Miss Harriet Howard, Lord Charles explained that he was forced to leave the festivities earlier than he had anticipated in order to return to the ship to supervise the unloading of a few personal items
too valuable to be trusted to anyone else; and that was why he dared to be bold enough to importune Miss Howard again so soon after their last dance. “Mrs. Mackenzie has been kind enough to invite me to stay here for as long as our ship will have to undergo repairs to the damage incurred during a particularly nasty storm we encountered last week; and my cousin has informed me that by tomorrow she will be positively crawling with workmen, so...”

  Avoiding her aunt’s eye, Alexa returned his almost pleading look with a smile that showed her dimple, and was actually about to extend her hand to him when he suddenly moved aside with a bow and a murmured apology. The Governor of all people! Alexa swallowed uncomfortably, thinking how close she had come to committing & faux pas. How could she had promised the fifth waltz to her host? Her Aunt Harriet would never have forgiven her!

  “Well, young lady. Hope you didn’t think I’d forgotten our dance, eh? Quite the belle of the ball, you’ve been, and I was almost afraid that some bold young buck might have been quicker than I.”

  Perhaps it was in some ways just as well that Lord Charles should feel slightly thwarted, Alexa thought, remembering Harriet’s lecturing. He would probably be all the more eager to meet her again; and after all, he had made it clear that he would be staying on in Colombo for a few more days at least.

  His Excellency the Governor, Alexa rediscovered, was quite a Latin scholar and seemed to enjoy testing her vocabulary; but it was soon obvious that his waltzing was as stiff and jerky as his manner of speech. Poor man. He would probably have felt much more comfortable as an Oxford don rather than filling the post of Governor of a British crown colony. As he guided her through one or two turns about the room, Alexa tried to respond as best she could to the occasional questions he directed at her— rather as if she had been a student he was testing, she thought with rueful amusement. But at least he seemed pleased at her replies, and even went so far as to compliment her on her knowledge of Latin grammar and the extent of her reading in that language.