They set about playing the song, and Alina began singing, her heart light. She leaned into the lyrics, winking at the crowd as she went: “When young and thoughtless, Laura said, no one shall win my heart; but little dreamt the simple maid, of love’s delusive art.”
The group of people, who knew the song well, gathered around and took up clapping along with the tune.
“She flirt away, and ever giddy be; but always said, I ne’er will wed—”
Now, Theo joined in, his harmony deep-throated and dusky, “No one shall govern me. No, no, no, no, no, no, no one shall govern me.”
They went on through the second verse, singing about how Laura’s charms decayed and she grew into an old maid. In the last bit, Alina slowed the tempo in her fingers and found Theo following her lead as seamlessly as though the decision had been his own.
“Let me advise,” Alina sang in a clear, slow voice, “while young, be wise, nor coy and silly be; I’m certain I would never cry, ‘no one shall govern me.’”
The finale of their performance brought a round of laughter and light applause. Alina pulled her hands from the keyboard, letting her fingers linger beside Theo’s before slipping modestly to her lap.
“Another!” Imogene cried.
“A sonata, for the dance!” someone called.
Alina moved to put her hands back on the keyboard but Theo put his over her own. “No, Mrs. Hartley. Tonight, you are not our musician. You would deprive this lovely room of your dancing skills. No, I shall play the sonata, and you shall dance with the first man who can win your hand.”
Alina looked at him with deep surprise and gratefulness. “I’ve never—”
“There’s always a first, Alina,” he told her in a low voice. “Now, spend no more time lingering here beside me. Go enjoy yourself, little bird.”
She walked to the dance floor with her heart light and her smile impossible to remove.
Chapter 16
On the ride home from the party, the carriage was full of such gaiety as Theo had never known. He watched Alina in amazement. She was fairly dissolved in giggles over some comment an imperious older woman had made about their duet, beautifully unaware of the flowers slipping out of her hair or the way her laugh filled the carriage with boisterous energy.
Imogene was laughing, too, her breath short. “She insisted you would have been better if you had trained at the national gallery, and she kept complaining that it wasn’t proper for a single woman to sing about thwarted and lost love when she’d never agreed to be ‘governed’ by a husband.”
“But surely she didn’t know,” Alina managed, gasping in laughter, “that I was already married.”
“That’s the humor of it,” Imogene said with a pretty shrug. “She absolutely did know, and she just chose to forget. I genuinely believe she associated you with poor Laura in the song, and got her history muddled in the meantime.”
“Oh, believe you me,” Alina said in a rare moment of candor, “there was never a woman more acquainted with the difficulty of being governed by a man.”
Suddenly, it was as though she realized what she’d said, and she blushed and fell silent. Theo wanted to say something, but Imogene’s presence was a blockade against his honesty. He fell silent, too, and Imogene went on prattling about the details of the party until they had rolled up to the door of her house.
They disembarked and swept indoors, checking with Willa to make sure Jinx had fallen asleep without incident, then tumbling happily into the embrace of Imogene’s comfortable armchairs.
“Shall I summon some port?” Imogene asked, casting a significant glance at Alina and Theo.
“Port sounds lovely,” Alina agreed, much to Theo’s surprise. She was always so fastidious about drink.
He smiled and nodded. “I concur.”
Imogene rang for the drink, and when it came, she raised her glass in a solemn toast. “To new beginnings,” she said, looking once again at Theo. She downed her drink in a man-ish gulp and then stood abruptly. “Well, I’m sorry to do this to you both, but I have something pressing I must accomplish in the other room. Will you be quite alright if I leave you alone for a few moments? I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
Theo looked at Alina, reading the expression of surprise on her face like a book. To leave Theo and Alina together alone, after such an evening as they’d had, was scandalous to say the least. Surely Imogene, the height of society and a serious influence in Brighton, knew as much. Her subtle suggestion that she had something “pressing” to do after midnight on a weekend was unconvincing, but Theo couldn’t help feeling grateful that she was going to such lengths to give him a chance at Alina’s heart.
“What about the servants?” Alina said softly.
“They are all abed,” Imogene answered with a quiet smile. “I’ll be back shortly.”
She walked from the room and left the two staring at each other across the flickering firelight. Theo thought Alina had never looked so beautiful. She relaxed in the white gown like a woman given a new lease on life, her hands holding the port glass with girlish ineptitude, a few tendrils of honeyed hair escaping to frame her face.
He wanted to walk across the room then and there and cup that soft complexion in his hands, but he didn’t want to abuse the liberty Imogene had offered up. Instead, he came and stood at a safe distance, leaning against the fireplace. It was Alina who spoke first.
“Tonight was beautiful,” she said gently.
“Your friends are good here,” he said. “You have an excellent community in Brighton; you should visit more often.”
Her face fell, and he added quickly, “Though when you are gone, I am sad of it in London. Marshall Gardens needs you in it.”
“I think you are the only one who feels that way,” she replied with a forlorn smile. “London society continues without me, only missing the juicy gossip Jonas used to offer with his philandering ways.”
“I’ve never heard you speak so frankly against his memory,” Theo told her, hoping his voice didn’t sound too eager.
She looked down at the amber liquid in her glass. “Perhaps it is the port,” she admitted. “I do not wish to malign him.”
“You were not the one in that marriage who did the maligning,” Theo answered her firmly, genuinely. “I have held my tongue until now, but even with that restraint I know you have deduced my dislike for your husband’s personal decisions.”
“I have,” she confirmed, but something in her manner told him it was a topic she no longer wished to discuss.
He realized with a smile of personal triumph that he agreed with her at last. Jonas Hartley’s influence was finally gone—he no longer needed to fret about the other man’s misuse of his wife. He no longer needed to dwell on Jonas’ past crimes. Everything now was about Alina, and about Jinx. Everything now was the future.
“Aren’t you going to ask me about that man I was speaking with at the party?” she said, quite unexpectedly. He saw a nervous little shake in her hands, and it pained him.
“Would you like to tell me about him?” he asked encouragingly.
“His name is Colonel Colin Ellis, and he is a retired officer who lives in Brighton. I walked out with him a few times, just on the oceanside, and he grew quite…” She paused, blushing. “Fond of me.”
“As would be expected,” Theo said softly.
“I tried to keep him from stating the fullness of his heart, but he was intent. He insisted on declaring his love for me, and when I turned him down, he was quite crushed. I don’t think it was just the refusal. Sometimes, when a person is very vulnerable with another person, they resent that person for seeing their weakness.”
She was looking at him with a steady gaze, and suddenly he realized what she was talking about. That day of the funeral, when he’d made the most subtle of overtures and ended up leaving in a haze of disappointment—he hadn’t realized she remembered that day, or that it had touched her so deeply.
“I have seen that happen before,�
� he responded. “I have been the person who exposed their vulnerabilities and then regretted it.”
“It’s worthwhile, you know,” she said wistfully, turning to look at the fire. “It’s worthwhile to be honest, even if it hurts. Even if you don’t get what you want.”
It was as close to an invitation as he was going to get. Theo saw that clearly, and his heart began beating very quickly in his chest. He looked deep into her eyes and saw there an almost child-like hope.
“Alina,” he told her. “I’m glad I was able to come see you here.”
“I’m glad, as well.” She stood, too, so that they were only an arm’s length apart. “Thank you for being so supportive. You are a good man.”
You are a good man. Those were words he knew came hard to her heart, after years of living with a man who was not good—a man who had only abused her and thrown her into his back closet.
“Everything I have done,” he said quietly. “Everything I have done is for you. Because I care about you, Alina. My…fondness for you is only matched by my high regard and respect for your character.”
She nodded, her breath short and light in the room. He wanted to step forward, wanted to draw her close and kiss her so that he could convince her with action of what his words suggested, but he knew better. Alina Hartley deserved gentleness and wooing. She deserved a world of propriety.
“I don’t even know if I have a right to say these things to you,” he said quietly.
She took a deep breath and answered him slant. “You have a right to a great deal more than you think, Mr. Pendleton.”
The door opened then and Imogene re-entered the room, her eyes sliding from Theo back to Alina with an impish smile in her eyes. Theo wanted to laugh at how obvious she was being, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. His heart was too enchanted by the woman standing near at hand. He could think of nothing but her, and the impending separation that would take her from his arms again.
“I should take my leave now,” he announced hoarsely. “I must go to the inn, and leave first thing in the morning so as to make my case in London tomorrow afternoon.”
“Of course.” Alina was quiet, all formality again, but Theo was satisfied. He would cling to those precious moments of honesty and vulnerability in the days he had to wait until her return to London. She laid a hand, feather-light, on his arm. “Travel safely.”
She stood in the doorway as he rode away, framed by the light coming from inside Imogene’s house. He wanted that image to stay forever in his mind—her soft hair and vibrant eyes, her slender form silhouetted against the light, her hand for the brief moment that it lit upon his arm.
As he rode away, the thought about the future for the first time. She had been willing, at least, to consider something more. He could read that in her face, even in the calm and careful way she chose her responses to his words. He thought, for the first time, that there might be a chance at her heart—that the elegant Alina Hartley might consider wedding a lowly barrister. He closed his eyes, the beauty of the evening washing over him yet again, and he thought of his beautiful lady.
***
“We haven’t seen the last of him,” Imogene predicted, pulling Alina back inside when Theo’s carriage had pulled away. “I can tell you that much. That is a man intent on his bride, and you, my dear, are a bride worth having.”
Alina blushed and walked slowly back into the inner hallway. “He said some kind things.” She put her hand against her cheek, hoping to calm the rush of blood that flooded her face. “He was very good to me, Imogene. I know it would be insane for a woman of my standing to marry a barrister, but he would be kind and he would handle Jonas’ fortune well.”
“He would probably handle Jonas’ fortune better than Jonas handled it himself,” Imogene said with a hoarse laugh. “Your husband wasn’t exactly a business genius.”
“I feel so guilty, though,” Alina confessed, a wave of nausea threatening her.
When Theo was nearby, these thoughts of guilt were assuaged by the realization that he loved her, and that he wanted what was best for her. His very nearness was a healing tonic better than any money could buy. But when he went away, the darkness and the fears closed in again and she was left wondering if she had sinned against God and man by allowing her heart to become entangled after her husband’s death.
“Why do you feel guilty, child?” Imogene only called her ‘child’ in the most serious of circumstances.
“I feel like I have too much happiness,” Alina said, knowing that wasn’t the exact truth. She wanted to tell everything to Imogene, but the root of the issue was so horrible, she hadn’t even confessed it to herself.
“You have exactly the happiness you deserve,” Imogene assured her. “You’ve put up with so much over the years—it’s only just that now you should have a chance to enjoy the fruits of your patience. You are a good mother and you were a dutiful wife. You loved Jonas through thick and thin—”
“Please!” Alina raised her hands and took a step back, the awful truth bubbling very near the surface now. “That’s just it, Imogene. I didn’t love him. I never could. Yes, there are reasons on the surface—he was unkind to me, even I can admit that now. He was not the way a husband ought to be to a wife, and he frightened me.”
She swallowed hard as the tears began to cascade down her cheeks. “But Imogene, I didn’t love him. I never did. I went through all the motions and said all the right things, but I never loved him. When Jinx said so innocently that he wished his father wouldn’t come home—” She paused, shivering, before the truth finally came out. “I agreed with him. I wanted him dead, Imogene. I wasn’t just relieved when it happened, I had wished for it. I knew it would mean my freedom, that I would be a wealthy widow with my own life ahead of me, no longer tied to his horrible cruelty.”
Imogene opened her arms up to Alina and let the younger woman sob on her shoulder. “There, there,” she said reassuringly. “I know.”
“You know?” Alina reared back. “You knew?”
“Of course I did. Who wouldn’t feel that way, Alina? In many ways, you can claim unique martyrdom in your life. Not all women have to put up with what you have endured. But in this one thing, you are not alone—anyone in your position would have wished for escape. His death was the obvious alternative. You didn’t kill him.”
“But I wasn’t really grieving,” Alina confessed. “Not for him. I was grieving for what might have been, and nursing such a complete shame.”
“You must let all that go now,” Imogene said fiercely, giving Alina one more hug and then holding her at arm’s length and looking her straight in the eyes. “You have a good man—a decent man—who loves you. You cannot throw all that away on useless shame and guilt that have no place in your heart. You must forgive yourself and move on, not just for your heart but for Jinx’s. And,” she added, “for Theo. For better or for worse, that man clearly loves you.”
Alina went to bed with a lighter heart, though her mind was still whirling with the events of the evening. She wanted to be free of everything, but she didn’t know how to let it go.
When she fell asleep at last, she dreamed of a man standing by the edge of the sea, his back to her. She thought she recognized Theo’s coat, and she took off running towards him. She would tell him, she thought. She would tell him everything at last. She would take him in her arms and scream into the winds, “I love you, Theodore Pendleton, and I am not ashamed. I want you for my own, and I want to be known by you.”
She could feel the wind in her hair and the sand, warm and crumbling, beneath her bare feet. She smiled, and it was as though in the dream the smile threatened to crack her face in two with the sheer power of her joy.
Nearly there, she was already feeling the waves wash against her feet when she noticed the feet of the man in front of her, buried halfway to the knees in sand and ocean water. Those trousers with the pinstripe lines; that way of standing, feet planted wide… Alina felt a sickening lurch as the man
in her dream turned around and confirmed her awful suspicion.
Longing for a Liberating Love: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 13
