by Mary Balogh
JAMES PURNELL HAD HIS DANCE with Miss Courtney. She was a harmless, empty-headed little girl who had been made much of by doting parents and admiring older brothers and who had ambitions to marry into the gentry. She might succeed, too. She was pretty enough and vivacious enough. And who was he to say that she would not make some gentleman a good wife? The chances were that she had learned many household skills from her mother. There was a time when he might have been attracted to her himself. He had been drawn to pretty, vivacious females.
Such days were over. He had discovered through hard experience that almost all individuals and all ways of life had their hypocrisy, their evil. Everyone, it seemed, was self-serving. It had become impossible to trust anyone. There was no such thing as innocence and selflessness and honor.
Almost no such thing. There was Alex, of course. His twenty-one-year-old sister who had never been given the chance to live. And having had all faith in humanity and all chance for happiness cut from his own life, he had come almost to live for his sister. She must be happy. There was a gentleness and a goodness in Alex, and a beauty of character that had been totally repressed behind the mask of feminine virtue put there through long years of harsh discipline by their father. There was a passion for life in Alex that he suspected, though no one else did, he guessed, especially not Alex herself.
Purnell stood and watched the dancers after the opening set was over. Fortunately, this dance was different from most London balls in that there were more gentlemen than ladies. The necessity to lead out some poor little wallflower and save her from humiliation was not present tonight. If only he could be sure that Amberley was the one who could bring Alex to life! But of course, it was not enough that she be simply brought to life. She needed to live in a world worthy of her, and experience had taught him that there was no such world.
If only there were! If only he could see Alex happy, then he could finally break away himself and go in search of…he knew not what. Could he ever find meaning? Could he ever forget? And could he ever throw off the training of years that had made him a person who could not communicate easily with others or relax or laugh or talk about trivialities? And did he want to be such a person anyway? He had rejected with bitter hatred the world of his childhood, the values of his father. But had he ever found a world or values to replace them? Was he looking for the impossible? Was Lady Madeline right when she had asked if it was from himself he wished to escape?
He found himself watching Lady Madeline Raine, as he did so often without ever intending to do so. She personified so much that he yearned for and despised. She was wealthy, privileged, beautiful. She appeared always to be happy. Was it an intrinsic part of her nature to be so, or had life never tested her? Would she crumble if she were called upon to suffer or to live with oppression as Alex had done for twenty-one years?
She was waltzing now with one of the officers from the regiment stationed close by, and glancing up at him, her green eyes laughing into his, her short fair curls shining in the candlelight. She was flirting with him. They made a handsome couple.
Why did he dislike the girl? She was harmless. Indeed, she tried her best, it seemed, to be friendly to Alex, and even to converse with him. She was sunny-natured. Was it her fault that she had had all her life what he wanted more than anything for his sister? Did he dislike her perhaps because she revealed his own inadequacies to him? Would he like to be that officer, to be able to smile at her like that, and talk as easily and as flirtatiously? Would he like to evoke that response in her instead of the discomfort and dislike he sensed when she was forced into his company?
No, he wanted nothing to do with the likes of Lady Madeline Raine. It was a weak and shallow woman like her who had caused his soul to be torn from him. If he ever took a woman again, it would be an entirely different sort. A woman who would cater to his needs and never want anything for herself. A stupid notion, of course! He would want no such woman. Was he his father all over again?
He looked abruptly away from Madeline to find that the eldest Courtney son was also gazing at her, an almost comical look of unrequited love on his face. He had not looked like that a moment ago, surely? But no, there was nothing of love in his feelings for the woman. He would like to bed her, that was all. He would like to have her beneath him, to show her that a physical encounter between a man and a woman was a great deal more real and raw than the romantic, flirtatious encounter that her manner suggested she expected.
Good God, he thought, appalled at himself, he wanted to hurt her.
“Is one permitted to walk in the garden for fresh air?” he asked Howard Courtney.
Howard seemed quite happy to have his train of thought broken. He grinned broadly. “I’ll join you if I may, sir,” he said. “I don’t suppose you would care to see our hogs? The boar won a prize at the fair last week.”
“I think I would be quite delighted to see your hogs,” Purnell said with a wry smile, “provided we can do so without having to bring the smell of the pens back inside with us again later.”
LORD EDEN WAS WALTZING WITH Susan and thoroughly enjoying the sensation of holding her small, very shapely form. He held her at arm’s length, of course, as propriety demanded, but the Courtney parlor was not excessively large and there were twelve couples twirling about it, not to mention a few other people sitting or standing around the edge of the floor, which had been cleared for the dancing. Under the circumstances there was more than one opportunity to draw his partner close enough that they almost touched.
“I would not have believed it, Susan,” he said, smiling down at her bright, pretty face. “What has happened to the little girl I knew but two years ago?”
“She has grown up, my lord,” she said, sweeping him a look from under her lashes. “Are you sorry?”
“Yes, indeed I am,” he said, winning for himself what he had hoped for: a direct and questioning look from those large hazel eyes. “The little girl used to call me Dominic.”
“It seems unseemly still to do so,” she said, blushing prettily. “I am a woman now.”
“Oh, and so I had noticed, Susan,” he said. “But come, I want to hear you say my name.”
“You are unkind to bully me,” she said, and raised eyes shining with unshed tears to his interested gaze. “Gentlemen all seem to think that they can tease me because I am female and may not fight back.”
“Susan!” he said, gentle concern in his voice. “I did not mean to tease. I certainly did not intend to bully. Come, I will make no more demands of you. You may call me what you will. Smile at me and tell me you forgive me.”
“Of course I forgive you,” she said. “It really is excessively hot in here.” She raised appealing eyes to his.
“Then I will take you somewhere where it is cooler,” he said. “Outside?”
“I really should not,” she said. “But perhaps just outside the door.”
“Just outside the door” proved to be a rather dark stretch of lawn on the opposite side of the house from all the farm buildings. And Lord Eden walked for all of ten minutes, the girl’s slim arm drawn through his, her voice a whisper close to his ear. He spent the whole time in some discomfort, resisting the urge to steal a kiss. The trouble was that she was just the type of female that he found most irresistible. She made him feel large and protective and older than his years.
But she had almost wept at his familiarity in suggesting that she call him by his name. She would either have the vapors or deal him a stinging slap to the cheek if he tried to kiss her. And besides, he was not free to indulge in a flirtation with Susan Courtney or any other female, appealing or otherwise. He had pledged himself to marrying his brother’s betrothed. And he must not put off the siege indefinitely, or those two would be married and Edmund would be doomed to a life sentence indeed.
“Shall we go back inside?” he suggested, hugging Susan’s arm closer to his side for a moment. “I would hate for you to catch a chill.”
“I suppose so,” she said wistf
ully. “It is so pleasant out here. I could walk for an hour.”
“I think perhaps your mama would be displeased with me if I kept you out here any longer,” he said gently.
She raised large eyes to his in the darkness. “Other people do love to gossip,” she admitted. “Yes, take me back inside, my lord. I know that you would not do anything unbecoming a gentleman, but they may not know that.”
Lord Eden squeezed her hand and restrained himself with great difficulty from proving her judgment of him quite wrong.
ALEXANDRA FOUND HERSELF UNEXPECTEDLY the center of attraction, being newly betrothed to the Earl of Amberley. It was a novel experience for her to find her hand solicited for every dance. She even found herself relaxing far more than she ever had in company, warmed by the unpretentious friendliness of her fiancé’s neighbors and relatives.
It was a great relief to have this dinner and dance to attend. She did not know how she would have endured an evening at home. How would she have talked with her betrothed? Looked at him? She had been able to avoid both under the circumstances. And it seemed that he too had avoided her, sitting close to Sir Cedric during tea and talking about sheep and crops while his mother had drawn her into conversation; sending her to the Courtneys’ in a different coach from the one in which he traveled; leading Mrs. Courtney in to dinner; and choosing dancing partners other than herself. She did not look forward to the one waltz he had reserved with her later.
Alexandra had the uncomfortable feeling that she had behaved very badly that afternoon. As a gesture of some openness, she had asked Lord Amberley to kiss her. Yet when he had done so, she had blamed him and accused him of trying to seduce her. How very unfair she had been. He had been quite right about that.
And she had told him she would not marry him. She had been prepared in her embarrassment and shame to break off their engagement and go rushing away from Amberley. Where had she envisaged going? Back to Papa? Fortunately, Lord Amberley had kept a cooler head than she and had persuaded her to promise not to make a decision for two or three days. And she would have to back down, of course. It was just one further humiliation to know that he had been more sensible than she.
Even apart from that, though, there was all the embarrassment of remembering what had happened to cause her hysteria. She had expected a kiss like that of the day before. And indeed that was what she had got. It would have ended there had she not chosen to invite more.
What had happened then seemed very unreal to her mind. Her life had been almost totally without powerful physical sensations. The clandestine gallops on the moor with James were the greatest physical exhilaration she had ever known. There was nothing with which to compare her embrace with the Earl of Amberley. It had been an experience so very carnal that the mind had not been part of it at all. She had been all need, all aching, panting need to touch, to explore, and to be touched, to be…possessed. She had wanted him closer, much closer. She supposed she must have wanted that which she knew happened in the marriage bed. But she had never thought of that before in terms of need or desire.
And she could not now. She was repelled by the memory of her own mindless longing. She could not resist stealing surreptitious glances at the earl all evening, recalling that it was with him she had done such things. It was his naked flesh she had felt beneath her hands, his hands that had been beneath her blouse, even beneath her shift, his mouth and his tongue that had so ravished her own, his body that had pressed so intimately against hers.
It was almost beyond belief. In his formal evening wear he looked so remote from her, so refined, so handsome. Alexandra shivered and felt the heat of the parlor close around her.
“May I have the honor, ma’am?” The very dashing Captain Forbes was bowing before her, hand extended, his white teeth flashing in the candlelight. Miss Stanhope was pressing single notes on the pianoforte while Colin Courtney tuned his violin again. Two sets were forming for a country dance.
Alexandra smiled and placed her hand in the captain’s.
LORD EDEN WAS BREATHLESS at the end of the same vigorous country dance. He had spent precious breath laughing at the elder Miss Stanhope, who had declared when he had asked her to be his partner that she had not danced in ten years but that she would accept anyway and proceed to prove to all who cared to watch that she could keep up to any of the young people. But she had a disconcerting and amusing way of shrieking when he twirled her down the set at the conclusion of each pattern. Consequently, Lord Eden had twirled her harder each time.
“I shall be able to boast to the rector tomorrow and for the next month that I danced tonight with the most handsome and dashing gentleman in the county,” she said, patting him on the sleeve when he had returned her to her seat at the end of the set. “That is, if I ever recover enough breath to live through the night.” The normally prim Miss Stanhope giggled like a girl. Her cap was slightly askew on her crimped curls.
Lord Eden made a suitably gallant reply and looked about him for Alexandra. She had also made one of his set with Captain Forbes and had looked quite handsome with her cheeks flushed and one lock of hair worked loose from her chignon and curling down onto her shoulder. He made his way across the room to her.
“Shall we go in search of a drink, Miss Purnell?” he asked. “There is a bowl of punch in the dining room, I believe, and some lemonade.”
“Lemonade, please,” she said gratefully.
He took her arm. “I thought that Miss Letitia Stanhope’s fingers would fly off her hands at any moment,” he said, “she was playing the pianoforte so fast. And poor Colin Courtney looked more as if he were trying to saw through the strings of his violin than to play it.”
She laughed with genuine amusement. “Don’t be unkind,” she said. “I must admit to enjoying this dance far more than I liked any of the grand balls I attended in London.”
“There speaks a true country miss,” he said. “You have a good point, you know. The friendliness of a small gathering like this is worth a great deal, is it not?”
“It is all so new to me,” she said.
“Would you care to walk outside for a few minutes?” he asked. “I believe it is quite proper to do so. The garden is small, and it seems to me there must be some other people outside already.”
“The fresh air would be pleasant,” she admitted, and put her arm in his again after he had taken her empty glass and returned it to a tray.
There were indeed a few people strolling on the lawn where he had walked earlier with Susan. “Are you really enjoying this part of the world, Miss Purnell?” Lord Eden asked when they were strolling across a different lawn past small flower beds.
“I like it very well,” she said. “Everyone has been kind.”
“Did Edmund take you riding in the valley this afternoon?” he asked. “That is always his favorite direction for a ride. Edmund is something of a lone wolf, you know. He is throughly good-natured and generous and takes his responsibilities very seriously. But I believe he is never so happy as when he is alone with his books or with his trees or his thoughts.”
Alexandra did not reply. They had reached a stile leading into the farmyard. The country smells of animals and manure were around them.
“I will take you up on the hill to see the view from the cliffs tomorrow if you wish,” he said. “That direction is more to my taste. One feels caught up in the wildness of nature—it is always windy on the clifftops, you know. One realizes in such a place how vast the world is and how full of possibilities for excitement and adventure.”
“That is what you dream of?” she asked, turning to look up into his eager face. “James is somewhat the same. He would like to travel to other lands, though I do not believe he knows quite what he would do when he got there.”
“Oh, I do know,” he said, “though I will probably never achieve my ambition. I want to be part of England’s army. I want to fight against the French. I want to go to Spain.”
“You wish to serve your country?” she sa
id. “That is a noble ambition, my lord, though a dangerous one. Why can you not do it?”
“I had two uncles who died years ago,” he said, “both in the same campaign. Can you imagine such rotten bad luck? They were Mama’s brothers. My mother is a very sensible and placid lady, but she closes up like a clam whenever I even hint at going myself. I have never had the courage to press the point.”
“It is hard to go against one’s parents,” she said. “We are all brought up to respect their superior knowledge and wisdom. But it is harder for a man, I think. I know James has found it harder to be obedient to Papa.”
“Has he?” he said. “Then I can sympathize. Though my mother would not stop me if I told her that it is what I want more than anything in life. She would even see to it that she did not shed a tear when I went away. But can I do it? That is the question. Can I do that to her, knowing that I may never come back? What do you think, Miss Purnell?”
“There are so many considerations to weigh,” she said. “Love and duty to your mother. Loyalty to your country. Your own need to commit yourself to a cause. What does your brother say?”
He smiled down at her. “Edmund doesn’t,” he said. “Edmund believes firmly that everyone has the right and the duty to make his own decisions about his life, though I do know that he will support me in anything I decide. But I do not need his permission, you know, although he is the head of the family. I am of age, and I have my own fortune.”
“Then you must do what is right,” she said. “But the decision will be difficult because sometimes all the thought and reflection in the world will not reveal clearly what is right and what wrong. You must pray about it and have faith that your decision will be the right one.”