by Mary Balogh
But there was no closeness. And it worried Lord Amberley as well as Alexandra. He wanted to atone for his faux pas of the day of Joel’s death. He wanted to talk to Alexandra, to penetrate behind that barrier and draw her into his inner life. But she was unapproachable again. She was not hostile or sullen or silent. But she was far away from him. He was left to wonder if he had imagined the afternoon in the hills and the morning on the beach.
He must find the opportunity to talk to her once more. He must bring that bright, vibrant Alex to life again. He must. He thought he was growing to love her. And he did not want to discover that he loved a dream, a woman who did not really exist. But how was he to begin? He was a man who could do a great deal for others when occasion demanded it. But he had no practice in giving himself. He had tried with Alex, more than once, but he was not successful. They were no nearer now to having a close relationship than they had been the morning they had become betrothed.
THE CARRINGTONS HAD PLANNED a picnic for the day after the funeral. All the residents at Amberley had been invited, as well as the Courtneys and the officers of the regiment. Madeline was in high spirits, the gloom of the previous few days behind her. She arrived in Alexandra’s dressing room just as Nanny Rey was dressing her mistress’s hair.
“What a beautiful shade of pink your dress is,” she said. “Most pinks are thoroughly insipid. I avoid the color altogether, of course. With my dull hair color I have to choose something more vivid.”
“Your hair dull, Madeline?” Alexandra said, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “But it is so lovely—so shiny and healthy.”
“I wish I had yours instead,” Madeline said. “It is such a glorious color. Why do you not leave some of it unconfined?”
Alexandra met Nanny Rey’s eyes in the mirror and laughed. “We were just having a dreadful row on that topic when you came in,” she said. “Oh, go on then, Nanny. Enjoy your triumph. Yes, the curls beside my face and on my neck, if you please.”
“I am glad I came,” Madeline said.
“So am I, my lady,” Nanny Rey said, regarding her over the top of her glasses and nodding her head.
Alexandra was rewarded later when Lord Amberley was handing her into the barouche with the other ladies. “How very pretty you look, Alex,” he said. “Quite dazzling, in fact. And what has set you to giggling, Madeline? Have I said something funny?”
Madeline raised her parasol over her straw bonnet, gave it a twirl, and grinned at Alexandra.
The picnic was to be held about a mile from the Carringtons’ house, close to the ruins of an old abbey that had been destroyed centuries before, at the time of the dissolution of the monasteries. It was a quiet, picturesque spot among the trees, close to the top of the valley that led down to Amberley Court.
Everyone except Lady Beckworth and Mrs. Carrington walked to the picnic site. Lady Amberley looked vastly relieved when her sister-in-law good-naturedly offered to ride in the barouche with Alexandra’s mother.
“Viola is just thankful to have an excuse to ride,” Mr. Carrington called out for all to hear.
“Oh, nonsense, William!” his wife replied. “I can outwalk you any day of the week, as you know only too well and Walter and Anna can attest to.”
“I would ride myself,” Mr. Courtney added, “except that I know there would be those to say I am incapable of moving so far of my own volition.”
Two of his sons laughed.
Altogether, it was a merry group that walked across fields and climbed over stiles. Lady Amberley walked thankfully on the arm of Sir Cedric, breathing in the warm smell of vegetation and declaring to him privately that she would have been compelled to scream or steal away on a midnight walk if courtesy had forced her to spend one more day either indoors or seated in a carriage.
“You must call on me if you ever decide on the midnight outing,” he said seriously. “I really would not wish to think of you outdoors alone at such an hour.”
“I might just come knocking at your door one night,” she said with equal seriousness. “Though what the servants would have to say belowstairs if we were seen would create a sensation to last for the next ten years.”
Lord Amberley walked with Mrs. Courtney, shortening his stride for her convenience and listening amiably to a detailed account of every plant that was flourishing in her vegetable garden and every one that was not, and assuring her at regular intervals that, no, she was not boring him in the least. And surprisingly, he thought, glancing around him in some contentment, she was not.
Susan walked with Lieutenant Jennings, blushing and lowering her lashes as he talked, peeping upward at James Purnell, who was with her brothers, and at Lord Eden, who was with Alexandra.
Madeline was happy to be with Captain Forbes, with whom she felt thoroughly comfortable. She was familiar with his particular brand of flattery and flirtation and knew well how to react to it. It was a relief to be able to relax her mind and prattle cheerfully on about topics that mattered little to either him or her. It was such a treat not to have to wonder what he was thinking of her intelligence or what was hidden behind dark, unfathomable eyes. The captain’s eyes were gray and twinkling.
Lord Eden had taken Alexandra determinedly on his arm. He must speak with her. He had lost too much time, and his purpose had cooled. Her response might also not be as favorable as it had been several nights before. But despite all, he was contented to have her with him. As unlike his usual flirt as she was—or perhaps because of that fact—he liked her and found himself able to relax with her and talk sensibly on topics that really mattered to him. One did not have to talk trivialities with Miss Purnell.
It was almost impossible to imagine what the abbey must have looked like, Lord Eden explained to Alexandra, though one could still see the floor plan quite clearly, and the bases of most of the columns that had lined the nave of the large chapel were still in place. He took her to show her what he meant.
“What a shame it is that it was so completely devastated,” she said. “So much history obliterated in the name of religion.”
He shrugged. “That is life, I’m afraid, Miss Purnell,” he said. “War is as bad. We are fortunate that the sea is between us and Europe. We would see a lot more than the destruction of a few old monasteries if we lived there.”
“I would hate it,” she said, “even though I know it is necessary to fight oppression.”
“Yes, it is,” he said, looking at her eagerly. “You talk about history being obliterated, Miss Purnell. But have you thought about how history is being made now, at this very moment, in Spain? If the French are put to rout there and pushed back elsewhere, those who fought against the forces of Bonaparte will have made history. They will have made Europe safe for decent people again. The world safe. How wonderful it would be to be part of the making of that history. Instead of a mere distant witness.”
Alexandra seated herself on one of the broken columns. He looked very eager and very boyish pacing back and forth before her as he was. And very handsome.
“It is the only thing you really want to do, is it not?” she said.
He stopped in front of her. “Yes, the only thing,” he said. “I think I will have regrets for the rest of my life if the war ends without me.”
She smiled. “I think you should go, then,” she said.
“Do you?” He looked at her, arrested, for a moment. Then he stooped down on his haunches in front of her and looked up into her face. “Do you really, Miss Purnell? You are the only person who has ever said that to me. Mama and Madeline almost have the vapors at the merest mention of my purchasing a commission; Sir Cedric tells me that I must consider my mother’s feelings very carefully before I do anything impulsive; Edmund says I must decide for myself. Only you have told me that I should go.”
“But that is not sufficient reason for doing so,” she said. “His lordship is right. The decision must be yours. But I think a person should do what he feels he really must do, even if other people’s feelings are
hurt. Maybe I am wrong. All my life I have been taught that one must do what is right by some outside standard, by some rules that other people have laid down. But I am beginning to think that that is not always so. Perhaps you will have to hurt your mother and your sister. In order to give your life meaning, perhaps that is what you have to do. I don’t know. I really am not qualified to be giving you this advice.”
He caught at her hands and held them tightly in his own. “I love your advice,” he said. “It is what I feel. But to hear it from someone else’s lips seems so much more important. Yes, I must decide for myself, Miss Purnell. I must decide yes or no and then live by that decision. It is very immature, is it not, to dream and to fret and never to do?”
“But very normal, I think,” she said. “It is sometimes the most difficult thing in the world to do what we want to do or else to finally turn our back on it. It is so difficult to be positive. It is so much easier to dither, to allow ourselves to be carried along unhappily by life.”
“You are so very wise,” he said. “I don’t believe I have ever known a lady I admired so much, Miss Purnell. You make me feel a courage and a determination that I have always lacked.” He lifted one of her hands to his lips.
“Oh, no,” she said. “I cannot possibly give you something that is alien to your nature, my lord. And I don’t think I am really very wise. I was merely thinking aloud just now. I am not a very positive person, you see. I have never been taught to consider it a virtue to think for myself.”
“Then it must be that we bring out the best in each other,” he said, squeezing the hand he had just kissed. “I think perhaps we were meant for each other, Miss Purnell. Do you think we were?”
She looked down into his boyish, handsome face and ached to say yes. Simply to say yes and let the consequences take care of themselves. The prospect was for the moment, and quite unreasonably, very attractive.
She returned the pressure of his hands and smiled fondly and a little sadly down at him.
“Dominic, here you are! I knew that you could not have wandered away already. Hello, Miss Purnell. I do so love your dress. I wish I were older and could wear something as pretty myself.” Anna had come around the pile of stones that had hidden them from the rest of the picnickers.
“You look as pretty as a picture just as you are, youngster,” Lord Eden said. “In two or three years’ time you will quite outshine all the other girls and they will hate you for it.”
“Will they?” she asked eagerly. “Will they really, Dominic? How splendid that will be.”
Alexandra joined in Lord Eden’s laughter.
“Walter and Colin Courtney want to go down into the valley,” she said, “and now several of us want to go too. Mama says there will be time before tea. Do you want to come, Dominic?”
“If someone twists my arm, I suppose I might,” he said. “But not if it means fishing anyone out of the water, mind. I am past such pranks. I might ruin my Hessians.” He grinned at Anna and tugged affectionately at the ribbon that held her bonnet closed beneath her chin.
They strolled back to the others and found that indeed most of the young people were on their feet. Colin and Howard Courtney and Walter had already begun the descent. Madeline and Captain Forbes were looking down through the trees. Lieutenant Jennings was talking to Susan.
“I really do not know if I ought,” she was saying, looking up at him through her lashes. “The hill is steep and I will delay you and spoil your afternoon, sir.”
“It would be my pleasure, Miss Courtney,” he said with a gallant bow.
“What, Susan?” Lord Eden said. “You are not afraid, are you? We will have to see that you regain your courage. You must take the lieutenant’s arm and mine. One on a side. That way you cannot fall even if you try to do so.”
“Oh, you are very kind,” she said, looking up at him with large eyes and doing as she was bidden.
Purnell waited until Sir Cedric came to the end of a sentence and rose to his feet. He strolled over to a disconsolate-looking Anna.
“I do not believe for one moment,” he said, “that you are so chickenhearted as to need my arm. But would you like to take it anyway, Miss Carrington, so that we may descend the slope like a sedate adult pair?”
“Oh.” She looked up at him and blushed. Then she smiled, turned an eager face to her mother, and linked her arm through his—for the world as if she were being led into a quadrille at St. James’s, her father said with a chuckle to Mrs. Courtney beside him.
“Mr. Purnell is a kind young man,” Mr. Courtney said. He shook his head. “Young people! Running up and down hills for the simple pleasure of doing so. If I were to go down, it would take a team of oxen to haul me back up again.” He laughed merrily at his own joke.
“It would be easier to float down the river to Amberley, would it not?” Mr. Carrington said, causing his neighbor to guffaw loudly again.
“William!” his wife scolded. “That was not at all a genteel thing to say. Take no notice of him, Mr. Courtney. William likes to tease.”
“The river might overflow its bank, though,” Mr. Courtney said, “and cause a flood.”
The two men chuckled as Mrs. Carrington clucked her tongue, Lady Amberley exchanged an amused glance with Sir Cedric, and Lady Beckworth looked disapproving.
Lord Amberley got to his feet. “Shall we do something less energetic than climbing, Alex?” he said. “Shall we stroll along the top?”
THE DESCENT OF A STEEP wooded bank was not nearly enough exercise for the young men. They must cross the river too, an activity made all the more challenging by the fact that the water at this particular part of its slightly downhill course was fast-flowing, though not deep.
“Those two stones in the middle have disappeared since I was last here,” Walter said, pointing. “They were always loose. I’m not at all surprised that they have gone. Though where did they go, do you suppose?”
“Washed away to sea?” Colin suggested, and won a withering look from his brother for his pains.
“Taken by the village boys, more like,” Howard said.
“Wouldn’t they be too heavy?” asked Walter.
But the problem of what had happened to the stones was forgotten in the intriguing question of what they were to do to get across the gap without wetting themselves to the knees.
“You could jump,” Madeline suggested, coming up to them on the arm of Captain Forbes. “I think it would be possible. And the suspense of not being quite certain would definitely add a thrill.”
“Father would not be amused if we missed, though, Lady Madeline,” Howard said, giving her an adoring look despite the foolhardiness of her suggestion. “We are all in our best rig-outs.”
“What is the problem?” Lord Eden wanted to know. “Oh, no stones. And I suppose it is imperative that everyone go across? Yes, of course it is. How foolish of me to ask the question. We will just have to carry out new stones.”
The men and boys set about this exciting task with a will, while Madeline and Anna joined in the search for suitable stones. Susan hovered in the background. In no time at all Captain Forbes and Lord Eden were staggering to the bank and across the stones already in place with a huge flat-bottomed rock in their hands. When that was in place with no further casualty than a splashing of water on Lord Eden’s Hessians, Lieutenant Jennings and James Purnell set out with an even larger rock and bridged the final gap.
“Now,” Lord Eden announced, “we may all troop safely across and admire the grass and trees on that side of the river.”
Walter was the first across, followed by the captain and the lieutenant. He was taking them to the top of the hill opposite, from which vantage point they might command a view down the valley to Amberley, a sight denied them from the picnic site because of a bend in the river. Everyone else politely declined such energetic exercise. Captain Forbes, it was true, hesitated when Madeline showed no eagerness to accompany him, but she waved him on.
“Oh, do not mind me
,” she said airily. “I see Amberley almost every day of my life. Why would I wish to climb a hill in this heat merely to see it from a distance?”
“Are you coming across, Dominic?” Anna asked. “Usually I am forbidden to go near the river, but I know Mama will not mind my crossing if you are with me.”
“I shall stay here,” Susan said timidly. “I would fall in, I know I would. But please do not let me spoil anyone else’s pleasure.”
“Come on, Miss Carrington,” Howard said. “Come with Colin and me. There is a good fishing spot farther along the bank. Let’s see if we can find it.”
“Oh, yes,” she said, brightening. “Walter has promised that he will take me fishing this year, but he never does.”
She went running lightly across the stepping-stones, holding her dress above her ankles, Howard in front of her and Colin behind.
“Susan,” Lord Eden said, amusement in his voice, “will you not cross over even if I hold your hand very tightly? The stones are quite steady, you know. You would have to try very hard to fall in, I swear.”
“Oh, no,” she said, favoring him with a wide-eyed look from her hazel eyes. “Please, my lord. I would positively die of fright. But do go with Lady Madeline and Mr. Purnell. I shall go back to Mama.”
“I would not dream of deserting you,” he said good-humoredly. “Come, we will stroll along on this side. I shall walk next to the bank so that you cannot possibly slip and fall. Will you take my arm?”
“Oh, how kind you are,” she said, slipping an arm through his.
MADELINE WAS LEFT WISHING she had gone with the captain after all. How had it happened so suddenly that instead of a whole crowd of people surrounding her, she was left with a silent Mr. Purnell? How mortifyingly embarrassing!