This problem brought Alexa to another difficult question. Would she be able to persuade her guardian to give permission for the whole ambitious undertaking? Yes, it must be possible. Margaret herself had been ambitious as a young woman and had seized her chance to take a training and make a career for herself. She would feel at least a little sympathy for Alexa’s hopes. Her doubts had always been about the threat which a theatrical life posed to the good reputation of any young woman. There could be no objection, surely, to this preliminary arrangement, made by her own brother with a family of such undoubted respectability as the Glanvilles. Alexa’s anxiety on this score was not too great. The financial problems loomed larger in her mind than the social or moral ones – of which, indeed, she was hardly aware.
She was still lying awake, wondering how far Mr Glanville’s generosity was likely to extend, and how far she could ever recompense him, when the question answered itself. She heard footsteps approaching along the corridor. They came to a halt, and the door of her bedroom opened.
7
When one unexpected event after another in the course of a single day has turned out to be for the best, even a disquieting occurrence may briefly seem capable of bearing a favourable interpretation. There was nothing stealthy about the opening of Alexa’s bedroom door, and nothing furtive about the movements of her patron as he came into the room. Alexa was naturally alarmed; but for a second she managed to persuade herself that he had arrived only as a polite host to make sure that she was comfortable, perhaps not expecting her to have retired to bed so early. The reassurance vanished as he closed the door behind him and put the lamp he carried down on her bedside table. Earlier in the evening she had found his smile unpleasant. Now it terrified her. She pulled the sheet up to her chin.
‘What are you doing here, sir?’
‘Did you think the audition was over?’ Mr Glanville enquired. Her eyes, wide with alarm, must have shown him the answer. ‘I take it this was something that Mr Lorimer forgot to mention.’
The thought obviously increased his amusement. He sat down on the edge of the bed. Alexa scrambled out of it on the other side and waited, breathless with fear, to see how she could get past him to the only door of the room.
‘Don’t be stupid,’ he said. ‘A couple of hours ago you were willing enough to accept favours. Did you expect them all to come free? it’s time you grew up. There’s a price to be paid for everything, my dear. In this case, I flatter myself that you will find the price as acceptable as the career you are buying with it. I shall keep my side of the bargain. It is hardly too much to ask that it should provide me with as much satisfaction as you.’
‘There is no bargain,’ said Alexa. ‘Yes, I have been stupid. I was told you were a gentleman. I thought–’
The smile faded from his face and anger made him ugly as he stood up and strode towards her. Alexa flung herself across the bed in an effort to reach the door. He caught her by one foot and she kicked him with the other, hard enough to send him staggering off balance backwards. Sobbing and slithering she flung the door open and rushed out into the corridor, charging head-first into Lord Glanville.
She clung to him in relief, still sobbing as she buried her head in his chest. But even now she could not feel safe. The two men were brothers. They might be in league – or at least not prepared to quarrel over a stranger. The silence seemed to last a long time; but Alexa dared not look up, in case she should see the same smile on Lord Glanville’s face as on his younger brother’s. Certainly his voice, when at last he spoke, was light and apparently uncritical.
‘My dear Duncan, you don’t usually need to press your attentions on young women by force. One has been led to believe that as a rule they fling themselves at your feet.’
‘This one’s a fool. Says she didn’t realize –’
‘And perhaps she didn’t.’ There was a new edge of harshness to Lord Glanville’s aristocratic drawl. He still spoke pleasantly enough, but definitely.
‘Don’t worry. I can persuade her.’
‘No doubt you can, dear boy,’ agreed Lord Glanville. ‘But not tonight.’
‘I could say that it’s none of your damn business,’ protested his brother.
‘And I could say that while Miss Lorimer is a guest in this house I am responsible for her. Goodnight, Duncan.’
The answering goodnight was sulky, but not accompanied by any further protest. Alexa, who had held her breath during this exchange, began to cry again, gulping for air but still clinging tightly to her protector. He released her grip gently and led her back into her bedroom. As she sat down on the side of the bed, he leaned back against the door, looking down at her from his great height.
‘One can only assume that there must have been some misunderstanding,’ he said. ‘You can go back to bed now. You will be safe enough tonight.’
‘And tomorrow?’ asked Alexa. She was still trembling with the panic she had felt as Lord Glanville’s brother had grabbed at her.
‘My brother has not favoured me with details of the arrangement under which you came here,’ said Lord Glanville. ‘If you wish to end it and return home, the servants will be instructed to see that you are safely set on your way. My Wife and I will be leaving for the Continent early in the morning, so we cannot help you personally.’ He took out his purse. ‘You have come from Bristol, I understand. Have you enough money for the return journey?’
Alexa’s tears began to flow again. In her frightened state, Lord Glanville appeared as the only protector she could trust, and the thought that he was about to leave increased her feeling of helplessness. ‘I cannot go back to Bristol!’ she exclaimed.
‘Who sent you here?’ asked Lord Glanville. ‘My brother mentioned a Mr Lorimer.’
‘Yes, he sent me. He was supposed to look after me, but he sent me here. And he knew, he must have known, what was going to happen. It’s unthinkable that I should return there.’ Even at the time Alexa – well aware that William Lorimer had never particularly liked her – had felt surprised that he should be so helpful. It was easy for her now to assume that everything which had happened was part of a deliberate plot.
Lord Glanville put his money back in his pocket and came right into the room to sit in an arm-chair. He stared at her with a serious expression on his face.
‘I take it that Mr Lorimer is not your father, then,’ he commented.
‘No, my lord. My father died when I was a baby, and my mother a few years later. I was adopted into the Lorimer family. But Mr Lorimer is no relation of mine at all, and I never want to see him again.’
‘Where else could you go, then, if you are unwilling to return to your guardian?’
Lord Glanville’s natural enough mistake in assuming that William Lorimer was her guardian was hardly noticed by Alexa. There was an answer to his question, and she would have to give it – because of course she could go back to Margaret, who was expecting her return, although not at any precise moment.
And that, Alexa realized, would be the end of all her dreams. Only an hour earlier she had imagined herself persuading her guardian that an opera singer could live a life untouched by scandal, whether rumoured or real. She would have described herself as the protégée of a family which was above reproach. How could she honestly do that now? And if she told the truth, Margaret could hardly be expected not to point out that the incident confirmed all her previous warnings about the immorality of a stage career. There would never be another chance.
The disappointment of knowing her hopes to be dashed so soon after they had been raised caused Alexa to let out a groan of anguish.
‘I want so much to be a singer!’ she cried, with all the passion of her unhappiness. ‘But I’m only eighteen, and I don’t know what I should do. There’s no one to help me. Except your brother; but I’ve been brought up to believe that what he expects of me is wrong.’
‘You are quite right to think so, and your attitude does you credit. No, don’t start crying again.’
; He was too late. Alexa was no longer frightened, but she wept from self-pity – for the collapse of her hopes, the defeat of her ambitions, the loss of her lover, the dismal future which lay ahead. Lord Glanville stood up again.
‘Wait a moment,’ he said. ‘Someone had better prepare you a hot drink. It will help you settle to sleep.’
He was gone longer than the giving of an order would have necessitated – so long, in fact, that Alexa began to feel she had been abandoned. Desperately she searched her mind for some alternative to the dullness of a country life, some plan which would meet Margaret’s standards of respectability.
Her most immediate thought was the most impossible. Once before, when she was only nine years old, she had performed for a few months in music halls in order to earn money for her dying mother. Alexa had never forgotten those months, and her feeling of power and pride every time she had managed to reduce a noisy audience to silence, forcing them to listen to her singing and to love her. Even with no more experience than that, it was likely that her voice and appearance would gain her employment of the same kind again now. But not even Alexa could argue that a music hall was a respectable environment. And how hurt Margaret would be to learn that her ward preferred such a way of life to the one offered by herself and Robert. It was impossible. Of course it was impossible. But she must do something, she told herself. She must do something.
Lord Glanville returned at last, and sat down.
‘Now then, Miss Lorimer,’ he said. ‘We must consider your future. It’s difficult for me to know what help would be of most advantage to you. I may feel that my family has some responsibility for the difficulty of your situation – in point of fact, I do most strongly feel that – but without having very much opportunity to discharge that responsibility. You ought to be sent home, of course, but your reluctance to return to Mr Lorimer’s house is understandable. I have been discussing your position with my wife.’ He hesitated, as though an effort were needed for him to continue. ‘We had a daughter who, if she had lived, would have been almost your age by now. Lady Glanville was greatly affected, I believe, by – well, the details are not important. She has suggested that what we could offer you, if you would like it, is a little time, so that you may consider what you want to do without the spur of insecurity. If you would care to travel with us to Germany tomorrow, Lady Glanville would appreciate your help as a companion while she is taking the waters. Her maid will be with her, of course, and there are attendants at the spa, so your duties would not be onerous. But to lie all day in a bath is tedious, and I shall have to return to England as soon as I have seen her comfortably settled. You could perhaps read to her, and accompany her on whatever walks she can manage. This would be for a few months only, but it would allow time for reflection. It’s possible, too, that we could find a singing teacher for you in Baden-Baden.’
Alexa hardly needed to hesitate. She had already realized that a return to Elm Lodge now would mean the defeat of her hopes for ever. And the attraction between herself and Lady Glanville had been mutual as well as immediate. To act as a companion was the most proper of employments and the promise of singing lessons meant that her ambitions need not yet be completely buried.
There was one difficulty – that if she were to leave early the next morning she would have no chance to get in touch with Margaret first, and it would not be easy, either, to write during the course of the journey. But then, Margaret believed her ward to be safely at Brinsley House. There would be nothing in a few days’ silence to worry her, and a letter which came in the end from a semi-permanent address and which described a working arrangement would be more reassuring than a tentative proposal. Alexa began to express her gratitude, but Lord Glanville’s mind was running in the same direction as her own.
‘Does your guardian have the telephone?’ he enquired.
Alexa shook her head. She meant by that that Margaret could not be reached by telephone; but even if she had realized that Lord Glanville was referring to William Lorimer, it would have made no difference to her answer. There was no instrument at Brinsley House, but only at the offices of the Lorimer Line, which William would not reach until after the Glanvilles had begun their journey.
‘Then you understand that I must write a letter,’ Lord Glanville said. ‘You are under age. I cannot simply take you out of the country without saying anything. However, since we must leave early, I see no reason why we should, not take the answer for granted. If your guardian was willing to entrust you to my brother’s care without a chaperone, there can be no possible objection to your travelling with my wife. But of course, if you are summoned back to England, you will have to come. Will you travel with us on those terms?’
‘My lord!’ Alexa sprang to her feet and held out both hands towards him in relief and thanks, forgetting that she was wearing only her nightdress. The events of the past few days had given her little reason to think that she was a good judge of character. She had believed that Matthew was in love with her, that William Lorimer had wanted to help her, that the Honourable Duncan Glanville was interested only in her voice; and in each of these beliefs it seemed that she had been mistaken. But this time, she felt sure, she was not wrong in believing that Lord Glanville was a kind and upright man.
Even with this confidence she was briefly disturbed as he took her outstretched hands and smiled at her. Her life at Elm Lodge had offered her no experience of men. Within the past few days she had seen Matthew Lorimer look at her with all the tenderness of young love – or so she had thought at the time. Within the past few hours she had seen lust in the eyes of Duncan Glanville. Lord Glanville’s smile was different again. There was admiration in it, and sympathy, and something else which she could not quite identify.
But he was not a young man like the other two. He must be almost forty. Old enough to be her father, as he had indirectly pointed out himself: the explanation seemed sufficient at once. What his smile revealed was undoubtedly a kind of fatherly affection. She smiled whole-heartedly back at him.
‘I shall be very happy to travel with you, my lord,’ she said.
PART II
Alexa Abroad
1
Even a town wholly devoted to the cure of sickness is not a depressing place when most of its visitors suffer from nothing more than greed. Baden-Baden was one of the most fashionable resorts in Europe during its season. Beneath the glittering chandeliers of the Casino some of the wealthiest men in the world gambled away fortunes with gold and silver tokens; while in the arcade outside its doors their wives and mistresses chose beautiful jewellery, elaborate hats and the most exclusive styles of fans, shoes or gloves. The ladies who promenaded on the rich green lawns around the Trinkhalle, or along its colonnaded concourse, were often too plump to be elegant, but could certainly claim to be expensively dressed.
The glitter and animation of the spa brightened Alexa’s eyes in excitement when she first arrived. Behind the town a romantic backcloth of dark, forested hills framed a ruined castle perched on a crag. The wild panorama and the swirling scandals of society both appealed to a side of her nature which had been for far too long smothered by the conventions imposed by the Lorimer family.
But her hopes of gaiety and entertainment did not survive for long. Baden-Baden was a resort for the wealthy and offered little to a dependant. Lord Glanville lost no time in settling his wife comfortably into the Haus des Kurgastes and discussing with the Kurhaus doctors what course of treatment could best alleviate the pain from which she suffered.
He had business to do in Vienna but would return, he promised, within a few days – to satisfy himself that all was well before he travelled back to England. Almost at once a daily routine was established which left Alexa little time for new experiences. Lady Glanville spent every morning in the thermal baths at the Friedrichsbad, taking comfort from their heat and aeration. Alexa was not expected to attend her there. It was in the afternoon and evening that her company was appreciated. At the invalid’s slow pace
they walked together along the Lichtentaler Allee and beside the shallow stream in which basked fish as fat and greedy as the old men who nursed their gout along its banks. There was a ceremony of drinking the waters at the Trinkhalle and hardly less of a ceremony in taking tea or hot chocolate with a small group of acquaintances. Lady Glanville did not play cards, and always retired early to bed. Such a routine demanded little of Alexa, but she could find no profitable way to spend her free time. She had hardly had time yet to be bored, but already she sighed with the anticipation of boredom.
Her ennui bred dissatisfaction, which increased as the season ended. The autumn sunshine lost its strength and the flowers which trailed from every balcony in the spa were chilled into bedragglement. Overnight the ornamental beds in the Casino garden were robbed of their brightness by the first touch of frost, and the neatly manicured trees of the Kurhaus park drooped sadly, their brown leaves falling with the soft rain. There was a feeling of life retreating in every sense – for with the approach of winter the wealthy men departed, leaving only the oldest and most infirm of their own sex and the most indolent or ailing of their wives.
There were never many young people in Baden-Baden: now suddenly it seemed that there were none at all. Except, of course, for the sturdy attendants who were employed to push wheelchairs – but although they could hardly fail to notice Alexa’s youth and beauty, they had learned that it was more profitable to fawn on the elderly ladies who employed them. Alexa felt herself drooping like the flowers, overwhelmed by a feeling of time passing. To Lord Glanville in London she had cried out in anguish that she was only eighteen. Now the emphasis had changed. She was almost nineteen, and nothing was happening, nothing was going to happen: she was making no progress towards the goal on which she had set her heart.
The Lorimer Legacy Page 5