by Patty Bryant
“You taught me not to trust something that seems too good to be true. To get something, one always has to give up something in return. We all make our own deals with life.”
Savitri blinked, sudden emotion clogging her throat.
Alexander went on, gently stroking the curve of her cheek with a single finger. “You gave up India, but took the chance to travel to England. If you take me, you will be giving up the life you’ve had – governessing may not be very grand, but it was safe and reliable and you knew it. Before I met you, I thought that I could have it all: the regard of society, the respect due to my family name, some suitably pretty and proper wife, and my own happiness. But now I know that I must have you. I’d throw away all the rest just for you.”
“Even that pretty and proper wife?” Savitri asked, managing a somewhat quavery laugh.
“She would cost me my happiness,” Alexander said, his voice deadly serious. “No. I’ll take you instead.” He bent his head to her hand from where it rested on his shoulder, brushing a kiss across her knuckles. Then he looked up at her, thick eyelashes framing his blue eyes. “It’s the best deal I’ve ever made.”
Savitri pressed closer to him, raising her face for a kiss, when the door next to them opened and they sprang apart.
Penelope stood in the doorframe, wearing a dress that was several seasons out of fashion and which had clearly been made over at least twice, presumably after her last growth spurt. Fortunately it was made of a fine muslin with a floral print in pale pink and was perfectly appropriate for a young woman of Penelope’s status, even if the hem was no longer quite straight. She had even attempted to braid her hair. It still looked rather ragged but it wouldn’t draw attention.
Alexander cleared his throat, straightened his overcoat, and gave his niece a dignified nod. “Very good. I must say, I’m quite impressed at the speed at which you are able to effect such transformations.”
Penelope pursed her lips, uncertain if she should take that as a compliment or not.
Alexander turned to Savitri. “Any other preparations needed before we may depart?”
She shook her head, and he gestured for the two women to precede him down the hallway. They made their way through the busy pub without drawing more than a few glances but when they reached the carriage, the driver visibly goggled at Penelope’s presence. Alexander ignored the man, turning his back on him to hand Savitri and Penelope into the carriage. Penelope took her lead from him easily enough, and settled onto the seat within as though nothing unusual was happening.
Savitri, though, hesitated when Alexander would have lifted her up the step and into the carriage. “You’ll have to tell him something,” she whispered, “otherwise he’ll be sure to tell the other servants as soon as we arrive home.” She was all too familiar with how quickly rumor could spread through the kitchens and stables and other back rooms of a wealthy household. Once she had been grateful for it – it was always helpful to know a little more than your employer thought you knew – but now that she was on the other side, she wished there was a way to avoid it.
Alexander’s shoulders stiffened but he managed not to immediately glance at the driver. “I don’t suppose I can give him a guinea and have that be the end of the matter, can I?”
She giggled. His tone had been so exactly that of a petulant little boy she had once taught that she couldn’t help but see the humor in the situation, despite the ongoing risk to Penelope’s reputation. “No, Your Grace, money does not actually solve all problems.”
They had been standing in place for too long, and the driver was beginning to shift his curious gaze from what he could see of Penelope within the carriage to them. Sudden inspiration struck, and Savitri raised her voice – not enough to be obvious, but enough so that the driver could easily overhear. “How strange for Mrs. Ashbury to meet Lady Penelope in such a place,” she said, dropping in the first name that came to mind. Savitri had never met an Ashbury, but it seemed like the sort of name that a captain’s wife might have. “I am sure that when her mother gave Penelope permission to visit the family who had been so gracious and welcoming on our journey, she expected it would be somewhere more genteel than this!”
Alexander’s eyebrows raised momentarily in surprise, but he caught on quickly and patted the back of her hand in sympathy. “Come now, it was perfectly respectable inside. A bit close to the docks, perhaps, but what else could one expect from a family with naval connections? And Mrs. Ab – Ashbury” – he stumbled over the name only momentarily – “was so apologetic that I don’t have the heart to hold it against her.”
“Yes, I suppose you’re right. I’m just glad that Penelope sent for us before lunch. A brief morning visit with them was more than adequate; there was no need for her to spend all day in such company.” Savitri kept a discreet eye on the driver, but he had already turned away to check on the horses, his look of curiosity dying away to be replaced with annoyance at her put-upon snobbery. She hated to do it, and didn’t imagine that it would help her standing with the other servants, but it was the first explanation that had leap to mind.
“As you say,” Alexander murmured with a discreet wink, then handed her into the carriage, following behind.
Savitri relaxed back into her seat and sighed as the door was closed and the horses began to move forward. They had found Penelope and maneuvered past this first obstacle, but they weren’t done yet. And even once Penelope was entirely safe at home, there would be the reactions to the engagement between her and Alexander to deal with. For a moment it all seemed too much, and fear rose up once more within her, urging her to call off the wedding before anyone else knew.
A warm hand enveloped her own, squeezing reassuringly. Savitri turned to Alexander, who was looking at her as though he had sensed her wavering. “Now, Penelope,” he said, turning to his niece, “remember our deal. I wouldn’t like to make a fool of myself in front of my driver more than once.”
Savitri laughed in response and her fear dissolved, replaced by confidence that whatever came next, she would be able to handle it together with Alexander.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Alexander caught sight of his townhouse through the drizzling rain outside the carriage’s window and realized that he felt quite a bit like his namesake: a conquering hero returning home with the prizes he had won. Although on second thought Alexander the Great had never made it back to Macedonia, so perhaps Alexander Ware, Duke of Clermont, was actually better off. Penelope had been located and was returning to her family with so little scandal that it seemed nearly miraculous, and even more astonishing was the fact that Savitri had accepted his proposal of marriage. He turned to look at her, knowing that his happiness must be foolishly apparent from his expression and yet not caring at all. She pretended not to notice his gaze on her but a faint blush of pleasure warmed her cheeks from golden brown to rose.
Due to the inclement weather, the carriage pulled to a halt only a few feet from the front door of the townhouse. Alexander waited until one of the servants had opened the door for them and then handed the women down, retaining Savitri’s hand in his own as Penelope raced ahead of them to avoid the rain. He couldn’t help taking advantage of the brief touch to squeeze her hand, and she returned the pressure, sending a thrill through him. She looked beautiful but decorous, her head slightly bowed and her hands clad in cheap white gloves that strongly contrasted the extravagant red velvet cloak she was currently wearing. He loved her contradictions. He wanted to be alone with her, so that he could see once more how she was capable of shedding that decorum like an unnecessary layer of clothes; he wanted to feel her hand squeezing another part of him.
But it wasn’t the right moment.
As they entered the front hall side by side, Alexander was confronted with more bodies than should be in such a small space and a steadily increasing volume of noise, a shock not dissimilar from being dashed with a bucket of cold water when one was still wrapped in a warm bed.
His sister-in-la
w Lady Louisa seemed to be the center of attention. She was dressed for outdoors with a pelisse over her dress and pattens to protect her shoes from the mud, and in one hand she was waving what appeared to be a letter. Alexander’s butler was standing attentively at her side, attempting to calm her down, and the footman who was holding the front door was gawking at the spectacle, as were the two maids peeping around the corner of the hallway. At Alexander’s entrance the maids disappeared and Louisa cut herself off.
“Alexander! I need – “ She caught sight of her daughter and once more stopped in the middle of her sentence. “Penelope? But….” She looked down at the letter she held, her brows lowering in confusion.
Alexander mentally cursed as he recognized the note he himself had written for her. He hadn’t expected Penelope to be so easily returned but, since she had been, he judged it better if the matter were passed over with as little attention as possible. He stepped forward, bowed shortly to Louisa, and then neatly plucked the letter from her hand. “How unfortunate that my man should have upset you by giving you this note. It was written in a moment of agitation, and I assure you that the contents were entirely due to a misunderstanding. As you can see for yourself, Penelope has gone nowhere. She and Miss Booth were out seeing some of the educational sites of London.”
Lady Louisa frowned at him. Alexander supposed that it must be quite a shock to be told that one’s daughter had run away and then to be told that she had done no such thing, all in under five minutes. It wasn’t a surprise that she was slow to accept his new version of events. He kept his face composed, giving away nothing, and she transferred her glare to the women behind him.
“Miss Booth, in the future I would prefer to be informed before – is that my cloak you’re wearing?”
“I offered it to her,” Alexander interjected, not giving Savitri a chance to respond.
Louisa gaped at him, her blue eyes wide with shock. She was a remarkably pretty woman despite having borne three children and her years spent in India, where the tropical climate and diseases could be harsh on British women. But Alexander was utterly unmoved by his sister-in-law’s beauty; he had known her for long enough to know that it was not backed up by intelligence, passion, kindness, or any other human quality that might distinguish her from a well-made porcelain doll. Luckily his brother was equally shallow, and the two of them were remarkably happy in their marriage.
“Why would you do such a thing?” Louisa asked, sounding as anguished as if he had confessed to drowning a puppy.
“It is raining today, as well as quite cold.”
“But my –“
“Lady Louisa,” Alexander said, ruthlessly interrupting, “there is an important matter that I must discuss with you immediately. Would you accompany me into the parlor?”
“Yes, all right,” she said with an air of distraction, finally beginning to unbutton her pelisse in order to hand it to the butler who still waited nearby. “Penelope, go upstairs and I will come and see you shortly; I simply have no idea why you chose such an old dress, but have your maid ready something better immediately. Miss Booth, go with her and – oh, and where is Lucy? Surely you didn’t leave her behind, did you? I am sure she is old enough to attend whatever ‘educational site’ you felt was appropriate for her sister. Well, we will discuss it later. For now go and attend to her while Penelope is changing, Miss Booth.”
Hearing Savitri ordered about so peremptorily sent sudden anger spiking through Alexander. They hadn’t discussed her role as governess yet; she wouldn’t be able to continue as such once she was his duchess, but this was perhaps not the time to announce her departure either, with no preparation and in front of curious servants. In the bustle as they all attended to removing their wet outerwear and handing it to the servants, he caught her eye. “Savitri?” he murmured quietly.
She nodded at him, her hand slipping out from beneath that damned cloak to brush against his reassuringly. He realized that she was used to such treatment and knew how to endure it, though even her acceptance seemed maddening to him.
Louisa stepped between them, her back pointedly turned toward Savitri, who rolled her eyes before moving to assist Penelope. Louisa sniffed and said, in what she probably thought was a discreet undertone, “I’m sure you thought it was necessary, but in the future you really must refrain from letting the servants wear my clothes.”
“Miss Booth is not a servant,” Alexander said, stung.
Louisa flapped a hand. “Regardless. And besides, she receives a very decent salary and should be perfectly capable of purchasing her own clothes, ones that are more appropriate to her station. If she cannot, I do assure you that it is not my fault, nor that of your brother.”
Alexander felt his anger turn from hot to cold, and recognized the icy calm that had given him his nickname. He had never before been tempted to turn this aspect of his personality on his family before, but he suddenly realized that it was only because he had never cared enough to do so. Family meant honor, meant upholding his name and his own distinction and long-held prestige, but all of that was nothing compared to the passion Savitri had woken in him. He tolerated his brother and sister-in-law, but he did not love them the way he loved her.
“And what is her ‘station’?”
“Oh, well, I suppose you are correct, not truly a servant,” Louisa tittered, “but neither is she the sister of a duke!”
“No.” Alexander felt himself smile, as narrow and sharp as a knife. “A Duchess is considered much higher, is she not?”
Another laugh escaped Louisa, then she frowned in confusion and tilted her head to the side like a particularly adorable kitten. “I’m afraid I don’t understand the joke, dear Alexander.”
Alexander felt no softening of his anger, which sat inside his chest like a block of ice had hardened around his heart. “There’s no joke to understand. I have proposed to Miss Booth, and she has been gracious enough to accept me.” He looked past Louisa to where Savitri stood beside Penelope at the foot of the stairs. Penelope was grinning with excitement and bouncing forward onto her toes, but Savitri was frowning with resignation, wearing an expression that said as clearly as words could I told you so. Nonetheless, when he looked at her Alexander felt something more than cold and hard; he felt vulnerable and afraid and unsure. It was wonderful. Savitri made him feel like he was nothing more than an ordinary man, and he had been lacking that for his whole life. Now that he had found it, no one could make him give her up.
Wholly focused on Savitri, he shouldered past Louisa – not on purpose, but he didn’t entirely regret the accident either – and reached out to his new bride-to-be. Savitri hesitated, biting her lip as her eyes flickered over his shoulder to consider Louisa, but whatever doubts she had, they didn’t win. She turned her gaze back to him and confidently placed her hand in his.
Penelope made a high-pitched squeak of delight, then covered her mouth with both hands. No one acknowledged her.
Alexander tucked Savitri’s arm under his elbow as he turned, bringing them both to face Louisa in a pose like some ancient knight and his lady carved upon a church wall. The butler and footman were still watching as well, he realized ruefully, but nothing could be done about that now and besides, the news would get out to the rest of the household soon enough. Might as well begin here as anywhere else.
“Miss Booth, I know that you and Lady Louisa are already familiar with one another, but she is unaware that I have fallen quite desperately in love with you.” The corner of Savitri’s mouth twitched; she managed to keep her face steady, but Alexander knew she was only barely stopping herself from laughing at his melodramatic choice of words. “Allow me to introduce her to you again as Lady Louisa Ware, your future sister-in-law. She is currently visiting our townhouse, but I am sure we will continue to see her frequently even once she has moved to a home of her own.
“And Louisa, I present Savitri Booth, soon to be the Duchess of Clermont.”
Louisa opened her mouth, said nothing, and
shut it again. Into the silence Penelope whispered far too loudly, “Oh, it’s just like the story of Cinderella!”
Louisa’s dainty frown deepened to real anger and her eyes narrowed, but just as she opened her mouth once more, a knock came at the door. For a moment everyone in the room looked at one another, disconcerted by the interruption to their grand moment. Finally the butler cleared his throat. “Shall I answer that, your Grace?”
Alexander nodded, too surprised to consider how else to respond.
Lord Charles Highsmith entered, bringing with him a scattering of raindrops and a gust of wind. His greatcoat was half off before he noticed the six silent faces staring at him. He froze, eyebrows shooting nearly to his hairline. “Good afternoon, Alexander,” he said slowly. “I seem to have made a mistake. I was under the impression that you had asked me to come by so that we could discuss our votes on the proposed Game Laws before Parliament sits again. But I see now that you must have named some other time, and I simply forgot.” He settled his greatcoat once more firmly upon his shoulders and turned to leave.
Alexander had never particularly liked the older man, though he was a useful political ally. Still, he couldn’t help but be impressed at his adroit response to an awkward situation – and for the fact that the man’s speech had given Alexander the moment he needed to compose himself. “Nonsense, Charles,” he said briskly, “you’ve arrived at the perfect time. I was just introducing Lady Louisa to Miss Booth, my fiancee. Have you met Miss Booth?” It was an outrageous bouncer, as he knew that there was no possibility the snobbish earl would have deigned to notice a governess, and one who was not purely English at that.
But just as he expected, Charles Highsmith defaulted to politeness whenever he was uncertain. “I have not,” he said with a stiffly correct bow. “Congratulations on the upcoming nuptials to you both.”
Savitri inclined her head in such an exact imitation of gracious condescension that Alexander nearly spoiled the effect with a laugh. His good mood evaporated an instant later as Louisa stepped forward furiously, clearly about to correct Highsmith’s mistaken impression. Alexander moved faster than she could, cutting her off by clapping Highsmith on the back. “My apologies for involving you in these family matters. Shall we head to the library where we can converse without interruptions?”