The Runaway Chaperone: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Alice Kirks

  “My Lady, here are your garments. If you’ll allow me?”

  Alexandra turned to go, feeling shy. She didn’t want to stay during the time Arabella was getting dressed, but Arabella called back to her.

  “Stay, Alexandra. We can get another maid to help you. Or Brenna will do you when she’s finished with me…isn’t that right?”

  “Yes, my Lady,” Brenna nodded, a smile on her easygoing, heart-shaped face.

  ***

  “Brother, we still have plenty of time, don’t we?” Arabella asked. Matthew nodded.

  “What time is it?” Arabella persisted. She clambered up into the coach, and Matthew recalled at the last moment that he was supposed to give her a hand-up into the back. He reached out and helped her up.

  “Alexandra!” Arabella called, sitting down and turning to look out through the door. “Come on up!”

  Matthew glanced at the chaperone, holding his breath as she took his hand. She met his gaze. It was impossible to tell what she was thinking. He stepped back, feeling deeply affected.

  “It’s a lovely day,” she said softly as Arabella grinned at her. Matthew nodded, and vaulted up, sitting beside his sister. That placed him with an empty place opposite, and room to stretch his legs. He found himself hanging on Alexandra’s words.

  She looked stunning. He had never imagined she could look like this. With her hair up, her lovely long neck shown to best advantage by the low-cut dress, she was exquisite. He had never seen anybody as beautiful and he could barely keep his mouth from dropping to gape.

  She was sitting straight-backed, and Matthew thought that the dress, with its soft layers of muslin, suited her perfectly. She looked elegant and delicate and he found himself longing to kiss her.

  “It’ll be a big gathering,” Arabella told her. The sound of her voice brought Matthew back to the present.

  “I imagine so. There must be plenty of noble houses hereabouts,” Alexandra said. She looked nervous, and Matthew found himself worried for her.

  It’s a big expectation on her. I hope she doesn’t feel afraid.

  He smiled at her and was surprised by the wide-eyed look in return. She seemed genuinely astonished that he was being friendly, and he winced, uncomfortable.

  She must think I am a dreadful fellow!

  He considered his actions, shocked at his foolishness. He had spent the afternoon shouting at her in a way that was utterly unbefitting for a master to shout at a member of staff, and now here he was, sitting with her in a coach! He hadn’t had any chance to apologize. He cleared his throat.

  “It is a large gathering, but the grounds at the estate are extensive, and we’ll not all be crowded in one room. I think you will like them,” he added, “and I would love to show you around them.”

  Where had that come from? He blushed. Arabella didn’t notice anything, though Alexandra was looking at him strangely. He knew it wasn’t enough of an apology, but it was a way of trying to be friendly.

  “Oh! Yes!” Arabella agreed. “It’s a lovely garden! And the flowers! In summer, we must go there. You would love the flowers, Alexandra! All colors and sorts. So many different ones.”

  Matthew nodded. He was staring at Alexandra again, marveling at her pale skin, at the way it looked so soft, like petals, that he just ached to kiss her…

  “Brother? I asked you if Albert will be there?”

  “Oh! Um…yes, probably. And the Baron will be there, too – our nearest neighbor,” he added with an explanation for Alexandra.

  “Oh!” Arabella said. She looked excited. Matthew grinned to himself. One of the few people about Arabella’s age was the Baron’s son. They had always been friendly. He was pleased she would have someone who she would likely feel more comfortable with than himself.

  Though she always felt comfortable with Alexandra, he noted.

  He was back to staring at her.

  She was so beautiful, with those big dark eyes, her lips red and full, so soft, like two crimson pillows.

  Arabella was talking again, and Matthew found himself listening less – he was too focused on Alexandra. When she reached up to tuck a strand of hair into the upswept bun, she wore it in, he wished he could take her fingers in his.

  She looked up and smiled.

  Matthew cleared his throat, cheeks burning.

  “Oh! Not long now…” Arabella craned her neck towards the windows, staring up the hill.

  Matthew smiled.

  “We’ll be there in ten minutes,” he told Alexandra. She nodded. She was looking at him, and he reached to adjust his cravat, feeling awkward. Was his hair in place? Was the black suit truly the best fit for him? Had he remembered to ask his manservant to brush his coat to get the fluff off the shoulder…?

  He leaned back, trying to relax. He was being ridiculous! He had never felt so uncomfortable and shy.

  I’m six-and-twenty years old! I shouldn’t be flushing like a young lad when a lovely woman looks at me.

  He looked down at his toes. His boots, at least, were clean. His neck felt hot in his cravat.

  “Hilltop Grange, my Lord.”

  “Capital! Here already,” he said. His voice sounded strained and he cleared it self-consciously. He might as well not have bothered – Arabella was already vaulting out of the coach, and Alexandra moved to follow her, glancing briefly in his direction.

  “Let me hand you down, Miss,” he said.

  He took her hand and she looked up at him and he felt his heart melt as he looked into her eyes. It was the briefest instant, but he felt a shiver run down his spine, delight mixed with wonder mixed with an indescribable longing.

  “Ahem,” he said. “Here we are.” He looked away, aware that Arabella was gazing at him oddly, and he did not know what to say.

  “Come on, Brother!” Arabella called as she led the way up the hill. “It’s almost four o’ clock! We don’t want to be late.”

  “No,” he agreed, walking at a slow pace behind. “We don’t.”

  Alexandra fell into step beside him. He found himself utterly unsure what to say. He could smell the sweet jasmine scent in her hair, see the softness of her beautiful skin in the pale sunshine, and he was overwhelmingly-aware – achingly aware, of her. He knew that he had to speak, and he cleared his throat.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. She looked up at him, sweet gaze serious.

  “No need, your Grace,” she said. “As long as you took heed.”

  “I did,” he said. “May I escort you into the house?”

  “That’s very kind,” he said.

  He crooked his arm, and she placed her hand in it, and they walked up the steps together. It was only when he was standing beside Arabella that he realized what he’d done – that he was escorting the chaperone into the tea-room as if she were really one of them.

  Chapter 6

  The noise in the drawing-room was surprisingly loud, considering that there were, Alexandra guessed, maybe only twenty people there. She stood in the corner; a cup of tea neatly held in one hand. She felt comfortable.

  I really didn’t expect that.

  She hadn’t expected the Duke to walk her in on his arm, either. She blushed, thinking of that. It was entirely unprecedented and a terrible idea.

  All the same, she felt happier than she had for weeks.

  This was her element – this place where people gathered to talk and discuss ideas. If only she could take part.

  She looked around. The room was elegant and surprisingly large, holding twenty people comfortably as they stood around the tea-table or gathered in small groups by the fireplace, or found the terrace to enjoy the late-afternoon sunshine. She could hear the murmur and melody of conversation, elegant and considered, and she felt her heart expand.

  It was a bright, airy room, lit with many windows, and she felt comfortable. It was fancy, but it felt right.

  “Excuse me,” a footman said, bowing deeply as he passed her, a tray of buns in one hand. “Beg pardon, my Lady.”

&n
bsp; Alexandra stiffened.

  He thinks I’m one of the guests! The dress was a small misjudgment.

  Her clothes were exactly the same as the other guests…even more modern than some!

  “Scandalous,” she heard someone say. They were looking at her. “How could she come dressed like that? She’s a servant!”

  Alexandra felt her cheeks flush. She looked through the window, her face hot and her body slumped with shame.

  She glanced at Arabella, who was standing by the piano, giggling and laughing. It was to take care of her that she was here, she reminded herself firmly and went to join her. The people Arabella stood there with looked about her own age – a young girl a little taller than her, with auburn curls, and a boy much taller, with blonde hair and a sweet face. Alexandra listened to their conversation from her vantage point by the window.

  “Oh, that’s a lovely idea,” Arabella gushed, looking up at the youth.

  Alexandra smiled to herself, her humor restored somewhat by the joy Arabella expressed. That must be the baron’s son, she guessed. Clearly, they were good friends. She saw Arabella looking at her and looked away, nervous she was going to be called over. She felt terribly uncomfortable, especially considering that the young girl Arabella talked to was accompanied by a severe older woman dressed in black.

  She looks like she ought to. I have made a bad decision.

  Alexandra felt her cheeks flush and walked towards the door that went out to the terrace. She felt the heat in the room oppressive, and she wanted to get out, convinced that people were staring at her.

  She couldn’t leave the room, as her job was to look after Arabella, but she also couldn’t bear being there, with the hostess looking at her as if she should be ashamed of herself, and the guests and servants confused as to where she belonged.

  And I still don’t know if anyone saw me.

  She leaned back on the wall, feeling ill. This whole idea had been a bad one…She was risking someone recognizing her, and besides, she had come in the wrong clothes! She shouldn’t be here. The Duke was here! He didn’t need her to chaperone his sister when he was chaperoning her already. She should have said no and let Arabella go on her own with her brother.

  Feeling sicker, she turned to take some fresh air. She wouldn’t go out, she’d just stand by the window, and…

  “Miss! There you are. You are feeling out-of-sorts, I think?”

  Alexandra turned to find herself looking straight into the eyes of the Duke of Blakeley. She took a step back.

  “It’s very kind of you to take an interest in my wellbeing,” she said in a loud whisper. Kind, and completely flouting of convention. Her cheeks burned, thinking it. She took a second step back, leaning against the wall.

  “Miss, would you care to step outside?” he asked. “It is hot in here, and you look as if you would do better for fresh air.”

  She raised a brow.

  “Very thoughtful,” she said. She couldn’t keep the irony from her voice. “Though I am not sure how awful I look, to make you think that.”

  He chuckled. “I apologize. My sister would like to go out too, I think. We shall bring her with us.”

  Alexandra went red. He had included her with him without thinking about it. She was the servant! The way he spoke to her as if she were an equal was becoming more difficult to face each day.

  “I will go and find out if she would wish to come with you, my Lord,” she said, curtseying. Her back straight, feeling his gaze on her, she turned and walked over to where Lady Arabella stood.

  “Alexandra! What is it?” Arabella asked, turning to face her as soon as she had drawn close. Alexandra tried to hide her consternation. Arabella had probably started the informality, but she couldn’t very well rebuke her for it! Not when it was so kindly meant.

  “Your brother wished to speak with you,” she said.

  “Oh.” Arabella looked up, frowning. “What did he wish to say to me? It’s all right, Frank,” she said, as the youth reached out a hand protectively. “I don’t think he is angry with me. Is he, Alexandra?”

  “No,” Alexandra said hastily. “Of course not.”

  Arabella grinned and looked over her shoulder at the young man, as they left. Alexandra felt people’s eyes on her as she walked across with Arabella and she flushed, aware that the ladies were probably whispering behind their gloved hands.

  She’s the chaperone, she imagined them saying. What is she doing, dressed in silks and fineries?

  She stood back to let Arabella go past and they went out onto the terrace.

  Outside, she let out a breath. It was cooler there, the day settling into a lovely autumn afternoon. She could smell grass and flowers, and the sky was the rich azure of autumn.

  “Arabella! Yes, I thought you would like to come out for a moment. Alexandra too, I think. She seemed as if she needed some fresh air.”

  “Oh! Alexandra. You aren’t unwell?”

  “No, I’m fine,” Alexandra said, gritting her teeth as a head turned to stare at them. “I’m quite well.”

  She saw Arabella give her a wounded look, and she regretted the harshness of her tone. Arabella was a sensitive person and was well-attuned to Alexandra’s moods by now. She had clearly noticed something wasn’t right.

  “That’s the rose arbor, over there,” the Duke said, drawing her attention. He pointed over at some hedges, green against the magnificent blue of the sky. “It’s usually my favorite place on the grounds, but in autumn it’s perhaps not the best?”

  Alexandra frowned. “Depends what you like. Many blooms, or a few – all the more precious because they are so rare.”

  The Duke looked at her and she felt his gaze settle on hers. Her heart started to thump, slow regular beats. He looked away at the roses.

  “Very true. But are there not some types of beauty that outshine others, regardless of how much other beauty is there?”

  She flushed. “Mayhap. But is not beauty in the eye of the onlooker?”

  He grinned. He didn’t say anything but when he held her gaze, she was aware of the brightness of his eyes, and the way he smiled, one lip lifted in a skewed grin that was easily the handsomest thing she’d ever seen.

  She felt heat rush to her cheeks, and she looked over at the gardens, trying for calm.

  “Brother?” Arabella said brightly. “I’m going to go in, now. Frank and Henriette were going to show me the pianoforte, and I do want to go in and join them?”

  The Duke looked up at her, and then back to Alexandra.

  “Yes, Arabella,” he said. “We’ll come with you at once.”

  Alexandra went pink as he walked back with her, standing back for her in the door, as if she were the equal of every guest.

  She saw people staring, but, as of yet, nobody had spoken against her. They were too afraid, it seemed, of the Duke and what he might think of them.

  He was, after all, an extremely influential man in society, she reminded himself. Undoubtedly the only person in the region with the ear of the King, should he wish it. Or the regent – which was more useful at the moment, in any case.