by Alice Kirks
Alexandra looked at the Duke. She felt her heart sink. She had almost hoped he’d decided to overlook the incident. But clearly, he hadn’t. And he was waiting for her.
“Um…your Grace, I cannot say when I can speak with you. Lady Arabella wants me to discuss the concert with her.”
“Oh, Alexandra! Of course, you must speak to my brother. I shall wait for you next door until you’re there.”
“Thank you, my Lady,” Alexandra said, curtseying.
She felt as if she might collapse again. Her head still hurt, despite having eaten breakfast, and she still felt exhausted.
“Come and join us,” Arabella said. “We took a late luncheon, since I rose so late, following the concert.”
Alexandra nodded. She felt hollow inside. She was also, she discovered, still hungry. She ate the plate of soup the butler provided with relish.
She looked up to see the Duke watching her. His gaze was not unkind, but she blushed and looked swiftly away.
After lunch, she followed him to his study. He waited for her to sit down, then shut the door. He went to sit at his desk. She watched him, heart thumping. He looked as if his emotions had been replaced with glass.
“Miss Alexandra,” he said, looking at her across the clean space of the desk. “What caused you to run away?”
“Um…” Alexandra looked away, trying to think of what to say. In the end, she decided to be honest. “Fear.”
“You were afraid?” he sounded surprised, which touched a spark of anger, kindling it within her. “What made you afraid?”
“How could I not be afraid?” she asked, feeling her temper finally fray. “Here, in London, with people hounding me, threatening me, and you, with your cold glances and your distancing of me from everybody in the household? What could I not fear, when so many things were against me?”
She let out a breath. Her cheeks were red, heart pounding. What had she done? She had told him, without trying to conceal anything from him, why she was afraid.
And now he would ask what she was hiding from, and then he would send her away.
Even if he came to know she was a lady, she realized, he would not risk keeping her here, where Arabella would be tainted with scandal.
He could not keep me here, she thought. And then, she would have two options – either on the street, or to her aunt in the North.
He said nothing. She looked up to find his gaze on her. Oddly, his brown eyes were strangely soft.
“Alexandra…you did not tell me there were people threatening you,” he said. “You should have told me. Are they dangerous?”
“Very,” she said.
She had not meant to tell any of this, but, now that she was being truthful, she realized she was more afraid the viscount and of her father than of any two people in London or anywhere.
The Duke looked at her. She thought there was a softening at his lips, as if he would grin. His eyes were not smiling, though. He contemplated her blankly.
“Alexandra. You mean to tell me you have enemies in London. And somehow it seemed right to go out alone, probably when it was dark, and try and run away from them?”
“Yes.”
He looked at the table. It was clear from his posture that he was thinking. She could not tell what, though. His face was hidden. When he looked up, his face was neutral, and his eyes soft.
“Arabella might have more sense than you,” he said, shaking his head. “But I doubt anyone has more courage. It was foolish. Utterly foolish.”
“Yes, your Grace.”
He smiled. It was a flash of grin, but it warmed her heart, making her realize how frozen she’d felt inside since the moment she thought he was annoyed with her.
“Now. I don’t know what to say. Of course, your confidences have troubled me. But I must first of all say that you are a remarkable young woman.”
“Your Grace…”
“No, let me say it.”
His dark eyes stared at her and she felt a shiver run up her spine that had nothing to do with fear. She gazed into his gaze and felt her heart thump steadily. She could not look away.
The silence drew out. Alexandra sought something to say. She could think of nothing, all her words trapped behind a barrier of silence. And mistrust.
Whatever he says, however he chooses to say it, I do not believe he will react well if I tell him the truth, she thought. She sat still, saying nothing.
“Alexandra, I know I have been acting strangely, just recently,” he said. “And I apologize. I have been…troubled by many things.”
“I know,” Alexandra interrupted swiftly. “I understand my conduct has been poor. I trust that you know why, now, and know that I cannot safely remain here.”
“Yes, I understand.”
Alexandra looked at the wall, facing the window. She could not look at him. He sounded cold.
“I understand I am unable to perform my duties as well as I should,” she said. “I know that you cannot forgive that.”
“I cannot risk anything happening to my sister,” he said.
She looked at him. His eyes were not angry, despite the coolness in his voice. She tried to think. He was not too angry to be reasonable. If she were lucky, she would be able to stay a while.
“I think that, were we to return to the countryside, I would be able to take up my duties as prescribed,” she said. “There, I have no enemies and am known by nobody. There, your sister would not be harmed by my presence.”
“And your reputability?”
Alexandra stared at him. “What do you think?” she said, shocked, now. “What manner of reputation do you ascribe to me? What reason do you think these men have for wishing me hurt?” Her voice was tight. She felt her cheeks flush and her heart thudded; her body heated with indignation.
“I don’t know,” he said.
He was still looking at her, and he seemed utterly calm. The anger was gone from him, and all that remained was tiredness.
Alexandra looked at him. She felt a weary compassion. “I know,” she said. “I am aware that you have faced many secrets. I understand you cannot trust me, and that your care for your sister’s reputation is what drives this lack of ability to trust. However, I can assure you that, outside London, your sister cannot be tainted by association.”
“I see,” he said. “And the secrets?”
“What of them?”
“Why can you not confide in me?”
Alexandra shut her eyes. He sounded hurt, as if he were sad that she kept secrets from him. She could think of nothing to say. She could have understood anger, or shouting, or dismissal. She absolutely could not bear to hear him betrayed.
“Please. Trust me,” she murmured. She knew it was foolish, the moment she said it. “I cannot tell anyone.”
When she opened her eyes, he was still watching her. He no longer looked sad; the sadness cloaked with a thin, brittle shield of coldness.
“If you say so,” he said.
Alexandra looked away. She couldn’t bear to hear that. She tried to think of something to say. She could almost have said the words, let her story come tumbling out. But she could not. She could not risk him knowing who she was, or knowing thatby being seen with his sister, she had indeed potentially-harmed her reputation.
“Please. Once we are out of London, I will resume my duties.”
“I know.”
They looked at each other, and the silent words were a weight inside her, a lump that choked her. She needed to say them. She wanted to tell him – but the consequences were too dangerous.
“I will go,” she said softly. She pushed the chair away. “Arabella wished to talk with me, and I will talk with her too.”
“As you wish,” he said.
They looked at each other. Alexandra felt her heart turn over. He looked at her with those eyes so expectant, as if he willed her to tell him. To trust him.
“Thank you, your Grace. I will go the drawing-room now,” she said. She made herself curtsey, and
act as if they were master and maidservant, talking to each other about duties in a welcome, ordinary way. Back straight, throat aching, she walked out of the room and into the hallway, turning left towards the warm, firelit drawing-room.
“Alexandra!” a delighted voice said from within as she stepped lightly inside. “There you are! I have wanted all day to speak to you!”
“I will be delighted,” Alexandra said. She could hear how strained she sounded, and she was not surprised when Arabella looked worried.
“Of course, if you are still feeling unwell, we shan’t talk long.”
“Thank you,” Alexandra said, feeling guilty. “I would like to go and rest after an hour or two.”
“Of course. I thought that, since you know so much about music, I would like to ask you about the interpretation of the overture from last night. I thought, in my opinion, that it was a little fast. The violinist was exceptionally good, though. Do you feel the timing should be faster? Or slow? What are your thoughts on the overture?”
Alexandra tried to think. At that moment, she could scarcely remember the overture. All that was in her mind was an enormous silence, in which she choked.
“Well, I think that faster sets the mood of the opera rather satisfyingly,” she said.
They sat and talked for an hour, and then she excused herself. Arabella let her go, concerned for her wellbeing.
“I’ll be fine,” Alexandra whispered. “No need for any medication.”
She tiptoed from the room. Upstairs, she shut the door and lay down on the bed. She was utterly exhausted and utterly confused and she knew that, whatever happened, it seemed her trust in herself was the only trust she could hold.
Chapter 36
It was warm in the drawing-room that evening. Matthew, sitting on the chair behind the desk upstairs, watched them. He looked away, feeling wearied.
“I can’t leave things as they are.”
He was not going to let Alexandra stay here, endanger herself and compromise Arabella too. No, he only had one option. He was going to have to go back to the country. He could either send Alexandra alone, or move himself and his sister back too.
“And I cannot do that. She is having so much fun on this Season.”
He was not going to take her away from what was proving to be a wonderfully sociable month. She should be able to stay as long as she wished, and if that meant he was staying, so be it.
“No, Alexandra must go back alone. She can stay on with the household, but not here.”
He was surprised at his own plans. He had hired a chaperone to take Arabella round London. He had intended to be free this Season, to be able to pursue his own socializing. He needed to make business deals, to meet with old friends, and, of course, the permanent concern, tucked away in the back of his mind, about the succession. He also needed to find someone.
If Alexandra were noble, she’d be my duchess.
He pushed the thought aside, annoyed with himself for thinking it. She was not noble, and he could not think of her like that. He had to stop being a fool.
All the same, he felt sad, thinking that he could no longer imagine the future that way.
He stood and went over to the window, staring out at the tranquil street, the light from the torches the only illumination, the night silent and the street cleared.
I cannot have what I want. I might as well do what I can and move on.
He looked down into the road, seeing someone hurrying along. He shivered and turned away. The night was cold.
“I should go to bed. It won’t help me to sit up here and think all night. I’ll be useless tomorrow morning.”
He went out into the hallway and up to his room, where he swiftly undressed and slid into bed. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep. He rolled over, drawing the covers to his chin. Images of Alexandra were everywhere: he recalled her flushed cheek, the way her eyes flashed when she looked at him. He couldn’t forget how he felt about her and how he had longed to apologize, to take her in his arms and kiss her.
“I’ll have to tell her tomorrow that she needs to return to the town.”
He rolled over, feeling a little better now that he’d come to a decision. He was surprised when he opened his eyes to find pale daylight filtering into the room and the papers on his table, waiting for him.
“Send Miss Alexandra to me on your first opportunity,” he murmured as he passed Mr. Leighton in the hallway. “I have a need to speak with her.”
“Very good, your Grace.” He bowed low.
Matthew went to the breakfast-room, noting that two of the places had already been cleared – his sister had been awake before him and so had Alexandra. That was no bad thing, he thought: he needed this time to clear his head and think about things.
He was just drinking a cup of tea when the butler came in. “Miss Alexandra is waiting in the hallway to speak with you.”
“I’ll come directly,” Matthew said, tipping back the last of his tea. He stood and went into the hallway, where Alexandra looked up at him, dark eyes wide, the color of her hair in contrast to a surprisingly elegant dark gown.
“Um, yes,” he said, clearing his throat. He directed her to an anteroom. “I wanted to speak with you about, well…the matters we discussed. I have contemplated the problems a great deal, and I conclude that it would be best if you return to the village tomorrow morning.”
“Blakeley?” she stared. “Your Grace…why? Will Arabella be returning too? You cannot send her…”
“I will remain here. I will escort Arabella to the balls personally, of course. And you will be tutoring her from now on, in the position of tutor-of-accomplishments. Dancing, writing, pianoforte…I understand you have many skills. My sister would be glad to learn from you.”
“I see,” Alexandra said. “But…but, your Grace, why are you not dismissing me outright?” she said softly.
He shrugged. “I cannot. I mean…I do not wish to. I don’t know. Don’t question me!” He found himself shouting. “What would you prefer? That I dismissed you? Is that what you’re trying to make me do?”
He looked down at her, seeing her wide eyes looking up at him, clearly frightened. He let out a breath. He had no idea what had come over him.
“I’m sorry,” he said. Suddenly, he sighed.
“What?”
“I don’t know what came over me. I’m being a fool, aren’t I? I should have let you go if that’s what you wanted. You’ve tried to leave.”
Alexandra stared at him. “But why? Your Grace, why would I try and leave?” She was clearly shocked. She stared at him, round-eyed. Her face was pale.
“Because you…well, you don’t approve of, well…” he stopped talking. He shook his head. “I don’t know what I’m saying. Just, do as I ask.”
Alexandra looked up at him. Matthew could see the confusion on her face, and he felt his heart ache with sorrow. He hadn’t meant to cause such unhappiness! All he had meant to do was to tell her what he planned. He hadn’t meant, either to betray how he felt about her, but he almost had.