by Syrie James
“How were you received, arriving at such an hour?”
“Lady Trevelyan was so kind and gracious! She invited me to join them for breakfast. It was simply heaven to see Helen again. But although I smiled at James several times, he never once looked my way.”
“Oh dear.” Alexandra reminded herself that matters of the heart were deeply felt, no matter what one’s age.
“Later, I went over to speak to him. But I could not think of anything to say, except to compliment him on his boots. He just made the most awful face and ran away without a word!” Julia’s mortification was obvious. “He hates me, Miss Watson!”
“I’m sure that’s not true. I’ve heard it on good authority that sometimes, when a young man likes a girl, it makes him tongue-tied. So even though he is speechless or appears to be ignoring you, it may be that he secretly admires you.”
Julia’s cheeks grew pink, and her spirits visibly rose. “Do you think so?”
“It is entirely possible. In any case, I wouldn’t worry. You’re a smart, capable, and beautiful young lady. And you’re still very young. When you come of age, you’ll have any number of beaux on your arm.”
“I hope so, Miss Watson.”
For the rest of the evening, however, Julia’s eyes kept darting worriedly to the nursery door, as if she expected Longford to appear there at any moment to reprove her. Alexandra also thought he might come. Although she didn’t look forward to Julia being punished, Alexandra was curious to learn what had come of his encounter with Lord Saunders. But he stayed away.
They heard no more from him until the next morning, when Martha swept into the nursery with their breakfast.
“I’m sent with a message for you all from His Lordship,” Martha announced as she laid the table.
Alexandra smiled as she removed the silver dome from her plate to reveal another delicious-looking meal of eggs and ham. “What message?”
“I’m to say that dinner won’t be served in the nursery today like usual.”
“Why not?” Julia and Lillie asked at the same moment.
“Because,” Martha intoned, struggling to hide her own surprise over the matter, “you’re all requested to join His Lordship in the dinin’ room tonight, prompt-like at seven o’clock.”
Chapter Nineteen
“You must be mistaken, Martha,” Alexandra observed.
Her heart warmed to think that she might take credit for this unusual invitation. But if she’d learned one thing since coming to Polperran House, it was that servants and governesses had their place. And under no circumstances did they ever dine with their master. “You must have misunderstood. His Lordship only means for Julia and Lillie to dine with him, not me.”
“Beggin’ yer pardon, miss, but he said all three of you are to come. Mrs. Mitchell asked about it especially. She said, ‘Miss Watson as well?’ all wide-eyed like, and he was most particular. ‘Miss Watson as well,’ says he.”
Julia leapt up with delight the moment Martha left the room. “What shall we wear?”
“I’m going to wear my white dress with the yellow sash,” Lillie decided, unable to contain her smile.
“I suppose it will have to be my green frock, it is the best after all,” Julia mused. Turning to study Alexandra’s dress, she added, “But you cannot wear that, Miss Watson.”
Alexandra shrugged. Since she’d come to Polperran House, she’d never been obliged to dress for dinner. Her mind drifted with a wistful pang to the dozens of spectacular Worth gowns she’d worn during the Season. She may have hated the way she’d been on display during those weeks, but she had to admit, she’d felt beautiful. In her current mode of dress, she felt dowdy. She’d feel dowdier still at a dinner table with Lord Longford.
“I have little choice, Julia. It’s this dress or the black one. Take your pick.”
“I have a better idea.” Julia smiled. “Let us look in the attic.”
At Julia’s insistence, they applied to Mrs. Mitchell. Although the housekeeper’s nose seemed out of joint, and she muttered about what she called “an unprecedented state of affairs,” she agreed to let them forage in the attic and borrow whatever they liked.
Alexandra and the girls spent over an hour in the attic, looking through all the gowns on the racks. But they were old-fashioned, most had been made for women of a different size and shape than Alexandra, and many were moth-eaten. Eventually they had to give up the enterprise.
“It is too bad,” Julia said with a sigh as they returned to the nursery.
Later that afternoon, however, while Alexandra was in the midst of a geography lesson in the schoolroom, John came in with a large box and said, “This just come fer ye, Miss Watson. Where shall I put it?”
“For me?” Alexandra couldn’t imagine what it could be. “Set it on the table, John, and thank you.”
“His Lordship sent this as well.” John handed Alexandra a small envelope inscribed with her name, then left.
Perplexed, Alexandra removed the note from the envelope. It simply read:
Miss Watson,
For tonight.
With my best wishes,
Longford
Julia studied the label on the box and squealed, “Oh! It is from our dressmaker in London!”
“Open it!” Lillie cried.
Alexandra’s heart began to dance as she opened the box and pushed aside the tissue paper. Within lay a new evening gown. As she withdrew it, she couldn’t help but gasp. It was a confection of royal blue silk. Elaborate pin tucks decorated the skirts, the waist was cinched in by a brocade bodice, and tiny embroidered flowers in the same vivid shade of blue embellished the low, scooped neckline.
“Oh! How lovely!” Julia exclaimed.
Alexandra was flabbergasted. Longford must have ordered the gown some time ago. She could hardly believe that he’d bought an evening gown for her, a governess. He couldn’t afford such extravagance. Still, she was thrilled beyond words.
None of them could concentrate on geography after that. They all went off to their rooms to dress. Since the new gown had been made by the seamstress who already had Alexandra’s measurements, it fit perfectly. After Julia came in to help to fasten all the hooks in back, Alexandra couldn’t help but do a twirl and then survey her reflection in her small looking glass. It was such a treat to wear something beautiful again. She liked it better than many of her gowns by Worth, most of which had been too ostentatious for her taste.
Over the past weeks, Alexandra had done the best she could with her hair, through time and practice eventually achieving a style she considered becoming. Still, even her best efforts weren’t suitable for an evening gown like this one.
“What do you suggest?” The girls still wore their hair down and long, and there was no lady’s maid at Polperran House.
“I have been studying the magazines and practicing on my hair since I was a girl,” Julia announced, “and I know just what to do.”
Bringing Alexandra into her own bedroom and sitting her down at the dressing table, Julia proceeded to curl and pin up Alexandra’s tresses into a style almost as elegant as those the French hairdressers had achieved during the London Season.
“You’re a wizard,” Alexandra enthused when the makeover was complete. For the first time in weeks, Alexandra felt she looked like her old self. “Thank you, Julia.” She clasped the girl’s hand with affection.
Julia beamed, squeezing her hand in return. “No one would ever guess you to be a governess now, Miss Watson. You look like a queen.”
Before going downstairs, Alexandra made sure the girls’ sashes were adjusted just so, and that their hair had been brushed to its brightest sheen.
Now that the appointed hour was almost upon them, she was worried on Julia’s behalf. Longford had yet to confront his sister about her misbehavior the day before. Alexandra knew the subject must come up this evening, and hoped he wouldn’t be too hard on her.
She also felt a little awkward, recalling her conversation with
Longford the evening before about Lord Saunders. She still believed that what she’d said was right, even if he hadn’t wanted to hear it. But she got a sick feeling in her stomach every time she thought about the cause of his past heartbreak, the words title-grubbing American heiress still ringing in her ears.
How would he react, were he to discover that the stunning dress he’d just bought wasn’t for a poor governess, but for one of the very heiresses he despised?
She would just have to make sure he didn’t find out.
Thomas leaned close to the mirror and finished adjusting his white bow tie. The last time he’d actually dressed for dinner was at Christmas. What a dismal evening that had turned out to be. Tonight, he hoped, would be different.
“Which cuff links would you like, my lord?” Hutchens, who for years had been downgraded to play both valet and butler, offered him a choice of two sets in velvet-lined boxes.
“The gold ones, thank you.” Thomas scooped up the links. As Hutchens returned the others to the dresser drawer, Thomas noted a frown on the servant’s face. “What is it, Hutchens? Do you prefer the silver ones?”
“No, my lord. The gold ones are an excellent choice.”
“Yet you seem displeased about something.” Thomas inserted the gold links into the cuffs of his white dress shirt. “I thought you would be delighted to see me dress tonight, and to dine with my sisters.”
“Indeed I am, my lord.”
“Why do I not believe you? Is it because I invited Miss Watson?”
“You may invite whomever you like to dine with you, Your Lordship.” Despite Hutchens’s stoic words, there was an unmistakable hint of disapproval in his expression and tone.
“Yes I may. Have you forgotten what last Christmas was like? Or any one of Julia’s and Lillie’s birthdays? Every time I have ever sat down to a meal with my sisters, it has been the most damnable, awkward affair.”
“Those occasions, regrettably, were not as pleasant as they could have been,” Hutchens agreed, removing Thomas’s black tailcoat from the hanger and holding it up to him.
“Not as pleasant?” Thomas shook his head in disbelief as he thrust his arms into the sleeves of the tailcoat and then buttoned it up. “Hutchens, they were horrific. The hour ticked by in miserable silence. It is why I have left them up in the nursery as a rule. Tonight, however, I have something in particular to say to Julia. I imagine things might get a bit prickly. She and Lillie seem to like the new governess a great deal. For that reason, I invited Miss Watson. I pray that her inclusion might help things along.”
The memory of Miss Watson suddenly filled his mind. He felt no lingering bitterness over the manner in which she’d spoken to him about Saunders. In the end, she’d been right, and he admired her for speaking up. He enjoyed how animated she was, such a contrast to the prim English girls he’d known, who kept their opinions and emotions in reserve. He couldn’t forget the way she had looked that morning, running up to him at the stables with roses in her cheeks. Or at the Grecian temple, her eyes the color of the bluebells that surrounded them.
That day had been a kind of exquisite torture for him. How he’d longed to be alone with her, to once again feel her body, to taste those honey lips. But that wasn’t all he’d longed for—still longed for. He wanted her in his bed. He wanted to feel the passion he knew would erupt if they ever gave in to the feelings that simmered between them. Something which, damn it all, he knew could never happen.
Thinking about the gown he had ordered for her the day before he’d left town made him smile. Ever since he had painted Miss Watson in Mrs. Norton’s white satin dress, he’d dreamt of seeing her in something similar. This new dress, he thought with satisfaction, was probably the most elegant thing she had worn in years, if ever.
He might not be able to touch her again, but he could look at her. And look at her he would.
“I am doing this for the girls,” he told Hutchens emphatically. “To make them more comfortable. I know it breaks with all precedent and every rule of society to invite a governess to dinner. But since no one else will ever know, what difference does it make?”
Since her arrival at Polperran House, Alexandra had only glimpsed the dining room once in passing. As they entered, she paused a moment to take it in.
A magnificent green-and-white Wedgwood ceiling overlooked the large and airy room, its effect somewhat marred by a long crack and a water stain that bloomed from one corner. A fire burned in an ornately carved fireplace, and light danced from candles in the crystal chandelier, casting intricate shapes on walls papered in faded damask with a pattern of green leaves. An ancient hutch filled with china and glassware occupied one wall, a long sideboard the other. The immense table, elegantly set at one end with fine china, crystal, and silver for four, was surrounded by eighteen elegantly carved chairs upholstered in a fraying green-and-gold-striped fabric.
Despite the telltale signs of age and decay, it was a lovely and gracious room. Similar, Alexandra reflected, to the style of the dining room in their house in Poughkeepsie. Not ridiculously overdone like the palatial chamber her mother had built in their mansion in New York City, with its table to seat three dozen, its frescoed ceiling gilded in genuine gold leaf, and the wall-to-wall Numidian marble paneling.
The only other occupant of the room was John, acting footman, who stood at attention, decked out in livery. He gaped at Alexandra as if in wonder when she entered, then clamped his mouth shut. Julia and Lillie moved to stand behind chairs opposite the head of the table, presumably their assigned seats. Alexandra moved to the chair beside Lillie. Hutchens now entered and took up his position beside the footman, darting the merest glance at Alexandra but displaying no reaction at all. Moments later, Lord Longford strode in.
Alexandra caught her breath.
He was dressed in white tie and tails. Although it was routine evening attire, she’d never seen Longford so elegantly dressed. With his neatly combed short blond hair, his gleaming brown eyes, and his trim mustache in an otherwise clean-shaven face, he looked unbelievably handsome.
Her heart seemed to skip several beats. She suddenly wished that they were alone together, not flanked by servants and two impressionable young ladies. She wished she could cross to his side and touch him, had to force herself to remain rooted to the spot by her chair.
He moved briskly to the head of the table. His gaze immediately found Alexandra’s and he paused a long moment, taking her in, his expression so filled with undisguised approval, she felt a frisson of pleasure ripple through her.
He cleared his throat, turning his glance on his sisters. “You are looking well this evening, girls.” They beamed in answer as he nodded toward Alexandra, adding in a slightly gruffer tone, “As are you, Miss Watson.”
“Thank you.” You are looking well yourself, she wanted to add. “Thank you for the gown, my lord. It was most unexpected and very thoughtful.”
“It was my pleasure.”
Hutchens pulled out Longford’s chair. His Lordship sat. Then Hutchens and John helped each of the female members of the party to sit, with Alexandra the last to be accommodated. It felt divine to be in a proper dining room again, to be waited upon. Alexandra hadn’t realized how much she’d missed it.
As she took her seat, Alexandra darted another glance at Longford, and held back a smile. The idea that he’d invited them all to dine, and had gone to the effort of dressing for the occasion, filled her with admiration. Even more than she’d felt the day he took them sketching, an event which had happened by accident and mild coercion. He’d arranged this evening on his own. She had never liked him so well as at that moment.
Longford unfolded his napkin on his lap. The girls and Alexandra followed suit. She was pleased to see the young ladies displaying their best table manners. Sitting with them in this formal setting, Alexandra couldn’t help but recall the many thousands of times she’d dined in similar fashion with her own family, her father at the head of the table, her mother seated imperious
ly at the foot. The mood had been very different, however. Her mother had constantly criticized everyone and everything, including the food and the staff. Her father had often shared the news of the day and asked challenging questions, while she and her sisters had exchanged an almost constant barrage of lively chatter.
An awareness came over her of how special those intimate mealtimes had been, how precious was the essence of family, even an imperfect family. How dearly she missed them all.
“You may pour the wine, Hutchens.” Longford’s voice broke into her thoughts.
Alexandra had to swallow hard over a suddenly constricted throat. Taking in the faces around her, she reminded herself that she was part of a new family now, even if she was an outsider and her inclusion was temporary. And she was happy to be here.
As the butler filled Longford’s glass from a bottle of red, the earl glanced at Alexandra. “Miss Watson? Would you care for some wine?”
“Yes, thank you.” It was the first time she’d been offered the beverage since her arrival at Polperran House. She took a sip, appreciating its robust flavor. “Mmmm. A Chateau Lafite Rothschild, if I’m not mistaken?”
Longford’s eyebrows lifted, as if surprised she’d recognized it. “Indeed. It is from our own cellar, which my father kept very well stocked.”
Alexandra felt her cheeks grow warm. From his expression, it was clear he thought it strange that a governess would be familiar with such an expensive wine. “I’ve only had the pleasure of tasting it once,” she said quickly, “some years ago. But I’ve never forgotten it.”
Longford responded with a comprehending nod.
John and Hutchens backed away to stand at attention by the wall. Some minutes ensued as the girls gazed expectantly at their brother. Longford tapped his fingers on the tabletop, looking uncomfortable, as if unsure how to begin.
Hoping to ease the tension, Alexandra said: “It was a wonderful surprise, my lord, to receive your generous invitation to dine this evening.”