A Dare to Defy Novel

by Syrie James

  “No! I knew nothing about you, I swear it. If you will only let me explain.”

  “Pray, do go on, Miss Atherton,” he retorted acidly. “What can you have hoped to gain with this charade?”

  “All I hoped to gain was my fare to New York.”

  “You expect me to believe that one of the richest heiresses in America requires ten pounds from me to board a sailing vessel?”

  “Yes!”

  “Forgive me if I find that to be utterly ludicrous.”

  “It’s the truth.” Alexandra took a deep breath and plunged on. “I came to London for the Season with my mother. She was forcing me to marry a man I couldn’t stand. I had to get away. The day we met, I was just trying to go home. I escaped from Brown’s Hotel, and from there, it’s exactly as I told you: my bag was stolen at Euston station, I had no ticket, no money. I was lost, then I ran into you and fell in the street.”

  “If it is true what you say, you must have made friends during the Season, had dozens of money-hungry men at your feet. Why did you not seek help from one of them?”

  “I made no true friends, and didn’t trust any of the people I did meet not to send me back to my mother.”

  “When you came to Mrs. Gill’s house, why did you not simply tell us who you were?”

  “For the same reason. I was a stranger to you, a burden. Why should you go out of your way to shelter me, a wealthy woman who had a suite of rooms at one of the best hotels in London? You have no idea what my mother is like. She’d have locked me in my room and kept me there until I gave in and married that horrible viscount. I couldn’t go back!”

  “And you did not trust me to do the right thing?”

  “It wasn’t a matter of trust, it was—”

  “I beg to differ. This was all about trust. From the very beginning, you did not bring me into your confidence because you did not trust me. You made up a name for yourself, you invented a story about being a governess—”

  “The only thing I lied about was my last name. My nickname is Lexie. As for the rest—it just happened. Mrs. Gill made assumptions about me and I went along with them. It seemed safest to let you think I was a governess. I didn’t expect to be in your company more than a day or two. I just wanted to go home. But I had nothing, not a penny.”

  “You could not ask your father? A man with all the money in the world?”

  “It would have taken days to hear back from him, and knowing my father, he would have said no, and betrayed my whereabouts to my mother.”

  “So instead, you betrayed me.” Fury burned in Longford’s eyes. “When we came to Cornwall, hundreds of miles away from your mother, why did you not tell me then?”

  “I wanted to. But I was so afraid you’d fire me. Then I saw how disgusted you were by people like me. Title grubbers, you called us. I know what I did was wrong—”

  “Wrong? I am afraid wrong does not begin to cover it, Miss Atherton.” His shook his head, eyeing her with loathing. “As of this moment, you are discharged from your duties. I want you gone from this house today.”

  “Today?” Alexandra’s voice broke. “But where will I go?”

  “I will have my carriage made ready at eleven o’clock to take you to the station for the afternoon train to London. Where you go and what you do after that is not my concern.”

  With that, Longford spun on his heel and strode rapidly away.

  Tears streamed down Alexandra’s face as she gazed out her bedroom window at the green lawns and gardens beyond. All this time, she’d been afraid to tell Longford the truth, yet she’d never imagined the result would be as calamitous as this.

  Yesterday, he’d been such a tender lover. Today, he’d looked at her with hatred and disgust. She knew she’d brought this on herself. She was ashamed, and absolutely devastated. There was so much more she’d wanted to tell him, how sorry she was, all the feelings she held in her heart, but she’d never gotten a chance to say the words.

  The fact that she’d never see Julia and Lillie again spurred a fresh burst of tears. What would they think when they came home from their holiday, only to find her gone? Alexandra had left a note for each of them, expressing her regret that she had to leave so unexpectedly. She worried that Longford might confiscate the notes, but she had to try.

  Wiping her cheeks, Alexandra checked her hat in the mirror, the one she’d borrowed from Mrs. Gill. She was leaving in the clothes she’d arrived in, keeping only the handbag Mrs. Mitchell had found for her in the attic. She didn’t feel comfortable keeping the blue day dress, the silk gown, or any of the other things Longford had paid for. In any case, she had no luggage in which to carry them.

  Alexandra made her way down the back stairs and said good-bye to the servants. Martha, with tears in her eyes, gave her a fond hug. “I’m so sad ye’re leaving us, Miss Watson. I hope yer family emergency is nought too serious.”

  The maid’s words surprised her. Apparently, Longford hadn’t revealed the truth about Alexandra, or why she was leaving. Was it meant as a kind gesture? Or simply to hide his own embarrassment?

  “I’m sad to leave, too, Martha. More than you know.”

  Mrs. Mitchell was waiting in the inner hall with a sealed envelope and an unhappy expression. “I’m very sorry to see you go, Miss Watson. Here are your wages.”

  “Thank you.”

  “If you give me your address, I’ll have your things sent to you.”

  “There’s no need. I hope you can find some use for the clothes. Perhaps give them to the poor.”

  Mrs. Mitchell nodded. “There’s one thing more. His Lordship asked me to give you this.” She gestured to a parcel leaning against the wall.

  Alexandra’s brow furrowed. The rectangular-shaped parcel, wrapped in brown paper and tied with string, was about two feet by three feet in size. “What is it?”

  “I believe it’s one of his paintings.”

  Alexandra wondered why Longford would give her a painting. But she was too distressed to think about it. “Good-bye, Mrs. Mitchell. It has been a pleasure working beside you.”

  “And you, Miss Watson.”

  Woodenly, Alexandra picked up the wrapped parcel. Hutchens was waiting at the front door. “Have a safe journey, Miss Watson.” Although he maintained his usual outer reserve, she detected genuine regret in his eyes at her departure.

  “Thank you, Hutchens. Be well.” Alexandra exited the house and moved to the waiting carriage.

  Pausing at the carriage step, she glanced back at the house. To think that she’d never see Longford again, to leave in this way . . . her heart was so heavy with sorrow she thought it might burst. A movement from one of the gallery windows caught her eye. She noticed Longford briefly glance out, then turn away.

  Her heart twisted. This was wrong, wrong, wrong. She couldn’t leave, couldn’t let it end like this. She loved him. Somehow, she had to let him know how she felt, make him understand.

  Handing the parcel to John, Alexandra dashed back to the house, slipping in past an astonished Hutchens just as he was closing the front door. She darted up the main stairs, down the long corridor, past the library, and around the corner to the gallery, where she raced in to find Longford at the far end, pacing.

  “Lord Longford.”

  He turned to face her, scowling. “Please go, Miss Atherton.”

  She paused a dozen feet away, tears blurring her vision as she caught her breath. “I can’t. Not like this. Not until I’ve told you how sorry I am.”

  “You’re sorry.”

  “Yes! I’m so very, very sorry. I understand why you’re angry. I should have had the courage to tell you the truth a long time ago. Especially when things between us became so . . . so . . .” She gulped, felt her cheeks growing hot as she moved closer. “But it can’t be over! If you could just try to understand and forgive this one thing—”

  “This one thing taints everything. Do you not see that?” He stepped back, maintaining the distance between them. “You deliberately deceiv
ed me. I could never trust you again.”

  “You can. What happened between us was real.”

  “Real?” he scoffed. “How can I ever know what is real where you are concerned?”

  “My feelings for you are real. I love you. I have loved you for a long time.”

  “You dare to speak of love?”

  “I do. I love you. Yesterday, I felt that you might feel the same way about me. If that’s true, I’m still the same person you were with on the bank of that pool.”

  “I do not even know who that woman was.”

  “It’s still me! The only thing that’s different is my last name. Everything else I’ve told you is true. My father has a great deal of money, yes. And I’m due to receive a portion of it when I marry. But why can’t that be a good thing? If we marry, I can help bring your estates back to life for you! For us.”

  “There is no us, Miss Atherton.” Longford took two steps back, holding up his hands as if to ward her away. “Do you actually imagine I could ever conceive of marrying you after this? I want nothing to do with your money. And I want no more to do with you. Go now, Miss Atherton. Or you’ll miss your train.”

  The tiny local train station at Bolton was deserted. Alexandra sat on the hard wooden bench, awaiting the next locomotive, her heart broken in two.

  The envelope with her wages contained eleven pounds. It was far more than she’d legitimately earned for five weeks of service, a very generous sum. Ten pounds was exactly the amount required for a second-class steamship ticket to New York, and the rest would pay for train fare, facts of which she suspected Longford was well aware.

  She wiped the tears that seemed impossible to stem, struggling to focus on her journey. Instead of going to London, should she change trains en route and travel straight to Liverpool? From a discarded newspaper, she learned that the next steamship for New York didn’t leave for another three days.

  Three days. She needed every penny she now possessed to cover travel expenses. Which left virtually nothing to pay for three nights’ lodging. She couldn’t go to Liverpool, friendless and alone. She’d put that off until the day the ship sailed, and go to London after all. But where would she stay?

  Briefly, she considered going to Brown’s Hotel. The last newspaper article she’d seen about herself had mentioned that her mother still resided there, and that Madeleine had joined her. How Alexandra longed to be in her sister’s company! They’d been apart for so many months.

  Returning to her mother’s bosom, so to speak, would give Alexandra the sanctuary she so desperately needed. She’d have to beg her mother’s forgiveness, of course. Her mother would be absolutely furious at Alexandra’s desertion. But perhaps she’d also be relieved to see her safe and still eminently marriageable.

  Another thought came on the heels of that one: of herself at the pond with Longford. A hot blush rose to Alexandra’s face. Although she’d behaved wantonly that day, thanks to Longford’s restraint, she was still a virgin. She wouldn’t put it past her mother to have a doctor check that status.

  This sobering notion gave Alexandra pause. She knew her mother’s aim would still be the same: to marry off each of her daughters to a title. There was the slight possibility that, if Madeleine found a husband, their mother might allow Alexandra to remain unattached. But it seemed a vain hope. It was far more likely that she’d lock Alexandra up again and try to force her into the same kind of horrific marriage as before, if not to Viscount Shrewsbury, then someone just like him. Or worse.

  Alexandra shook her head. No. She couldn’t take that chance, couldn’t even think of revealing herself to her mother, unless she could control the time and place.

  Another idea presented itself: she could go to Mrs. Gill’s. The landlady had been so kind in the past. She might be willing to take Alexandra in for a few days. If not, Alexandra would just have to pay for a place and figure out the rest tomorrow.

  Blowing out a long breath, Alexandra dried her eyes and glanced around the empty train station, her attention settling on the wrapped parcel leaning against the bench beside her. Curiosity overtook her. Carefully, she untied and unwrapped it to reveal what lay beneath.

  It was Longford’s painting of the Italian landscape, the one she’d so dearly admired. The one in which he’d added a figure that resembled her. Like his other works, it was signed T. Carlyle.

  She stared at the painting in confusion. It was one of his best works, a veritable masterpiece. Why had he given it to her? She wondered if it was a parting gift, because he knew how much she loved it.

  Then another idea occurred to her, an idea so painful it nearly closed her throat with aching sadness: that it was meant as a slap in the face. That he felt he’d ruined the painting by adding her to it, and wanted it gone, just as he never wanted to see her again.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “That’s quite a story, Miss Atherton.” Mrs. Gill regarded Alexandra over her teacup with wonder. “I can’t get over it. Here I thought you were as poor as a church mouse, but all this time, you had a fortune fit for a queen.”

  “I’m so sorry to have deceived you, Mrs. Gill,” Alexandra replied. “But at the time, I felt I had no choice.”

  She’d arrived at Mrs. Gill’s lodging house at half past ten. The landlady had quickly recovered from her surprise and warmly invited in her unexpected guest. They’d been chatting for over an hour. Alexandra, disinclined to break Longford’s cover in case he should ever return to this house, continued to refer to him as Mr. Carlyle, and she hadn’t said a word about their thwarted romantic relationship.

  Alexandra had told Mrs. Gill all about herself: why she came to England, her mother’s insistence that she marry the viscount, and her escape from the hotel weeks ago. To explain her sudden appearance now, Alexandra had simply stated that she wanted to go home, but found herself short of funds. “Unfortunately, I cannot go back to my mother, as I’m sure you understand.”

  “Oh no, dearie, you couldn’t do that. Forgive me for saying so, but your mother sounds like a selfish, dreadful woman.”

  “At the moment, I fear her judgment is clouded. I admit, though, I feel a little guilty that I’ve been out of touch for so long. I am her daughter. She must be worried about me.”

  “Be that as it may, I’m glad you came to me. I still say, it’s a shame you have to go back to America. But I understand you being homesick. It was very good of Mr. Carlyle to give you steamship fare.”

  “And it’s good of you to let me stay here. I’ll send you the sum to cover my lodgings when I get home.”

  “Oh, don’t you worry about that, dearie.” Mrs. Gill waved her hand. “I only wish there were some other way I could help.” Nodding toward the rewrapped parcel Alexandra had brought with her, she added: “Now are you ever going to tell me what that is?”

  When Alexandra awoke the next morning and found herself in her old room upstairs, her thoughts drifted to Longford, and tears welled in her eyes.

  She could live a hundred years and never meet another man like him, a man she so completely adored, and with whom she felt so perfectly matched. If only she could go back in time, she’d do things differently. But it was too late now.

  Although she knew it was over between them, she couldn’t simply turn off the workings of her heart. She loved him. She would always love him. And Lillie and Julia! It pained her to know that she was cut off from them forever, a pain all the more acute from the knowledge that she had no one to blame but herself.

  Alexandra rolled over in bed, pondering her uncertain future. If she couldn’t marry Longford, she decided, she would never marry at all. But somehow, she had to find a way to make some good out of this horrible situation. For a long while, she lay there, thinking, until an idea began to take shape in her brain. Yes, she thought, as the details of the plan became increasingly clear to her. Yes. She knew exactly what she wanted to do. What she must do.

  That morning, at a travel agency, she purchased a ticket for the next steamship to
New York, departing from Liverpool in two days. The rest of the day was taken up by her newfound errand. As she walked back to Mrs. Gill’s house after completing her task, navigating the smoky, noisy, dusty London streets—this time with a map to guide her—Alexandra smiled to herself in satisfaction. She knew she had done the right thing, and prayed for the best.

  On her second and last day in town, Alexandra became determined to discover what she could about her mother’s and sister’s circumstances, and to affect a visit if it were safe. She enlisted Mrs. Gill’s aid, and the two women went to Brown’s Hotel. While Alexandra waited outside, lest she be recognized by the hotel staff, Mrs. Gill made enquiries about Mrs. Atherton and her daughter.

  “Well!” Mrs. Gill said in a huff when she came out some time later. “The man at the desk wouldn’t tell me a single thing, but I found a chambermaid who was helpful. There is indeed a Mrs. Josephine Atherton staying here with her daughter Madeleine, in just the rooms you mentioned. And you’ll never guess where they are at this very moment! Why, they’re just a few blocks away, having tea at the Mayfair Café.”

  Alexandra’s heart skittered. Her sister was so close! “Oh, Mrs. Gill. What should I do?”

  “You’re longing to see your sister, aren’t you? To say good-bye?”

  “Yes. But at the same time, I’m afraid. My mother will be so angry with me, there’s no telling what she might do.”

  “Unless your mother is an officer of the law, I don’t see what she can do to you in a public place like the Mayfair Café.”

  “You’re right, Mrs. Gill. Thank you.” Screwing up her courage, Alexandra said: “Lead the way, please.”

  A ten minutes’ walk brought them to the designated spot, a redbrick building with white awnings and a magnificent set of etched-glass doors. Alexandra’s heart pounded as she paused outside, gathering her courage to go in.