Master of His Fate

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Master of His Fate Page 6

by Barbara Taylor Bradford


  Delia broke into her thoughts when she said, “You are certainly giving us a very sharp once-over, Alexis. And the answer is yes. We are clients of Madame Valance.”

  Alexis laughed. “I was actually admiring you both. And I have suddenly had a serious thought. We must be simply dressed when we are at Haven House, wearing plain clothes.”

  “Nothing like these gowns, nothing fancy. That’s most important,” Delia interjected. “They would be upset, I think.”

  Claudia was in agreement. “We have to show them respect and kindness, and we mustn’t appear to be superior or patronizing.”

  “Correct,” Alexis said. “Plain clothes, plain talk, too, and very good manners. We must also have a lot of patience. These women who are so much in need must never be made to feel inferior.”

  Eight

  A little later, as they took their leave of Delia, Alexis turned to Claudia. “I have my carriage waiting, and I’m certain you do, too. But if not, I would be happy to take you to your home.”

  “How nice of you, Alexis, and thank you. I’m going to visit a relative with my father. He said he would come for me, and I’m sure his carriage is already outside.”

  It was. As Alexis and Claudia left Delia’s house, she saw it at once. Her father was standing outside on this glorious sunny afternoon, leaning against the carriage door, nonchalantly smoking a cigarette. As soon as he saw them he dropped it, stubbed it out with his foot. Then he began to walk toward them, a smile on his face.

  After greeting his daughter in an affectionate tone, he said, “Won’t you introduce me to your friend?”

  “Of course, Papa.” She looked at Alexis. “I would like to present my father to you … Sebastian Trevalian. Papa, this is Alexis Malvern.”

  Sebastian bowed slightly, offering her his hand.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Trevalian. I am very pleased to meet you,” Alexis murmured, taking his hand.

  “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Malvern,” he responded, staring at her with great intensity. He was still holding her hand in his, struck by her vivid beauty … her luxuriant auburn hair, deep green eyes, and English-rose complexion. She was stunning. A beauty. No, a great beauty, and extremely elegant in her cream gown.

  Startled by her father’s attention to Alexis, even puzzled, Claudia cleared her throat several times.

  Glancing at his daughter, noting the surprised expression on her face, he immediately let go of Alexis’s hand and took a step back. “Wherever it is you are going, Miss Malvern, we will take you there.” Turning, he put a hand under her elbow and began to walk her to his carriage.

  “Thank you, Mr. Trevalian,” Alexis said. “I have my carriage here, but such a kind offer on your part.”

  Claudia said swiftly, “I’m so glad we met, Alexis, and I look forward to visiting Haven House on Tuesday.”

  Taking hold of her father’s arm, still amazed by his fascination with her new friend, she led him in the direction of their carriage. He shrugged her off gently, an amused look settling on his face.

  “I shall escort Miss Malvern, help her into her carriage,” Sebastian announced firmly, and did just that, with Claudia staring after him, now completely taken aback.

  After stepping up into her carriage and seating herself, Alexis rolled down the window and looked at him, her attention held by his wide-set gray eyes.

  “Thank you,” she murmured, unable to shift her gaze from his.

  Sebastian stared back at her for a long moment, before saying, “I do hope we shall meet again, Miss Malvern. Soon. I shall have Claudia give a small supper. You will come, I hope?”

  Alexis found herself saying, “I would enjoy that,” and then she wondered why she had accepted so quickly.

  He nodded politely, and as he turned away she noticed the small smile playing around his mouth.

  Her carriage moved forward, the horses snorting, the driver urging them on. Alexis leaned back against the leather seat, thinking about Sebastian Trevalian. His behavior had been a bit odd. No, not odd. Very male. She knew he had been surprised by her appearance. And he had been attracted to her. Very much so.

  With a little jolt, she understood that Claudia had been startled by her father’s behavior. And she wished she had not accepted his invitation with such alacrity. It might look too eager. And she didn’t have the slightest interest in him. None at all.

  And yet her thoughts stayed with Claudia’s father as the carriage rolled on toward Mayfair. He was undoubtedly the handsomest man she had ever set eyes on. It was his silvery-gray eyes, translucent and clear, that were so arresting and compelling.

  His coloring was very fair, his light brown hair filled with blond streaks. There was no doubt that he was an Englishman, although his face had strong lines. It was sharply chiseled, with a Roman nose, a masculine jawline, and generous mouth. He looked too young to be Claudia’s father. Her guess was that he was only forty.

  Oh bother, what does it matter? she thought, as the carriage finally pulled up at her front door, at the bottom of Chesterfield Hill on the corner of Charles Street. Why am I thinking about him? I’m not going to supper. I’ll never see him again.

  But she was wrong.

  * * *

  Alexis crossed the marble-floored entrance foyer and noticed that the library door was half open. She hurried forward and went into the room.

  Her father was sitting in a chair near the fireplace and immediately jumped up, putting the book he was holding on a nearby occasional table.

  “There you are, my dear. I hope you had a good afternoon and that all went well.” His smile was welcoming.

  Drawing to a stop next to him, she kissed his cheek, and went and sat on the edge of the chair opposite his. He also seated himself.

  “Yes, it was a great success, Papa.” Opening her reticule, she took out the envelope, explaining, “Delia has written to you about your donation.”

  Henry Malvern took the envelope, opened it, and read the note. He passed it back to his daughter, so she could read it for herself.

  “She expresses herself very well,” Alexis murmured. “And it is indeed a very generous gift to us. Thank you again, Papa. Delia’s husband gave us five hundred pounds and so did Vera’s, and Claudia Trevalian the same amount. We’ve suddenly got a nice cash reserve.”

  “You do indeed!” he exclaimed. “Is your friend Claudia Trevalian by any chance related to Sebastian Trevalian?” he asked, an interested expression on his face.

  “Yes, she is his eldest daughter,” Alexis answered, but noting the avid curiosity, seeing an eagerness in her father’s eyes, she said nothing else.

  Henry leaned back in the wing chair and was silent for a moment or two, wondering how well his daughter knew Claudia. Unable to resist, he finally asked, “Have you known Claudia a long time? Is she part of the charity?”

  Although she knew where this was leading, Alexis understood she had no option but to continue the conversation. “No, not an old friend, I met her today. She’s Delia’s cousin, and yes, she really wants to be genuinely involved, from what she said. She’s come up with the idea of teaching some of the women to read and has offered to pay for bookshelves and bring books.”

  “How remarkable! And it’s an excellent idea. I’m certain a lot of those endangered women never went to school. So now you’re all set to open Haven House, aren’t you?”

  “We are, Papa, and Delia and I will probably do so next week. We want to get the word around first, so that people know of its existence.”

  “I will tell Jack Holden and some of the other stall holders when I go to the Malvern on Monday. They’ll spread the word. Good news travels as fast as bad news, you know. And how old is your new friend?”

  “Claudia? Oh, I’m not sure, about twenty, I think.”

  “Yes, that sounds right. Her mother died when she was quite young … ten years ago, if I remember correctly, when Claudia was ten. And I must say Sebastian has done a wonderful job of bringing up his three girls. With th
e help of nannies, I’ve no doubt, but he’s been a spectacular father, devoted to them.”

  Before she could stop herself, Alexis said, “You sound as if you know him.”

  “I do, but not in the sense of being a friend. He’s a nodding acquaintance, shall we say. We’re members of the same club.”

  Alexis merely nodded, not daring to say another word, not wishing to be drawn into a conversation about Sebastian Trevalian. But her father had other ideas, and her heart sank when he began to speak.

  “Trevalian’s the most eligible man in London, from what I hear. Only forty, a widower with a fine reputation, no scandals about women. Handsome, rich, and available. No wonder women fall at his feet.”

  “Oh really,” Alexis muttered. “Have you seen them actually doing that?”

  Henry began to laugh. “No, of course not, no one means it literally. It’s just a saying. They do flock around him, though, according to some of the other club members. A few of the men wonder why he’s never remarried, others don’t. They think he enjoys his bachelor life to the hilt.”

  Alexis sat very still on the edge of her chair, not liking the way she was feeling. Her chest had tightened, and she was suddenly uneasy. Obviously Sebastian was one of those men about town they called playboys. Why do I care? It doesn’t matter to me what he does.

  She knew she must remove herself from her father’s presence for a while, otherwise he would go on and on about Claudia’s father. Single men drew him like a bee to honey. He was always on the lookout for a good, upstanding, available man. For her. Even though he knew she was not interested in becoming involved with any of them, and certainly marriage was out of the question. For her.

  She stood up, clutching her reticule and the envelope, which she passed back to her father. “If you don’t mind, Papa, I am going to go to my room and change my clothes. I thought I would wear one of my house gowns for supper. They are much more comfortable.”

  “Yes, my dear, do go and change. And I shall continue to read David Copperfield.”

  “Yet again,” she said, smiling at him. He looked about to speak, and she cut across him and said, “I do know it’s your favorite book of all time. It was even Dickens’s own favorite.”

  “Do you always have to have the last word?” he asked, his eyes loving.

  She brought her fingers to her lips, shaking her head. Then she blew him a kiss and disappeared.

  * * *

  Within minutes, her lovely maid, Tilda, was in her room, helping Alexis undress. First she undid all of the little buttons down the back and helped her out of the dress. Alexis removed her small hat. Then Tilda began to unlace the tight corset which went over her torso and down over her hips. Once the corset was removed, two different petticoats came off, then the half-hoop which was tied around her waist. The last things to be removed were her knickers, the chemise across her chest, and finally the garter belt and silk stockings.

  Naked, Alexis slipped on the silk robe Tilda held out to her and tied it, turned around to look at her maid, and thanked her profusely.

  “What a relief it is to get these undergarments off,” Alexis said. With a smile and another word of thanks, she went into the adjoining bathroom as Tilda began to hang up the gown.

  Feeling free at last, Alexis stretched her arms above her head; bent low, touched her toes; then she waved her arms in the air and reached for the ceiling. She did these exercises every night, the moment her garments were removed. They were very constricting.

  Once she felt suppler and free, she leaned forward, gazed at herself in the mirror above the washstand. There was no doubt in her mind that she did look rather nice this afternoon … how hard he had stared at her. When she had looked at him through the carriage window, he had held her eyes, devoured her with his. She had been unable to look away. His eyes were so translucent she felt as though she were looking deep into his soul. Something had been said without words … a message had been sent.

  She turned away from the mirror swiftly. Why was she thinking about Sebastian Trevalian? She must dismiss him from her thoughts.

  Returning to her bedroom, she found it was empty. Tilda had put her clothes away and disappeared. Before leaving, her maid had closed the draperies and placed a small quilt on the chaise, so that Alexis could take a rest before supper.

  She lay down, covered herself with the quilt, and closed her eyes. But she did not fall asleep. Her mind turned and turned … about the charity, her new friend, Claudia, and Claudia’s father.

  Why was he stuck in her mind? Because of his extraordinary eyes, and what they had told her so eloquently. That he desired her, wanted to be with her, aimed to get her. She could not allow that to happen. Sebastian Trevalian might be the most handsome man she had ever met, but he was also the most dangerous.

  Nine

  Claudia loved Aunt Dorothea, her father’s sister. She was a very special woman, rather unique, and she had been kind to them all after their mother’s death, extremely caring. Claudia’s two sisters, Lavinia and Marietta, loved her as much as she did, and their father adored her.

  At this moment, Thea, as she had always been called, was sitting with Sebastian near the bay window in the parlor; Claudia was at the other side of the room, seated near the fireplace. Even on this late afternoon in July, the weather had already cooled, and the fireside was a warm and welcoming place to relax.

  Although she was a widow and well taken care of by her husband’s considerable estate, Claudia was aware that Aunt Thea was a shareholder in the family’s private bank, which her father ran. His sister was also on the board of directors and had been for years. Of course she was. Her father protected those he loved.

  Close together, chatting animatedly, Claudia saw them objectively for a moment. Anyone would know they were brother and sister, so alike were they in appearance. Although Aunt Thea had brighter blond hair and pale blue eyes, their features were similar, cast no doubt.

  Dorothea Trevalian Rayburn was fifty years old, but did not look it. Her husband, Martin, had died fifteen years ago in a riding accident. He was thrown by a new stallion he was attempting to break and train. It was an instantaneous death; he broke his neck in the fall.

  Aunt Thea had once told her that she was glad it was instantaneous and that he had not been left a cripple for life. “He wouldn’t have been able to tolerate that,” Aunt Thea had explained, “being such an athletic man, a hunting-shooting-fishing man.”

  Claudia saw the truth in that, but then she was down-to-earth just like her aunt. She glanced around whilst her father and aunt went over more bank papers.

  As always, she admired the way Aunt Thea had furnished the room in light pastel colors. The upholstered sofas and chairs were comfortable and filled with cushions, and there weren’t too many small occasional tables. These were used in most homes in this era. But Aunt Thea’s were tall tables, chosen to accommodate the crinolines the women wore. Because of their height, they didn’t get knocked over.

  Her thoughts went to Alexis, who had been dressed in a tailored gown, the kind she herself now preferred. The purple suit she was wearing today was the most comfortable outfit she owned, and she decided there and then that she would have another one made by Madame Valance. Alexis. Her image hovered in her head. She had liked her the moment they had met at Delia’s house earlier, had thought her to be the most beautiful of women. No wonder her father had looked at Alexis twice. That she understood. What had puzzled her was his blatant moving in on Alexis, the way his eyes had been riveted on her the entire time she was with them.

  Turning in the chair, Claudia stared at the fire, watching the flames flying up the chimney. She was remembering how, when they were in their carriage, finally coming here to Kensington, that her father had been silent, looked preoccupied, gazing out of the window most of the time. Hardly speaking. And she had noticed he appeared taut, distracted. It was then that she realized he had been genuinely affected by Alexis, which was something she had never ever seen happen
with any other woman before.

  In fact, there had not been many women around him since her mother’s death. He had certain women friends of long standing, whom he invited to join him on special occasions or to go to events, but she was aware they were merely friends. If he knew any other women, with whom he might have more intimate relationships, she did not know about them …

  “Claudia, here we are.” His voice brought her out of her thoughts as he strode across the room, followed by her aunt, who said, “I’m afraid I’ve neglected you, my dear,” and sat down in a nearby chair.

  Claudia smiled at her. “It’s nice just being here in this lovely room, Aunt Thea. And I think I’ve spotted a new painting, haven’t I?”

  “You have indeed,” Thea answered, and immediately rose, beckoning Claudia to follow her.

  Sebastian said, “It’s the John Everett Millais you mentioned to me, isn’t it?”

  “It is indeed.”

  The three of them stood grouped in front of the painting on a side wall. It took pride of place, hanging alone, without any other paintings to crowd in on it.

  “What a beautiful little boy blowing bubbles,” Claudia said, staring at the painting, her face full of smiles.

  “In fact, it is called Bubbles, my dear. The perfect name, I think,” Thea replied. “The artist started it in 1875, and finished it in 1876. Someone owned it before me. I was so happy to get it.”

  Sebastian stared at the painting for the longest moment, before saying, “Millais is the best of the current painters, in my opinion, and his attention to detail is quite amazing. I think that if I touch the boy’s trousers I’ll actually feel the velvet, it’s so realistic. And congratulations, Thea, I know how much you longed to own this.”

 

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