The young creature who sped barefooted through a night brightened by the light of millions of stars and flickering fireflies, with her dainty slippers carried carelessly in one hand and her mane of hair swinging between her shoulders, was a very different Alexa from the fashionably gowned and coiffed Miss Howard Lord Charles was used to seeing. Tonight she more resembled a half-wild gypsy as she ran as swiftly and as soundlessly as the jungle predators she was used to stalking; relishing the sudden, almost heady sense of freedom that filled her and would make this wild, rash escapade seem worthwhile even if he had decided not to wait for her. She had regained her sense of belonging only to herself—of being capable of daring anything and facing anything at all—and what fun she was having!
Having run all the way, using the shortcut she remembered from past visits here, Alexa arrived at the small grove of coconut trees that fringed the beach and found herself quite out of breath, so that she was forced to pause for a minute or two in order to regain it. She seemed to have forgotten how long it had always seemed to take to arrive at the beach from the house, even if they did take the narrow and rather zigzag path that cut between trees and tall shrubbery. But at least she’d been lucky enough not to encounter any reptiles along the way or hear an owl issue its mournful cry of warning tonight!
She had leaned her back against a tree while she caught her breath, and now Alexa shook her head impatiently to ward off her own thoughts. There was no sound to be heard except for the rustling of leaves overhead whenever a slight puff of sea breeze brushed against them and the endless soft sighing of the sea waves as they slid up the closely packed yellow-and-blue-tinged sand and retreated. Back and forth and back and forth... Of course he wouldn’t be here, still waiting. He had probably become discouraged by now and had left, thinking that she had not been able to manage to escape from the house after all; and he wasn’t well enough acquainted with her to know that if Alexa Howard made a promise she would keep it.
Ah, well, at least she still had the night and the ocean all to herself! Straightening, Alexa stretched her arms above her head before lifting the weight of her hair off the back of her neck. How hot and heavy it felt since she’d stopped to rest. Reaching in her pocket for the green velvet ribbon she’d snatched up just before leaving, Alexa contrived rather impatiently to tie back her hair in a careless fashion that she decided would have to do for the present, even if the bow was knotted rather clumsily. She found herself longing to wade in the ocean again and to run along the beach playing tag with the waves as she’d done as a child. And why not? But first she must make quite certain that poor Lord Charles was not still waiting for her after all.
Still carrying her soft leather slippers in one hand and pulling her gown calf-high with the other, Alexa left the sheltering darkness of the coconut trees to run lightly over the damp sand, sometimes letting tiny wavelets lick at her heels. When she glanced out to sea there were only the tiny, flickering lights of native fishing boats to be discerned; and above the darker, undulating surface of the ocean the myriads of stars seemed tumbled in their bright clusters against midnight blue velvet.
How beautiful nighttime was! And here by the ocean there were different smells to be breathed in and savored, while the night sky seemed to arch and stretch ahead forever without the stark-black outlines of hills and mountains or densely growing jungle vegetation that always seemed to limit or take away from the vastness of the sky. Without her quite realizing it, Alexa’s steps had slowed, then paused, as she gazed at the dark, wavering line of the horizon. Her horizon—the furthest she could remember seeing. Would she ever go beyond and see the horizon continue to stretch and stretch ahead of her until she sighted other lands and other oceans? Would she ever get the chance to sight flying fishes and great whales and see ice floes floating on cold black seas, or watch the seasons change and feel what snow was like? Ah—for all of her reading about other countries and distant places whose very names spelled enchantment and mystery and her viewing of paintings and sketches and listening to descriptions, she had still not truly experienced anything beyond this small tropical island of about 25,000 square miles that was known as the Pearl of the Indian Ocean. Or Lanka...Serendib...Taprobane...Zeilan...so many other names from times long past when merchants and explorers from all corners of the world had traveled here; some to pause and to trade and some, caught by a certain spell, to stay. Perhaps Ceylon was the fabled land of the Lotus Eaters described in Homer’s Odyssey, Alexa thought suddenly. For even if distant horizons could beckon on a night such as this with questions and images and promises of rainbows‘-ends, there were still the hot golden-and-green shadowed days that slipped languorously by like water ripples in the wake of a slow-gliding canoe; making it far too easy to allow yourself to be lazy and dream life away without realizing it or even, in the end, caring.
“Why don’t we ever go to England to visit? Everyone else we know does.”
“For one thing, because your father is far too busy to leave the plantation. And for another, because neither you nor Freddy could stand the cold or the dampness.”
“Well, France then! Doesn’t Mama have any relatives or friends there? Or Spain. I know from my geography book that it is always hot in the south of Spain. Or...”
“Alexa, that is enough! Your poor mama has no family left alive in France; and in any case you know very well she’d never leave your papa to try to manage alone; and neither would I. Perhaps one day when you are grown up and married you will travel...”
Dialogue from the past, suddenly returning to her mind as she stared at the distant, moving line between sea and sky. And when had she stopped questioning and become quite happy and content with her life and the activities she filled it with? Why, she had even been reluctant to leave home in order to come to Colombo, where she would have to face new people and new experiences. Thoughtfully, Alexa dug her bare toes into the sand before she moved back to watch a wave smooth out the impression she had left. So much for her impression left on Colombo society—if that nasty Mrs. Langford could have her way!
Suddenly remembering why she had ventured out here in the first place, Alexa pushed straying tendrils of hair off her forehead and temples crossly, annoyed at herself for dallying to indulge in fanciful thoughts. She had promised Lord Charles that she would meet him by what she had always called “the sea wall”—that section of high stone wall marking the boundary of Sir John Travers’s property that extended all the way down to the ocean, reserving a pretty stretch of private beach for his use.
“A wall!” Lord Charles had chuckled, delightedly. “Why, it reminds me of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, although I hope we will not be forced to converse only through a chink in it!”
Alexa remembered laughing at the suddenly dismayed look that had clouded his expressive features for a moment before she had relented enough to explain that their bridle path would take them past the wall in question and that although it was high on this side her Uncle John had had rough steps built on his side of the wall in case any of his more curious guests might wish to observe what went on beyond it.
“Ah, then you are determined to keep a wall between us!”
“Well...perhaps only until I am quite sure I can trust you—or until you’re ingenious enough to think of a way of scaling it from your side!”
It had probably been that particular bit of teasing conversation that had driven Charlotte Langford to distraction because she could not understand a word of what they were saying, Alexa thought, a fleeting smile touching her lips when she remembered the look poor Charlotte’s face had worn. Well, both Charlotte and her mother would probably swoon from sheer horror if they could have known exactly what the brazen hussy with free and easy manners was up to this time! And as for poor Lord Charles... Alexa had started to run again, but now she slowed her steps deliberately as she thought, If he’s been patient enough to wait all this time, a few minutes longer Won't make too much difference—and I certainly don’t want him to think I’m too
eager! But I wonder if he is there, waiting?
As Alexa approached the stone wall it seemed to look much higher than she remembered it, slicing darkly against the star bright sky. Goodness, the poor man! Why hadn’t she thought of suggesting a small boat instead? Unless he’d brought a ladder...! Suddenly nervous and uncertain of herself Alexa had to catch back an almost hysterical giggle at the thought. Ladder indeed, as if they were planning an elopement! And of course he wasn’t still there on the other side of the wall. He had probably given her up a long time ago!
Halting irresolutely once she had reached her destination, Alexa decided against attempting those shallow indentations that passed for steps in order to peer over the top. Not when she was hampered by a skirt. Looking up, she hesitated another moment before, with a slight shrug, she cupped her hands about her mouth and emitted a low but carrying whistle. She knew well enough that ladies never did anything so vulgar as to whistle, but if Lord Charles was there and heard he would surely be broadminded enough to understand. Would he guess that it was she and not some night bird? Rather impatiently, Alexa gave the same low whistle once again, this time adding a trilling note at the end. She had suddenly begun, for no sensible reason, to feel uneasy, and found herself almost eager to end her adventure now and return to the house. In fact, she had already picked up her skirts again in preparation when she received the response she had only half expected. Only—it was neither a straightforward whistle nor a birdcall but something different—something that sent involuntary shivers up and down her spine and seemed to freeze her into stiff stillness for some moments. The hoot of an owl! And there it came again, much closer this time, and of course it could not really be an owl because she knew very well that there were no trees nearby. Such an eerie kind of sound! It’s no wonder the natives call it the devil-bird, Alexa caught herself thinking almost superstitiously. And only a short while ago I was telling myself that... She shook herself mentally the next moment, thoroughly annoyed at herself for reacting in such a silly fashion. After all, the cry of an owl was a normal night sound, and that, no doubt, was why he had chosen...
She was on the verge of being daring enough to call out softly when a slight sound made Alexa lift her head sharply, like a young doe scenting danger on the wind; and it was at that moment that she saw a dark shape detach itself from the top of the wall to land before her with a soft, scrunching sound as feet hit sand.
“Oh!” Alexa could not stop herself from gasping before she tried to recover that involuntary show of weakness with a relieved bubble of speech that was quite unlike her. “How ever did you manage that? I’d forgotten that this wall was built so as to render it practically impossible to... And I’m sorry I am so late in getting here, but it was more difficult than I had thought it might be to leave without anyone knowing, and I really could not have blamed you in the least if you had grown tired of waiting or surmised that I might not come at all! And I am still not quite certain if...if this meeting is quite wise, you know...or sensible either! And I do not usually keep rattling on in this ridiculous fashion, I’d have you know, but you did startle me a little bit, by appearing as suddenly as you did. For heaven’s sake! Why can’t you find something to say? Even if it is only to keep me from going on and on... You... Ohh!”
Suddenly, and with shocking unexpectedness, Alexa found her flow of words cut off in the middle of a startled exclamation as she felt herself seized roughly into a far too close embrace while he began to kiss her into silence— and very thoroughly too; but how dared he? And especially after making her such solemn promises, the very first thing he had done was to try to take immediate advantage of her foolish trust in his word as a gentleman!
Filled with righteous indignation Alexa began to struggle and twist furiously against the almost hurtful pressure of his arms and this kiss that bruised her lips against her gritted teeth until she actually tasted blood. Who did he think he was dealing with? Some timid village maiden who might feel flattered by a young Lord’s crude attentions? Well, she was capable of fighting back, and he’d soon find that out, to his cost!
He had managed, by the sheer unexpectedness of his attack on her, to capture both of her hands between their bodies; but now, as Alexa was transformed into a raging virago who kicked viciously at his shins with her bare feet at one moment and then arched her body backward while twisting her head wildly from side to side at the same time, she managed to inch one hand free at least. The lying, cheating reprobate! She’d show him! Like a maddened wildcat Alexa tore at him with her nails, wishing only that they had been knives as she ripped furiously at his shirt until it tore and she was clawing at his flesh now; feeling it catch under her nails until the blood flowed. She told herself that had she been able to reach his face instead of his back, she would have slashed it to ribbons! But at least she’d made sure that he’d bear some scars to remind him another time not to mistake the kind of quarry he thought to trap so easily.
They were both panting by now, he with the grim determination to keep her captive and she with an even greater determination to fight herself free. Whatever he had expected when he had yielded to a sudden impulse, it had not been a battle with a female mountain cat with a supple, athletic body that would not stop twisting and turning almost frenziedly—a cat with sharp claws she used with a vicious ferocity he could hardly believe, even when he first felt them gouge and rip at the flesh of his back. Christ! The damned little bitch-cat was liable to rip his flesh to ribbons if he couldn’t get her calmed down enough to listen to him.
Had he but known it, Alexa was in such a desperate white heat of fury that she could not have heard, let alone understood, anything he might have said over the pounding of blood in her temples that drummed against the roaring in her ears. She was, in fact, not even herself at that moment—not the Alexa Howard who could behave like a lady if she had to—but a purely primitive creature who would use tooth and claw to kill or maim. Even the stifled noises of protest she made under the gag of his mouth had begun to sound more like growls of rage and hate; and when he lifted his head for a moment to say something to her, she gathered what spittle there was in her mouth and spat into his face with a hiss that reminded him even more forcibly of a cat. And when he would have attempted to silence her wild and almost incoherent cries once more, she drew her lips back from her teeth and tried to bite him. Dammit! Something had to be done with her, and quickly too, before she got the best of him.
Alexa had started to kick at him wildly again when suddenly—too unexpectedly for her to be able to keep her balance—she felt herself released; only to fall sprawling backward onto the hard-packed sand with enough of a jar to shock her into momentary silence. Blinking her eyes back into focus again, she saw a dark, menacing figure loom over her and tried to push herself into an upright position without being aware that she was panting out loud; each indrawn breath sounding almost like a sob.
“Oh for Christ’s sake! You couldn’t have hurt yourself falling back onto the sand.... Not that you don’t deserve much worse, you vicious little hellcat, all claws and teeth! I’ve begun to wonder why in hell I troubled to come out here and wait a good hour at least, just to make sure that you... And now what the devil ails you?”
“Ohhh! Oohhh!” As her initial feeling of shock was replaced by renewed fury, Alexa found herself incapable of coherent speech for some moments while her mind adjusted itself to what she had belatedly discovered. Not the Viscount Deering at all but him! The Spaniard—her saturnine, cynical bete noire, of all people! Why hadn’t she guessed right away?
And now, after his insultingly cavalier treatment of her, he had the supreme effrontery to pretend some concern for her, even to the extent of offering her his hand while he said condescendingly in that drawling accent of his that she detested:
“I’m sure you’ll find that there’s nothing wrong with you except for a few well-deserved bruises, you little vixen! Here...let’s find out if you can stand...”
Before she had the chance to
protest Alexa felt herself positively hauled to her feet in a manner that jarred her all over again, while Nicholas de la Guerra dared to add fuel to her fury by suggesting that instead of just standing there like a ninny she might as well brush some of the sand off her gown while she held her tongue and listened for a change.
A red mist of pure rage fogging the rational part of her mind, Alexa sprang at him again, fingers curved into talons as she clawed for his eyes—that hateful, mocking face she remembered all too well. And if he had not been as tall as he was or his instincts as sharp as they were, she might have found his eyes instead of merely gouging the side of his neck—and barely missing the jugular vein.
Nicholas’s reflexes had always been fast, and he had lived the kind of life where survival depended upon finely tuned nerves and senses; but if he had not also developed a certain measure of control over his purely reflexive reaction to any sudden attack, he might easily have killed her, as he had killed before. Fortunately for Alexa he had felt wary of the way she had stood looking at him through narrowed eyes soon after he had helped her back onto her feet. She had reminded him of a mountain cat that settles back onto its haunches just before it leaps for the throat, and it was just as well that even while he spoke to her with deliberate brusqueness he had continued to watch her carefully. How fast she had moved! Fast, and out to kill! Bracing himself just in time, he had managed to seize one of her wrists even while he felt her nails tear at his neck.
The little...! Angry now, he gave the slim wrist he held a sharp twist that made her cry out with pain, and caught her other wrist when she tried to claw at him again.
“You...you! Let me go! I’d like to kill you! I...”
“I’m sure you would indeed, you goddamned hellcat!”
With a painful swiftness that forced a cry of protest from her, he pinioned both of her wrists behind her back, holding her helpless and almost spitting with frustration before him while he continued between his teeth, feeling the warm ooze of blood crawling down the side of his neck to soak into his torn shirt: “And now that I finally have you quietened down for the moment, are you going to hear me out? Or will you force me into snapping the bones in your wrists in order to keep you still? You may be certain that I would have no compunction about doing so if you push me to it!”
Surrender to Love Page 15