Papa needed her, and she had promised not to desert him. But what about her? What about her life, her friends? Would she ever belong to herself again? Like a caged, restless young lioness Alexa paced about her room from door to window and back again with her thoughts troubled by conflicting emotions. She had tried telling herself that it was the unusual hot spell that made her feel so irritable and unsettled. And she had tried not to make too much out of what had happened when Letty and Paul had come for dinner a few days ago. After all, Papa had not been rude, nor had he said anything specific to cause the feeling of constraint that had prevailed throughout the whole evening, making it a stiff, uncomfortable occasion for all of them. No, Papa had seemed to make an effort to keep up a stream of pleasant conversation which he directed to Paul as well as Letty. But all the same, dinner had suddenly become a formal affair, as if they had all been polite strangers who were not quite comfortable with each other. And when Letty had pressed Alexa warmly to call on her again soon, it had been Papa who answered for her to say that he couldn’t spare Alexa during this particular time, although perhaps later on...?
“We are fortunate indeed,” Papa had said with a smile, “to have in you a friend understanding enough to overlook a breach of etiquette that was committed, of course, quite innocently and unknowingly, by my headstrong little miss here. Naturally, the next time Alexa goes calling she will not be unchaperoned. As you know, it takes precious little to get a young girl talked about in an undesirable fashion. Too many jealous mamas, eh?”
Alexa bit her lip as she paused for a moment before resuming her almost frenzied pacing back and forth. It was not as if Papa had said anything outright of course, but all the same she hadn’t felt quite comfortable. And then, just today...
The two young officers who had called had been her hunting companions as well as her closest friends. Was it possible that it had only been less than three months ago? Papa had politely invited them to dismount and come into the shade of the verandah, but he had not invited them to sit down. And when one of them had rather stammeringly suggested that perhaps Alex—beg pardon, Miss Howard— might care to go riding some day or join them on the hunt they were planning next month, Papa had gently but firmly put a stop to that as well.
“Very kind and thoughtful of you young fellows, of course. But you’ll understand, I’m sure, especially if you have sisters of your own, why I cannot permit a young lady to go about unchaperoned as she might have done when she was younger, eh?” And then after the awkward, stammering leave-taking had left them alone again, Papa had patted her cheek affectionately, giving her a quizzical smile.
“There, my dear. Aren’t you relieved that I got rid of those bothersome young fellows for you? Hunting indeed! Far too rough and dangerous, and certainly not a suitable sport for a young lady!”
It’s only because he’s afraid of losing me too, she’d told herself then, letting pity drown her first instinctive feeling of resentment. For after all, Papa had begun to depend on her so and, in fact, almost to cling to her as if he needed the constant reassurance of her presence somewhere close to him. He made her feel protected and cherished— and...and caged! Pausing in mid-stride, Alexa bit her Up as the word she had tried to avoid came into her mind and suddenly filled it with unwanted images that only made her feel guilty. A pet mynah bird with its wings clipped to keep it from flying too far away. Her days planned for her with loving benevolence, her time measured out. Oh no, it was not fair of her to think along such lines, and she ought to be ashamed of herself!
“Alexa?”
Whirling around on her bare feet, she wondered why her heart should have suddenly started to pound.
“Yes, Papa. I’m here.”
“I didn’t wake you up, did I, my dear?”
“No, of course you didn’t. It’s far too hot to fall asleep.” And oh, how could she possibly, even if it was only for an instant, feel as if she actually hated poor papa?
“Feel the heat myself! Thought I’d ask if you’d like a pitcher of cold water brought upstairs since I was going down in any case. But—my dear! That’s rather a skimpy garment you have on, isn’t it? And your windows open wide too! I mean, one of those damned coolies might take it into his head to...”
He was her father. Why should he need to knock before he entered her room? He needed patience and understanding... but all the same Alexa could not prevent her voice from sounding a trifle strained and impatient as she said: “Oh, Papa! You know very well that all the coolies are probably hiding in the shade somewhere, and in any case my windows are far too high up for anyone to see in! I think I’d suffer from heatstroke if I wore anything heavier than this old petticoat; and even this makes me feel so...”
“Heatstroke? My dearest child, you don’t feel... Are you sure you do not feel ill or...or weak? The heat... Perhaps I should call Harriet at once...” His face had turned quite pale with fear and concern and Alexa felt as if she could have bitten her unruly tongue.
“Of course I am not ill or weak in the least! I should not have spoken so carelessly when I only meant to say that I would feel far too hot indeed if I...”
“I understand, my dear, I understand. And you must forgive me for my old-fashioned attitudes. Privacy of your own room, after all, eh? Anything allowable in private, what? Innocence is its own protection, I’m sure—so many things you cannot understand yet! But you’re my good, sweet, innocent little girl, aren’t you? My Victorine’s daughter—Alexandra Victoria. You were named after our new Queen, did you know? And after Victorine too, of course. See more and more of her in you each day, it seems.” He touched her bare, damp arm gently and lovingly while he looked searchingly into her still face. “And it was you who helped me understand, my dear. Opened my eyes. I should have known she wouldn’t leave me quite bereft, if she had to go away. Left you, didn’t she? To make up for... Well! But I mustn’t stand here keeping you from taking your nap, must I? Must promise me you’ll lie down and rest; you look quite drawn and tired. Perhaps a tonic might do some good. I’ll go and ask Harriet at once; she’d know!”
She had worried so much over Papa, and now he was worrying over her. And that was only natural, wasn’t it? He was Papa—familiar and beloved—hovering over her only because he was afraid of losing her too, that was all! He was concerned for her—loving...
Sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at the door he had closed gently behind him, Alexa tried to control her own strange, wild thoughts by telling herself that it was the heat that had affected her without her realizing it; making her imagine the strangest things. Like seeing a stranger look out at her from behind Papa’s eyes when he’d stroked her arm affectionately, as he’d done so often before. There was no reason for her to have had the sudden, violent instinct to snatch it away—or to have the unreasoning fear that perhaps he meant to keep her here with him for always; never letting her out of his sight, always hovering, always fussing over her—keeping her away from everybody else and only to himself, only for himself.
The heat! An over-fevered imagination that let all kinds of irrational, nonsensical thoughts into her mind. No wonder Aunt Harriet was always reminding her to think logically, to be practical. Sanity and sense!
Alexa flung herself down on her bed and lay there with her fingers pressed against her temples; concentrating only on breathing in and out until her ayah came in to remind her that it was almost tea time and she was expected downstairs.
So hot! It was enough to make anyone’s mind play strange tricks. By the time she had been sponged all over with cool water and had slipped into a pale yellow cotton batiste gown with a skirt that was made up of tier upon tier of pretty ruffles edged with dainty white eyelet embroidery, Alexa had begun to feel more like her usual self.
She even made plans as she walked downstairs. A trip to Colombo as soon as the beans were ready for dispatch to the mills. If it would not be considered quite proper for her to stay with Sir John, then perhaps they could take a hotel room, she and Aunt
Harriet. Papa would surely be quite himself by then.
It was not quite as hot on the shady verandah as it had been upstairs, Alexa found to her relief. And after tea had been poured and the tiny sandwiches and light tea cakes handed around, she actually felt her spirits rise. The conversation was light and innocuous and dealt mostly with the garden and the planting of the new roses that had been ordered.
“Perhaps a small fishpond might be quite pretty—if it’s put in a shady spot, of course. With a fountain, if you think it can be contrived.”
“But what does Alexa think?” Papa turned to her with an indulgent smile. “After all, this is your home, and the gardens your concern now. Everything belongs to you now, my dear, just as you belong here—eh, Harriet? And of course you must tell me if there is anything you want changed in the house—new furniture for your room perhaps? New curtains— Oh, we can afford it, my dear, so you need not look so worried!”
“But you have already been more than generous, Papa. Why, think of the cost of all the pretty new gowns I took with me to Colombo! If you continue to lavish so much on me I’m sure that when I marry my husband will accuse me of being far too spoiled to afford!” Alexa had spoken lightly and almost teasingly, with a smile that showed her dimple, never imagining for an instant that her innocently spoken words might cause a thunderstorm to erupt out of the clear sky.
“Marry, did you say? When you marry? What kind of talk is this I hear? How did you get such notions in your head? Well, miss? You need not keep staring at me in that guilty manner now that the cat’s out of the bag! Who is he? Who have you been meeting on the sly? By God, I’ll have his name, or...”
Thunderstruck, Alexa could neither move nor speak, even when she felt his hands grab her shoulders with a roughness as shocking as it was unexpected and his voice continued to attack her as well. “I’ll have the truth from you for a change, girl! Tell me—tell me how far you let him go! How many favors did you grant him, or let him take? Answer me! Or is it guilt that holds you silent? Has he—this man you speak so loosely of marrying—has he defiled you yet? Do you still have your virtue? By God, I thought you innocent— good—answer me!”
In the end, Alexa recovered her senses at about the same instant that she heard Harriet cry out sharply, “Martin, stop! Stop this madness at once, I tell you! You’re...”
With all the suddenly mustered strength of her young, athletic body, Alexa sprang up from her seat, twisting herself free of his almost feverish grasp at the same time and almost falling to her knees before she managed to surge to her feet, panting—the chair toppling with a crash between them.
“Don’t! I haven’t...oh, but you have no right, no right to...”
“Martin! For God’s sake, have you taken leave of your senses? You must know very well that Alexa has hardly left this house for over a week!”
Harriet had spoken at almost the same time as she, but now Alexa said in a constricted, almost gasping voice, “Papa, how dare you! And I do not care at this moment that you are my father, for that does not give you the right to... accuse me and make vile insinuations without any foundation or any reason! Ohh!”
Her pretty yellow dress was actually torn at the shoulder, and she felt bruised, both inside and out. She would have given anything in the world to turn and run and to keep on running blindly, if only she had a place to run to. And now, unable to help herself, she watched him through narrowed, hostile eyes as she might have watched some stranger; even when his mouth began to work and his eyes filled with tears. Strangely she felt no pity at all on this occasion—feeling like a stranger watching a stranger.
“But you talked of marriage! Husband, you said, just as if it was already settled! Unless it was only to make me jealous... Was that it, my dear? You promise me there’s been no one? Haven’t been with a man yet? That greasy foreigner who shares Letty Dearborn’s bed— You used his first name...”
“Stop! Please...!” She had to control her breathing before she could manage to go on in a calm enough tone of voice: “If you find it difficult to believe that I am still a virgin and cannot take my word for it, then I suppose you could have me examined by a doctor if you choose. You have the legal right to make me submit to even that degradation, as I am quite aware.”
“My dear—don’t! Don’t look at me like that! I wouldn’t... You know I didn’t mean it all, don’t you? Only, when I heard you speak so lightly and casually of marriage and a husband, just as if you had one picked out already... Why, my dear, if you were only teasing me, surely you understand now how cruel it was? Wasn’t it, Harriet? And you haven’t let a man touch you, have you? My own dear Alexa—my Victorine come back to stay with me—so pure and untouched— How should you know what some men are really like? Faithless... liars... ask Harriet, she knows! Don’t you sister?”
“Martin, please! Don’t you think... The servants! We...”
“I pay them well, don’t I? Pay them well enough so they won’t eavesdrop or gossip, and they know it! And Alexa—my dear, you’ll understand and forgive me for doubting in the end, won’t you? Understand that I only mean to protect you and keep you from being sullied by filthy, treacherous hands! You’ll have everything, anything at all you want— here, where you’re safe and watched over. You love me, don’t you? Said you did, didn’t she, Harriet? You mustn’t be angry with me— You know I mean well! Shall I buy you a pretty ring to make you smile again? A brooch? You shall name what you want and I’ll give it to you—make you happy!”
“I only want... Papa, if you mean what you say then the only gift I really wish is freedom. The right to choose my own friends—and your trust as well.”
“Freedom? Own friends? I don’t understand! You don’t mean men, do you, dear? You don’t know what they’re like, and you’ll thank me some day for saving you from the pain—the shame that comes with remorse and disillusionment. Ah, my poor Victorine! She could have told you—warned you! But I always loved her, you know. Never stopped; would have taken her on any conditions. And since then she ever made me jealous, never gave me cause. You wouldn’t either, would you, Alexa? We have only each other now, you know. You and I. Alexa—no. Don’t go from me! Where...”
“If you will excuse me, please? Because—as you see, my sleeve is torn and...and I must go upstairs and change...mustn’t I, Aunt Harriet? If I may be excused?” Alexa felt as if she had been turned into ice, even the blood in her veins. And if she had to beg to be excused again she knew that her teeth would start to chatter uncontrollably.
“Of course you must change at once, before your dress slips off your shoulder and you catch a chill in this suddenly cool breeze! Yes, do run along, dear; and I’ll send Ayah up to help you.”
Chapter 21
How could what had to be a nightmare continue and continue? Why couldn’t she force herself to wake up? Alexa leaned her back against her door, hardly realizing that she was shaking as if she had the ague. She had to grit her teeth together to keep them from chattering so loudly that she could not even hear her own thoughts. Words, phrases, hints, insinuations came back to her mind like poisoned darts that kept spreading their venom in spite of all her efforts to think clearly.
What did it all mean? Oh, but perhaps she didn’t really want to know! Perhaps she would be better off to try and convince herself that nothing had happened at all. Her breathing sounded like sobs; and her eyes kept hunting about the confining space of her room almost desperately, although she had no idea what she was looking for. Oh God! All her worst imaginings then were true and he— she could hardly bear to call him Papa any longer—he did not mean to let her go. “We have only each other now, you and I.” He meant to keep her from-—defilement. “Pure and innocent.” Keep her away from all men save himself. Alexa could almost have laughed with bitter amusement at her own naive stupidity. Why had she not sensed something wrong before? He had not really come back to his senses as she and Harriet had thought. He had slipped even further into the depths of—what had to be madness, wit
hout either of them seeing it. Where before he had occasionally taken her for her mother, now he saw her as— even if her mind shied away from the ugly thought, she felt compelled to answer it. A gift to him from his Victorine. Her own mama’s surrogate! Trained to grace his dinner table and to pour his tea and be always there, so that he would not feel lonely.
Oh, I must run away! her mind cried feverishly. But where and to whom would she go? If she went to Letty it would only make trouble for her friend, and he—Papa— would think she had gone to Paul. She almost shuddered when she thought of what he might do in a demented rage. No, she could not endanger her friends. And if she had her horse saddled and rode to Kandy, what would she do there without any money of her own? She was only a female after all, and how clearly all of Harriet’s old speeches came back to taunt her now. Papa was her legal guardian, with all rights over her. He could beat her, keep her locked up in her room on a diet of bread and water; and if she tried running away he could have her brought back in disgrace, as if she were a common criminal. And if she should marry, then her husband would have the same rights over her property and her life itself. Unless... Unless...! With the thought that had come to her, Alexa’s mind seemed to clear slightly. Sir John! Dear, dear Uncle John who had offered her real freedom without conditions. He would help her. Oh why, why had she ever sent him that letter putting him off?
Alexa had never bolted her door before, but she did so now before sitting down at her small escritoire to write. Her pen sputtered and her usually neat hand had turned into an untidy scrawl, but no matter. He’d understand and he would come at once. She would not try to think further than that for the moment. A very short letter. Muttu would be taking the dogcart into Kandy with Cook for the next week’s supplies, and he was fond enough of her, she thought, to see that her letter was mailed; especially if she promised him a reward when he returned.
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