Lady Alexandra's Excellent Adventure: A Summersby Tale (24 page)

Snuffing the last of his cigar in a nearby ashtray, Bryce got up and walked across to his daughter. He sat down next to her and pulled her into his arms, giving her all the paternal comfort that she needed. When the tears had passed and she drew away with a trembling sigh, he reached out and took her hands in his. “You mustn’t turn your back on love, Alex. Life is meaningless without it.”

“But the way you suffered . . . not just then but for years afterward. I could see it in your face, the way you pulled away from us, feel it in your demeanor . . . I still can. How can you ask me to embrace something that has caused you so much grief?”

“Because, it’s also been the source of great joy for me. And though the grief was intense, the joy always lingered. You have to understand, where there is love, true and unblemished love, the sort most people only ever get to dream about, grief is the price you have to pay. But speaking as one who’s been fortunate enough to know that kind of love, I can promise you it’s been worth it all. Never in a million years would I trade the pain for all the happiness your mother brought me.” He squeezed Alexandra’s hands—his eyes were glistening and his voice had begun to wobble . “And I count my blessings every day that I’ve known what it feels like to be held in her arms, to walk hand in hand and steal a kiss from her below a willow tree. Yes, your heart will be on constant alert, just waiting for disaster to strike, but such is love, Alex. The best you can do is bury your fears and focus on all the good it will bring you. Because I promise you, if you don’t follow your heart, you’ll wake up one day, knowing you squandered the most precious gift life has to offer you, feeling nothing but emptiness inside and with a mind filled only with regret. This should be your greatest fear, Alex. Not love.”

Alex sat, stunned and shaken. She’d been so busy focusing on all the pain and heartache that came from love that she’d completely missed the point. Worse than that, she’d spent the last nine years running from the only thing that really mattered and straight toward that which promised true anguish—the knowledge that she’d deliberately spurned a chance for true happiness.

“I need him, Papa,” she suddenly whispered as she gazed up at her father. She felt suddenly struck by an overwhelming sense of wonder, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was saying. It soon fled as worry took over. “What if he doesn’t feel the same? What if I’ll always love him and he’ll never love me? Oh God, Papa . . . what if he won’t have me anymore? I’ve been so stupid, so selfish . . . I’ve made such a mess of it all. He’ll never forgive me. How can he? I’ve treated him terribly and now . . .”

Bryce held up his hand to quiet his rambling daughter. He looked serious, though, she couldn’t help but notice the beginnings of a smile. She could hardly imagine what a mess she must seem in his eyes as she aimed for what she hoped to be a less besotted expression. The tears were gone, that was true, but she still wasn’t her old self. No, she was acting like a nervous lovesick girl mooning over her own prince charming—probably with big red hearts glowing in her eyes.

“Pull yourself together, woman,” her father told her firmly. “Now that you’ve got your head back on straight, I’m quite confident everything will work itself out.”

“Really?” she asked with genuine concern as she bit down on her lip. “I’m just so . . . I’ve never felt like this before . . . this need to chase after him as fast as I can while I shout my love for all the world to hear.”

Bryce grinned. “Steady on, Alex, or you’ll scare him off. Now I know how you feel, because I felt the very same thing after meeting your mother.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes. Well, it would hardly be love if you
didn’t
feel that way, but you see . . . it’s never good to just charge ahead. Take your time and make a statement that won’t leave him wondering about what’s in your heart. Now, I do believe an opportunity has presented itself.”

“An opportunity for what?”

“For you to make your statement.”

Alexandra’s jaw dropped. Was her father seriously forging a plan for her to win Michael’s heart? “What are you up to?” she asked cautiously.

“Nothing. But I did receive this invitation earlier today from the Duke and Duchess of Willowbrook. They’ve invited us to attend a ball they’re hosting a week from today. It promises to be the highlight of the season if I am not mistaken.”

“I’m sure it will be,” Alexandra replied with a rather bland expression. “But I don’t see why their ball should be of any interest to me. You know how much I despise dressing up in frilly dresses and such.”

“It should interest you, my dear,” Bryce said with an almost victorious smirk on his lips. “Because the Duke and Duchess of Willowbrook, are none other than your beloved Michael’s parents.”

“Bloody hell!” Alexandra exclaimed as she plopped back in her seat to digest this new piece of information.

“Yes, well . . . I do hope you’ll watch your language when you venture out into public.”

“Hm? Oh . . . yes, of course, Papa . . . sorry.” Michael Ashford was the son of a duke. Why the devil hadn’t she heard about this before? Or maybe she had and she just hadn’t given it much thought. She wasn’t sure. In any case, her father was right in strategizing. Michael was probably the most sought after bachelor on the marriage mart. Young women would be swooning at his feet, and if he thought his relationship with her was over, then . . .

Oh hell!

There was nothing for it. She would have to dive into the middle of the London season and stake her claim before it was too late. “I’m going to London tonight,” she announced as she sprang out of her chair. “I need to pay Aunt V a visit.”

“Calling in the cavalry are we? Well, I’m sure she’ll be delighted to see you, especially once you tell her you’re finally giving her a shot at making a presentable lady out of you.”

Placing her hands on her hips, Alexandra gave her father her most convincing
do not mess with me
stance. “I
am
a presentable lady. I just need a bit of guidance that’s all.”

Sticking out her tongue in a way she hadn’t done since she was five, Alexandra sauntered from the room. A second later she popped her head back in. “Thank you for listening, Papa, and for all the advice.” She then served him her brightest smile before closing the door behind her.

Things were finally beginning to look up.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-
F
OUR

V
irginia Camden, the Viscountess of Lindhurst, was just finishing dinner with her husband, Henry, when a rather bewildered butler entered the dining room. “My lady . . . ah . . . er . . . well . . .”

“Whatever is the matter, Pierson?” Virginia asked as she set her crystal glass back down upon the table after taking a very tiny sip. She never overindulged in anything.

“I’m terribly sorry, my lady, but you appear to have a visitor.”

“A visitor?” Lord Lindhurst asked in obvious disbelief and not without a great deal of annoyance. “Whoever would call upon us at such a late hour? Is there an emergency of some sort?”

“I don’t believe so, my lord. The lady . . .” Pierson looked as if he might turn purple from his effort to complete his sentence—he certainly appeared rather distressed. He took a deep breath, apparently finding it quite a challenge not to let his otherwise perfectly collected facade slide. “She says she’s a relative and that she wishes to see you, my lady, on a matter of some importance.”

“Good heavens.” Virginia quickly dabbed at her mouth with her napkin as she rose from the table. “I’d best see what all of this is about.”

As she came closer to the butler, he leaned toward her and subtly whispered, “She’s wearing breeches, my lady.”

Virginia stopped in her tracks. She had only one female relation who was daring enough to show up on her doorstep dressed like a man and that relation had run off the last time she’d been there. “Alexandra,” she muttered, hurrying past a visibly shaken Pierson in order to greet her niece.

“Well, this is an unexpected surprise,” Virginia exclaimed as her eyes settled on Alexandra’s slim figure. She turned back to frown at Pierson. “You didn’t even offer to take her cloak?”

“No, my lady. I didn’t expect her to stay for long,” he said as he sent a disapproving glance in Alexandra’s direction.

“Pierson, this is my brother’s daughter, Lady Alexandra. You will treat her with respect, or I shall have to ask you to personally polish every piece of glass in this house, including the windows. Do I make myself quite clear?”

Looking as if he’d just swallowed something very unpleasant, Pierson inclined his head toward Alexandra. “Please accept my sincerest apologies, Lady Alexandra. I had no idea that . . . ahem . . . may I take your cloak?”

With a crooked smile, Alexandra obliged, unclasping the heavy folds of fabric from around her neck and draping them across Pierson’s outstretched arm. “Thank you, Pierson,” she told him with a ring of amusement to her voice.

“Please have some tea brought to the parlor,” Virginia told him. Then, after a moment’s hesitation and giving Alexandra a quick once over she added, “And some sandwiches. I’m sure her ladyship must be quite famished.”

“Yes, my lady.”

As Pierson strode off with a stiff gait that belied his befuddlement, Alexandra turned toward her aunt. “Aunt V, I must apologize for disturbing you at such a late hour, but I simply couldn’t wait until morning.”

“Oh? And why is that my dear? Come, let us go to the parlor and you can tell me all about it.” Taking Alexandra by the arm, Virginia guided her toward a room that had been tastefully decorated in shades of muted greens and creams.

Alexandra spent the next half hour detailing to her aunt the particulars surrounding her relationship with Michael. “So you see, Aunt V,” she finally concluded. “I’m in desperate need of your help.”

Virginia responded with a small chuckle that eventually morphed into a warm smile. “You did the right thing in coming here, my dear. I’ll be absolutely delighted to help you as long as you promise to follow through this time. I won’t have you running off again, is that understood?”

“Perfectly,” Alexandra laughed. “As long as you promise to do your very best to help me choose a gown that will make his lordship’s eyes pop.”

“Oh,” Virginia winked. “By the time we are through, it will do much more than that, I can assure you.”

“Aunt V!” Alexandra exclaimed, feigning surprise at her aunt’s insinuation.

“Hush, dearie, and come sit next to me.” Virginia patted a spot beside her on the loveseat as she pulled a towering pile of fashion plates into her lap.

Alexandra scrutinized the pile as if it were a ten-foot high wall that she was suddenly expected to scale. “Perhaps, we ought to get some rest. It’s late and there’ll be plenty of time for this tomorrow.”

“Rest?” Virginia’s voice shrilled. “My dear girl, there’s no time for rest. Why there’s only a week until the ball. We have much too much ground to cover before then if you’re to have the desired effect. No. One cannot face a battle lying down. Your dear papa will attest to that.” She patted the space on the loveseat again. “Now come along.”

Alexandra drew a heavy sigh and armored herself with all of the patience that she possessed as she took her seat beside her aunt.

Two hours later, they’d finally made their decision. “We shall visit the
modiste
in the morning to pick out fabrics and discuss the final cut,” Virginia said, as she carefully sorted the illustrations into a series of neat piles, tying each together with a blue satin ribbon. Looking up, she eyed Alexandra carefully for a moment. “Are those the only clothes you brought?”

“No, I did bring one dress, though it may need some pressing after being rolled up in my saddlebag for the last few hours.”

“Never mind.” Virginia sounded much relieved. “One of the maids will see to that in the morning. I’m just glad I won’t have to endure walking down Bond Street with you dressed like
that
.”

Alexandra didn’t take the least bit of offense to her aunt’s comment. The woman was clearly uncomfortable by Alexandra’s unconventional selection of clothes and as comfortable as those clothes might be, she had to recognize that they weren’t for everyone. Her aunt was also a true lady in every sense of the word. She never wore as much as a single strand of hair out of place. Though she might not be above alluding to certain things that ladies weren’t supposed to even think about, as she’d clearly demonstrated earlier that evening, she certainly wasn’t about to invite unnecessary gossip of any kind.

T
he following day turned out to be more grueling and exhausting than anything else Alexandra had ever experienced before in her life. By the time they returned to Virginia’s house in the late afternoon, she was positively sure that she’d require assistance in climbing the front steps. Her aunt on the other hand practically skipped up the steps like a bright young school girl, all the while chattering about all the things they’d accomplished thus far and everything else that still needed attending to. Alexandra groaned, grabbed hold of the banister and hauled herself upward by sheer determination before staggering inside the house. There she managed a meager three steps before collapsing onto a small bench that stood in the hallway.

“Whatever is the matter?” Virginia asked as if they’d merely taken a turn about the garden rather than cover every inch of Mayfair on foot.

“I’m positively exhausted and my feet are killing me,” Alexandra gasped as she stared back at her aunt, half expecting the woman to do a pirouette or burst into song. She seemed to have more energy than a puppy.

“Not used to women’s shoes I suspect.” Virginia nodded as if she was fully aware of the difference between the comfort of men’s boots and the painful contraptions that were presently blistering Alexandra’s feet. “Not to worry, I’ll ring for some tea and ask Pierson to bring up a footbath for you.”

Fifteen minutes later, Alexandra found herself planted in a very comfortable chair, sipping tea and eating biscuits while her feet soaked in the heavenly warmth of lavender scented water.

“There’s a letter here that appears to be from your father,” Virginia announced as she leafed through a pile of correspondences that Pierson had brought her. “He says he’s taken up residence in town and that he wishes to know if he ought to be expecting you.”

Alexandra kept silent. She knew that her aunt would continue on with her own ideas on the topic at any moment and decided to wait before offering an opinion on the matter.

“I think you’re better off here for the time being,” Virginia said, folding back the letter. “That is of course if you would like to stay. I merely wish to let you know that you’re more than welcome, and with everything still left to be done, it would be so much easier than traipsing back and forth between here and Grosvenor Square every day.”

“It’s just around the corner,” Alexandra pointed out with a hint of a smile.

“Yes, I suppose it is, but—”

“Aunt V, I’d be happy to stay if Uncle Henry doesn’t mind.”

“Uncle Henry?” Virginia brushed the name aside as if she hadn’t the faintest idea who that name belonged to. A bright smile shone upon her face. “What on earth does he have to say about the matter? You are my niece, and I have just invited you.”

From that moment on, every waking hour of Alexandra’s days turned into a frantic frenzy—a race against time, so to speak. People hurried in and out of the house—seamstresses, dance instructors, cobblers, maids, and milliners, all united in the common goal of turning a duckling into a swan.

T
wo days before the ball, Alexandra’s gown arrived for the final fitting. It was made from the finest white Indian muslin, beautifully embroidered with little white flowers that flowed in a wide panel from the bustline to the hem. The fashionably low neckline was underlined by a wide satin ribbon that tied at the back in a voluminous bow and the sleeves puffed airily just below the shoulders. Over this, Alexandra intended to wear a robe of cream Egyptian silk that, since it did not close and was held together only with a ribbon, was designed to reveal the gown beneath. “Well?” Alexandra asked her aunt as she turned back and forth before the full length mirror. “What do you think?”

Virginia studied her niece for a few moments while Alexandra did her best to keep her enthusiasm under some measure of control. She knew that this was the sort of gown to draw attention and she wasn’t too modest to recognize that she filled it out very nicely. “I think it suits you remarkably well,” Virginia said. “But I also think we ought to lower the neckline.”

“But it’s already rather low . . .”

“Yes, but if you have the courage for it, I’d recommend removing another . . . shall we say quarter of an inch?”

“But my breasts will be practically spilling over the edge of it if we do that. I won’t even dare breathe!”

“My dear,” Virginia said quite seriously. “You’re about to make your debut. You’re no young miss anymore, so you’ll want to make a dramatic statement. There’s no harm in turning a few heads.”

“Papa will most likely be horrified and my brothers . . .” Alexandra suddenly grinned. “When we were in Paris, we attended a ball at the Tuileries Palace. Ryan intended to keep me covered up all night and that dress was far less risqué than what you’re proposing here.”

“Take my advice, Alexandra. The man you desire will be there on Saturday. Let’s get his heart pumping a little shall we?”

“Very well,” Alexandra agreed with an impish smile.

“Wonderful!” Virginia clapped her hands together with glee. “And as for jewelry . . . I have just the thing.” Crossing to a nearby table she picked up a velvet box and snapped open the lid. “These were your grandmothers. I think they’ll add the perfect finishing touch.”

“Oh, Aunt V!” Alexandra stared down at the pearl necklace and matching pearl drop earrings. “Thank you. Thank you so much. Yes, I think they’ll be absolutely perfect.”

“Good. Now let’s get you out of this dress so the seamstresses can get back to work on it, and then we’ll have some lunch while we talk about your hair. I have quite a few ideas on how we might best tame those curls without removing from the natural beauty they offer.”

Alexandra grinned as she shook her head in surrender. “Of course, you do, Aunt V, I wouldn’t have dared think otherwise.”