Lady Alex's Gamble (25 page)
She leapt out of bed and hurried to the washstand, eager to put all upsetting thoughts and fears of the previous night behind her. Then, recalling at least one of her concerns from the evening before, she dug into the trunk, pulled out her serviceable gray bombazine carriage dress, and gave it several hearty shakes before gently and carefully laying it back on top of her things. Her bonnet, equally practical and uninspiring, was also extracted.
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Lady Alex's Gamble
by Evelyn Richardson
Having had to dispense with a bandbox in order to maintain her disguise, Alex had selected the smallest and least prepossessing item of headgear she owned, which she now surveyed with intense dissatisfaction. Just for a moment she wished she could look forward to donning the elegant white satin carriage dress that she had admired as they had ridden in Hyde Park not so long ago; it had sported a matching pelisse of white twilled sarcenet complemented by an exquisite white satin hat with pomona green plumes. Although it was quite unlike Alex to notice such a thing, its wearer had been so lovely with her pink-and-white complexion, retroussé nose, and glossy dark curls dancing under the brim of her bonnet that everyone, even the major, had been unable to tear their eyes from her. Silly goose, Alex muttered fiercely to herself as she struggled to banish such treacherous and unfamiliar thoughts from her mind. You know that it is a great deal more fun, and certainly more comfortable to ride astride a horse in breeches, to feel free to walk into whatever establishment you please without the least thought of whether it is proper, than it is to ride tamely in the park in a barouche accompanied by some ape-leader as a companion. Closing her trunk, she hastily finished dressing and hurried downstairs to the taproom where Wrotham was already digging into an enormous rasher of ham and eggs. The welcoming smile on his face when he looked up and saw Alex was enough to banish even the worst fit of the dismals and she felt her ill humor vanishing magically as she took her place in the chair Christopher indicated.
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Casting a cautious eye around the room, the major spoke softly, "As the crowd is a good deal more quiet at this hour then it was yesterday evening, I felt no qualms about having our breakfast here. I even took the liberty of ordering for you. It is a good deal more expedient and I know you are anxious to reach Halewood as soon as possible."
"Yes. Thank you." Alex took the plate of eggs that he had served her from the platter next to him. However, nothing could have been further from the truth. Suddenly, she wished Halewood—with its daily cares and deadly dull routine—were a million miles away. Despite her best efforts to keep her mind alive with books and journals, she knew her spirit had little room to grow there. She wanted to go on forever seeing new things, sharing them with someone who looked at the world as she did and asked the same questions of it. However, being Alex, she resolved to make the most of what she had and, smiling gratefully at the major, she ate her breakfast, paid her shot, and went to see the horses put to as quickly and as efficiently as if she did not wish to prolong every possible minute of their journey.
It was another glorious day, and for the most part, they rode silently, enjoying the rich green fields dotted here and there with fruit trees just coming into blossom, the soft fresh morning air broken only by the burst of song from some bird intent on attracting a mate.
All too soon they reached Coltishall, where Alex would do her best to reassemble herself as Lady Alexandra de Montmorency and where it was agreed that Christopher would stay the night while she drove on to Halewood. 235
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Once again Alex had tried to dissuade the major from escorting her the entire way. After all, what could possibly befall her within a few miles of her home, but much to her relief, he would have none of it.
"No. I shall not rest easy until I have seen you restored to your brothers and sisters and am assured that everything concerning the debt has been settled to your satisfaction," he had replied firmly. There had been a look in his eye that brooked no argument and that augured ill for anyone who threatened to overset the ultimate success of Alex's escapade. In fact, Alex could not recall when she had ever seen the major looking so severe. With a tiny shock, she realized that if indeed complications did arise, he was bound and determined to eliminate them for her. It was a novel idea and so too was the feeling of happiness that flooded through her at the thought of it.
Christopher even insisted on mounting guard while Ned drove the coach into a thick copse and Alex, with the shades on the coach windows open only a crack to allow enough light for her to see, struggled into her dress, fumbling with the fastenings as best she could. Lord the skirts felt cumbersome after the freedom of breeches! Finally, having smoothed her hair as much as possible, and feeling about to make sure she had left nothing undone, she firmly grasped the handle, opened the door, and jumped down.
At the edge of the trees the major sat quietly on Brutus, staring off into the distance until the swish of skirts on the grass made him look around. She was much smaller, more delicate than he had realized as she stood there in a soft gray 236
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dress that made her copper curls glow redder than ever. Without the padding on her shoulders she looked so slender and her bosom, released from its confining bands and now gently rounded, emphasized the slimness of her waist and hips. How could he ever, even for one minute, have thought that Alex de Montmorency was a man?
She drew closer, glancing up at him shyly, uneasily, the green eyes huge and anxious in her face. Christopher cast about desperately for something to say to relieve the awkwardness of the moment, to reassure her and to reassure himself. "I imagine that Trajan will rue this transformation even more than you do, seeing that an existence as a lady's mount will be confining to him. Knowing you, though, I feel certain you still occasionally throw caution to the winds and ride at the same breakneck speed that gave me such a run for my money yesterday."
The impish grin reappeared and with it, the twinkle in her eyes. Once again she was his same old Alex.
"Occasionally,
I fear, is not the word. Riding at
breakneck speed
as you call it, is a necessity for me or I should go mad." The major cocked a quizzical eyebrow.
"Well, you try wearing skirts and cajoling servants and children all day," Alex retorted huffily, "and see if you are not a candidate for Bedlam in no short space of time."
"The skirts I give you," he conceded, "but as to cajoling children, you forget where I have been spending my time recently, though I am sure that the members of our illustrious governing body would quite fail to see it that way. But come, let me escort you to your carriage. Undoubtedly the servants 237
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and children are waiting eagerly for you to cajole them again."
The major leapt down and taking Brutus's reins in one hand, offered her his other arm. Again he was struck by her grace and slenderness. Alex was tall for a woman, her head reaching well above his shoulder, and he was a man of considerable height. That, however, in no way detracted from her essential femininity. Staring down at her, he wondered all over again how he could have been so taken in by her deception.
As if reading his thoughts, Alex replied, "I am not all that stupid, you know. I realized that in order to be Alexander I had to do more than don his clothes. I aped his walk, his way of holding his arms—oh, a thousand little things." Seeing that he remained unconvinced Alex withdrew her hand from his arm and swaggered forward, the Earl of Halewood once more. The effect was so comical that Christopher laughed until tears streamed from his eyes. Wiping them away with his sleeve, he gasped, "No, you are not in the least bit stupid, but I swear you will be the death of me." He caught up to her and offered her his arm again. She accepted it, but not without a grimace. "No, do not pull such a long face at me, my girl," he admonished her. "The charade is not yet over, nor will it be unless you can behave something like a lady again and, much as you dislike it, the sooner you begin practicing at it, the better." And so, teasing and laughing, each trying to put the impending separation out of mind, they reached Alex's carriage.
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"Take care of yourself. I trust you will not discover anything too disturbing when you arrive." The major handed her into the coach and then, leaning in through the open doorway, he added softly, "And remember, I shall be there tomorrow." He closed the door, flung himself on Brutus, and with a wave, was off, leaving Alex alone with her thoughts as the carriage made its way sedately toward Halewood.
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Christopher had not been far wrong in his guess; Alex's return had been eagerly awaited by those remaining at Halewood. Every day since they had received the letter announcing her return, Andrew had pestered Ally to hazard a guess as to when they could reasonably expect their older sister's arrival. At last, even the ever-patient Althea was exasperated with him. "You are a clever boy, Andrew—you figure it out. If it takes two days for Ned to get to London and an equal time to get back, and it takes time to pack and for the horses to rest, you tell me."
"Tell me, tell me," Abigail had chanted and Andrew, feeling that it was now incumbent upon him to predict his sister's return, found ways to pass by the windows overlooking the drive at least several times a day. Thus it was that the carriage was still the merest speck entering the gates of the long gravel drive when he raced into the schoolroom where Althea was overseeing Abigail's clumsy attempts at sewing, shouting, "She's here! She's here!" As little enamored of feminine pursuits as her eldest sister, Abigail hastily dropped the miserable tangle of embroidery cotton and linen and scrambled after her brother. Sighing gently and shaking her head over her sister's cavalier disregard for such things, Althea laid down her own exquisitely executed needlework and headed downstairs to welcome Alex.
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By the time she reached the front hall, quite a crowd had already assembled. The servants, headed by Jamison, the butler, and Mrs. Throckmorton, were quite as eager for Alex's return as her family was. Despite the careful collusion of the housekeeper, the butler, the coachman, and Bessie, the entire household had somehow come by the notion that Lady Alexandra's absence had a great deal to do with the future of all of them and, though it was generally believed that she had gone to visit relatives in Brighton in order to seek relief from pecuniary difficulties, they anxiously awaited news of the success of her mission. It had not occurred to anyone to doubt that she would return with the solution to their problems, but still they were glad to have her back to reassure them that their lives would continue along in the same comfortable pattern that they always had. Seeing them all gathered under the gray stone portico, eagerly awaiting her arrival, went a long way to assuaging some of the sense of loss that Alex had felt at her parting from the major. In truth, she had missed everyone at Halewood, and after the noise and dirt of London she did feel a certain sense of peace and security wash over as she gazed over the rich green fields on either side of the drive, and stared at the lovely facade of her home, its bricks glowing warm and red and the diamond panes twinkling in the slanting rays of the afternoon sun.
"Alex, Alex, I jumped the hedge by the Hanger Wood!" Andrew, unable to contain himself any longer, ran down the steps to greet her.
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Not to be outdone, Abigail hurried closely behind, bursting with news of her own equestrian progress. Following at a more sedate pace, Althea smiled at her sister over the children's heads, murmuring, "One would think they had not done any lessons at all, but I assure you they have."
"Oh, Alex, have you brought us something?" Spying some interesting and unfamiliar packages in the carriage, Andrew could not restrain himself.
Alex laughed. "Yes, you dreadful child, but I am not entirely certain that you deserve them. Does he. Ally?" Andrew and Abigail held their breaths, hoping that their older sister would forget about the muddied frocks, the broken window, and the tarts stolen still warm from the kitchen.
Surveying their anxious faces. Ally was silent for a moment, her eyes bright with mischief. "Well..." She hesitated until she thought Andrew would burst from the suspense. "I think they deserve a
little
something. They have been quite diligent in their schoolwork." Heaving enormous sighs of relief, the two children clustered around Alex as she reached inside for two delightfully wrapped parcels.
"And I have something for you as well. Ally, only you must not let anyone see where it came from. Thank you so much for all you have done." She handed a striped bandbox to her sister who, upon seeing the name of the shop emblazoned across its lid, gasped and turned quite pale with excitement
"Oh, Alex, Madame Celeste! It must have been shockingly dear!"
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"And only a small fraction of what you deserve for taking charge of all this." Alex smiled at her sister's surprise and delight. "But on to more serious matters. What of Alexander?
Is he alive? I assume you would have written of any changes."
"Only just," Althea responded soberly. "Doctor Padgett and Bessie have worked miracles, but he cannot continue for much longer. First come in and refresh yourself after the journey and then you may visit him."
