The Lorimer Legacy (6 page)

‘Thank you, my dear,' she said. ‘If this is to be the first step in a great career, I feel privileged to have been present at it. I wish you every success.'

There was an immediate feeling of rapport – almost affection – between the two women. Alexa was warmed by it as she returned to the piano and her sympathy must have been obvious, for Mr Glanville showed no impatience at the interruption.

‘My sister-in-law suffers from a muscular disease,' he said. ‘She is in constant pain, which she can relieve only
in hot baths and poultices. My brother leaves with her tomorrow for Baden-Baden, so that she may take the cure again. Now then, let us continue. Mr Lorimer was not deceived. You have a good voice. I would like to explore its range.'

By now Alexa's confidence had returned. She had been so painstaking in her exercises over the years that she found no difficulty in singing the scale from each chord he played. When he stood up during the last of them and put his hand lightly round the front of her throat she was disconcerted – but continued to sing in order that he might feel the movement of her larynx, if that was what he wanted.

His next move was very much more disturbing. He asked her to sing a series of notes, starting softly and making a gradual crescendo, prolonging each note for as long as her breath allowed. As she did so he came to stand behind her, very much closer than Alexa liked, and put his arms round her waist, pressing the palms of both hands against her diaphragm.

She did her best to conceal her uneasiness. He was testing her breath control. It was a legitimate touch for a music teacher. She had seen her own mother do it to the little girls she taught, helping to show them how they should breathe. But her mother was not a man; and this man was not a music teacher.

He had the right to know whether she deserved his interest, she told herself. It need never happen again. And although he was not a teacher, he had conducted the audition in a reassuringly professional way. Alexa sustained each note as he had instructed, and tried not to notice that his thumbs were touching her breasts.

At last the ordeal was over. For a second time he looked her up and down. ‘I think something could be made of you,' he said. ‘I hope you're not stupid enough
to think that you can walk straight into an opera company. The training for a singer is long.'

‘How long, sir?' asked Alexa.

‘The best singers take six years.' He showed his amusement at the dismay on her face. ‘And by then you think you will be old. and ugly, with the best years of your life wasted! Well, if you work hard, three years may be enough. We will wait until the travellers have departed tomorrow morning, with all the fuss that will involve. Then I will arrange for a teacher and discuss a course of study for you. For tonight, I will have a meal sent up to your room.'

‘You are so kind, Mr Glanville. I don't quite understand – I would like to say how grateful I am.'

From what she had been told, she half expected him to reply with some reference to his love of music, but instead he smiled in a manner which she found unpleasant.

‘Good,' he said. ‘I feed on gratitude. I shall expect to be succoured by regular offerings of it.' He dismissed her with a nod, leaving her to make her way back to her bedroom.

As he had promised, a tray was brought to the room. When she had eaten the lonely meal she went to bed, exhausted by a day of travel and anxiety. For a long time she lay with her eyes open in the darkness, trying to make sense of all that had happened and to see, if only a little way, into the future.

The past was something she must try to forget. Throughout the previous night she had lain awake, weeping, hurt and unhappy. That Matthew should have deserted her at all was almost impossible to believe; that he should have gone without a word of farewell had, in the end, caused her misery to be replaced by anger. She would take good care never again to give her love so easily. But no one should ever know how deeply she had
been hurt. She would show Matthew how little she cared for his desertion by becoming rich and famous. For a little while longer she would need to live as a dependant; but once her training was over she would make a great career for herself. How fortunate it was, she tried to persuade herself, that she had not after all been diverted from her ambitious plans into a life of domestic dullness.

As unexpected as Matthew's departure was his father's helpfulness. Almost against reasonable expectation William Lorimer had kept his promise. He had introduced her to someone who – in an equally unlikely manner – was apparently prepared to help her realize her ambitions. But how much could Mr Glanville be expected to do for a stranger? To provide her with board and lodging might cost him little. To arrange a musical training might gratify his pride. But did he realize, she wondered, that she had no resources of her own at all? She had brought with her – since she planned to return directly to Elm Lodge the next day – all the clothes which she had taken to Bristol, and the single valise contained all that she owned. Her two new dresses would be shabby long before the course of training was completed. Already she needed a new pair of shoes, since the money Margaret had sent to Sophie had not been enough to provide this. Would she be entitled to go to Mr Glanville for clothes and pin money? And if not, what was she to do? To ask Margaret for an allowance was out of the question. Every penny that came into Elm Lodge was needed to balance a tight budget.

This problem brought Alexa to another difficult question. Would she be able to persuade her guardian to give permission for the whole ambitious undertaking? Yes, it must be possible. Margaret herself had been ambitious as a young woman and had seized her chance to take a training and make a career for herself. She would feel at
least a little sympathy for Alexa's hopes. Her doubts had always been about the threat which a theatrical life posed to the good reputation of any young woman. There could be no objection, surely, to this preliminary arrangement, made by her own brother with a family of such undoubted respectability as the Glanvilles. Alexa's anxiety on this score was not too great. The financial problems loomed larger in her mind than the social or moral ones – of which, indeed, she was hardly aware.

She was still lying awake, wondering how far Mr Glanville's generosity was likely to extend, and how far she could ever recompense him, when the question answered itself. She heard footsteps approaching along the corridor. They came to a halt, and the door of her bedroom opened.

When one unexpected event after another in the course of a single day has turned out to be for the best, even a disquieting occurrence may briefly seem capable of bearing a favourable interpretation. There was nothing stealthy about the opening of Alexa's bedroom door, and nothing furtive about the movements of her patron as he came into the room. Alexa was naturally alarmed; but for a second she managed to persuade herself that he had arrived only as a polite host to make sure that she was comfortable, perhaps not expecting her to have retired to bed so early. The reassurance vanished as he closed the door behind him and put the lamp he carried down on her bedside table. Earlier in the evening she had found his smile unpleasant. Now it terrified her. She pulled the sheet up to her chin.

‘What are you doing here, sir?'

‘Did you think the audition was over?' Mr Glanville enquired. Her eyes, wide with alarm, must have shown him the answer. ‘I take it this was something that Mr Lorimer forgot to mention.'

The thought obviously increased his amusement. He sat down on the edge of the bed. Alexa scrambled out of it on the other side and waited, breathless with fear, to see how she could get past him to the only door of the room.

‘Don't be stupid,' he said. ‘A couple of hours ago you were willing enough to accept favours. Did you expect them all to come free? it's time you grew up. There's a price to be paid for everything, my dear. In this case, I flatter myself that you will find the price as acceptable as the career you are buying with it. I shall keep my side of the bargain. It is hardly too much to ask that it should provide me with as much satisfaction as you.'

‘There is no bargain,' said Alexa. ‘Yes, I have been stupid. I was told you were a gentleman. I thought–'

The smile faded from his face and anger made him ugly as he stood up and strode towards her. Alexa flung herself across the bed in an effort to reach the door. He caught her by one foot and she kicked him with the other, hard enough to send him staggering off balance backwards. Sobbing and slithering she flung the door open and rushed out into the corridor, charging head-first into Lord Glanville.

She clung to him in relief, still sobbing as she buried her head in his chest. But even now she could not feel safe. The two men were brothers. They might be in league – or at least not prepared to quarrel over a stranger. The silence seemed to last a long time; but Alexa dared not look up, in case she should see the same smile on Lord Glanville's face as on his younger brother's.
Certainly his voice, when at last he spoke, was light and apparently uncritical.

‘My dear Duncan, you don't usually need to press your attentions on young women by force. One has been led to believe that as a rule they fling themselves at your feet.'

‘This one's a fool. Says she didn't realize –'

‘And perhaps she didn't.' There was a new edge of harshness to Lord Glanville's aristocratic drawl. He still spoke pleasantly enough, but definitely.

‘Don't worry. I can persuade her.'

‘No doubt you can, dear boy,' agreed Lord Glanville. ‘But not tonight.'

‘I could say that it's none of your damn business,' protested his brother.

‘And I could say that while Miss Lorimer is a guest in this house I am responsible for her. Goodnight, Duncan.'

The answering goodnight was sulky, but not accompanied by any further protest. Alexa, who had held her breath during this exchange, began to cry again, gulping for air but still clinging tightly to her protector. He released her grip gently and led her back into her bedroom. As she sat down on the side of the bed, he leaned back against the door, looking down at her from his great height.

‘One can only assume that there must have been some misunderstanding,' he said. ‘You can go back to bed now. You will be safe enough tonight.'

‘And tomorrow?' asked Alexa. She was still trembling with the panic she had felt as Lord Glanville's brother had grabbed at her.

‘My brother has not favoured me with details of the arrangement under which you came here,' said Lord Glanville. ‘If you wish to end it and return home, the servants will be instructed to see that you are safely set
on your way. My Wife and I will be leaving for the Continent early in the morning, so we cannot help you personally.' He took out his purse. ‘You have come from Bristol, I understand. Have you enough money for the return journey?'

Alexa's tears began to flow again. In her frightened state, Lord Glanville appeared as the only protector she could trust, and the thought that he was about to leave increased her feeling of helplessness. ‘I cannot go back to Bristol!' she exclaimed.

‘Who sent you here?' asked Lord Glanville. ‘My brother mentioned a Mr Lorimer.'

‘Yes, he sent me. He was supposed to look after me, but he sent me here. And he knew, he must have known, what was going to happen. It's unthinkable that I should return there.' Even at the time Alexa – well aware that William Lorimer had never particularly liked her – had felt surprised that he should be so helpful. It was easy for her now to assume that everything which had happened was part of a deliberate plot.

Lord Glanville put his money back in his pocket and came right into the room to sit in an arm-chair. He stared at her with a serious expression on his face.

‘I take it that Mr Lorimer is not your father, then,' he commented.

‘No, my lord. My father died when I was a baby, and my mother a few years later. I was adopted into the Lorimer family. But Mr Lorimer is no relation of mine at all, and I never want to see him again.'

‘Where else could you go, then, if you are unwilling to return to your guardian?'

Lord Glanville's natural enough mistake in assuming that William Lorimer was her guardian was hardly noticed by Alexa. There was an answer to his question, and she would have to give it – because of course she could go
back to Margaret, who was expecting her return, although not at any precise moment.

And that, Alexa realized, would be the end of all her dreams. Only an hour earlier she had imagined herself persuading her guardian that an opera singer could live a life untouched by scandal, whether rumoured or real. She would have described herself as the protégée of a family which was above reproach. How could she honestly do that now? And if she told the truth, Margaret could hardly be expected not to point out that the incident confirmed all her previous warnings about the immorality of a stage career. There would never be another chance.

The disappointment of knowing her hopes to be dashed so soon after they had been raised caused Alexa to let out a groan of anguish.

‘I want so much to be a singer!' she cried, with all the passion of her unhappiness. ‘But I'm only eighteen, and I don't know what I should do. There's no one to help me. Except your brother; but I've been brought up to believe that what he expects of me is wrong.'

‘You are quite right to think so, and your attitude does you credit. No, don't start crying again.'

He was too late. Alexa was no longer frightened, but she wept from self-pity – for the collapse of her hopes, the defeat of her ambitions, the loss of her lover, the dismal future which lay ahead. Lord Glanville stood up again.

‘Wait a moment,' he said. ‘Someone had better prepare you a hot drink. It will help you settle to sleep.'

He was gone longer than the giving of an order would have necessitated – so long, in fact, that Alexa began to feel she had been abandoned. Desperately she searched her mind for some alternative to the dullness of a country life, some plan which would meet Margaret's standards of respectability.