Читать книгу Surrender To Love - Rosemary Rogers - Страница 14

Smile, Alexa, smile! And try to be, at least on the surface, exactly what they expect you to be—want you to be. An arresting face and a passable figure, with nothing behind the face to think or question. Don’t, by all means, forget to show that dimple of yours men think so enchanting, and don’t forget to flatter them—lords of the universe! Above all, never be foolish or daring enough to forget that you are, after all, only a poor silly, helpless, dependent female. Belonging to your father until you are fortunate enough to find a man who wants to marry you—and the property of your husband after that, like your fortune, should you possess one. For women were not supposed to have the brains to handle money, of course, and needed a strong, dictatorial male in their lives to guide and instruct them in every way! And once a woman passed from her papa’s keeping into her husband’s, she belonged to him in the same way as his horse or his favorite hound or any of his other possessions.

Disgusting. The mere thought was degrading! Alexa’s teeth gritted for an instant under the cover of her bright smile and interested look. But—even if she could not change laws and customs, she reminded herself that she had been trained to think; and that gave her an advantage. Did the secret of the few powerful, successful women she had read about lie in finding a weak man? Alexa pondered that for a moment and then decided to let it be for now, although she meant to find out eventually. Aunt Harriet was right—she tended to be far too precipitate at times, a fault she must learn to beware of and curb. One step at a time—until she had had sufficient opportunity to study the people she met and could determine how best to deal with them. That was the best and the safest way to proceed.

“Miss Howard—excuse me, sir—but I believe this is our dance?”

“Oh, but of course it is. The second waltz. I had not really forgotten, of course, but Mr. Sutherland’s account of his wonderfully interesting duties as aide to the Governor had me so fascinated that I did not even hear the musicians strike up, I’m afraid.”

Alexa had managed to keep Lord Charles at her side for the past few minutes by explaining apologetically that Mr. Sutherland had been so kind and gallant—forgoing the dance she had promised to him in order to fetch her a glass of punch to assuage her thirst—but the glance she had given him from under quickly lowered lashes while she played with her small ivory fan was enough to make Lord Charles think that she would much rather have been engaged in conversation with him, although sheer politeness forced her to pretend to listen to the pompous and boring Mr. Sutherland. While Mr. Sutherland, on the other hand, felt that the interest Miss Howard had shown in his conversation, in spite of the fact that she had a Viscount standing behind her chair in attendance, was a sure indication of which gentleman she really preferred. Of course she had turned her head away occasionally to engage in some polite exchange of words with Lord Charles, but that only proved that she was mannerly as well as being well-bred. As Alexa left on Lord Charles’s arm to join the dancers after a softly murmured apology to him, Mr. Sutherland gazed after her with a fatuous smile that made Harriet want to snort explosively again as she thought what arrant fools men could be.

Viscount Deering wore a rather rueful smile as he looked down at his partner. “What a soft heart you have, to be sure! But I must confess that even I had to feel sorry for the poor, pompous young man.”

“Yes, he is really very young, isn’t he? Just a few years older than my younger brother, Frederick. I daresay poor Mr. Sutherland must miss his home and his mother.”

“Well, I beg that you will not think about him any longer or my feelings will be quite crushed! Do you know, Miss Howard, that I have been counting every minute until this moment?”

“I think you’re flirting with me, Lord Charles.”

“I suppose I must confess that I was trying to. Do you mind very much?”

“No—I don’t think so, really. Especially since you have been so honest about it. I wish…” She hesitated, but Charles, quite charmed, prompted her gently.

“And what is it that you wish, Miss Howard?”

“Well, to tell the truth—and I don’t quite know why I should be saying this to you when we have only just met—I have often wished that people could always be honest and straightforward in their dealings with each other. Haven’t you?”

Her unexpected question had taken him by surprise, and Lord Charles in his turn hesitated a few moments before he answered it.

“I suppose…Yes, to be truthful, I too have often wished that such a thing could be so. But since we live in a world with other people who do not think the same way and might mistake honesty for weakness or mere stupidity —what is one to do? But we are being far too serious, I think! Please, I wish that you would tell me more about yourself, Miss Howard. Where your home is; the things you enjoy doing…”

“I am afraid I have led a very sheltered life here in Ceylon, and I have never traveled abroad in all my life. But surely Mrs. Mackenzie must have told you everything she knows about me and about my background already? I’m afraid that a dull account of a very quiet life on a coffee plantation in a remote province far removed from Colombo can hardly interest you; especially since your life must be so different and so exciting in comparison. Have you traveled a great deal and had all kinds of strange adventures? Does life here seem very slow and backward to you in comparison to life in England and Europe? Oh—I do hope you don’t mind my asking so many questions?”

Lord Charles, who was considered quite an eligible catch by London’s matchmaking mamas and had been glad of an excuse to flee from them for a while, found himself frankly intrigued by this exceptional young woman who swung so lightly in his arms. Exceptional—yes, she was that, and more. A treasure he would never have expected to find here in this small crown colony of all places. Different—with a certain air of poised self-assurance that was lacking in most young women of her age and protected background. And spirited too; he had already sensed that under the ladylike exterior. He had owned a little mare once, whose glossy coat reminded him of Miss Alexandra Howard’s hair. All docility and sugar-and-spice until, if her rider wasn’t careful enough to keep a firm rein, she might suddenly decide she wanted her head. The resemblance was there too in the way this young woman held her head; in her slate-dark gypsy eyes, and the very slight flare of her delicately formed nostrils. She was a rare find indeed, and a real prize for any man lucky enough to take her before anyone else did—and tame her.

Lord Charles masked his thoughts with an engaging grin as he said: “What man could possibly mind talking about himself? Although I must warn you that once you get me started you might have to promise me the dance after this one and a few more afterwards as well—unless I succeed in boring you too quickly! And as for exciting adventures, I find myself forced to admit that I have not been fortunate enough yet…If you are really interested in hearing tales of that kind, you should ask my newly-discovered and very distant cousin whom I had traveled all the way to the North American continent to find, and finally did so in one of the former Spanish colonies there. I believe, though, they broke away from Spain and transferred their allegiance to Mexico several years ago. Am I confusing you?”

“No, at least not yet!” Alexa said with a shake of her head and a dimpled smile. “But you have succeeded in fascinating me, for I have always longed to find out more about the Americas.”

“Well then…on condition that you promise to interrupt me as soon as I begin to bore you…” Lord Charles continued in the same light tone he had adopted earlier. “I hardly know where to begin, without sounding like a geography tutor, you know. But this ex-province of Spain is called California, and I found the style of living there different from anything I have experienced in Europe—or anywhere else, for that matter. It is a mixture of wildness and freedom and feudalism—a huge, vast land that has hardly been mapped yet; where the great landowners think nothing of owning hundreds and thousands of acres; can you imagine that? My cousin’s father was a sea captain from Boston in the United States of America who happened to anchor in one of the California ports to trade for hides and tallow. There he met a pretty Spanish girl of gentle birth—an heiress, I believe—whose family was and still is ranked among the richest and most influential in that part of the world. Why, I was feted and entertained there in the most lavish and generous style imaginable! It’s a lush and promising land with all the extremes of climate you could possibly imagine, from snow-capped mountains to burning desert and ocean. In fact, I might have been tempted to stay there myself except that there are also great, furious bears that stand tall enough to dwarf a man, and predatory mountain lions—not to mention fierce Indian tribes. Not being the kind to thrive on danger and adventure like my cousin, I must confess that I decided to settle for Europe and the tameness of civilization instead; and the only adventures I can relate, therefore, are secondhand. I hope I have not made you despise me!”

“Of course not!” Alexa responded quickly. She flashed him a smile before saying lightly: “I daresay adventures are all very well to read about and hear about, but to actually live in constant peril must be a very different thing and not what one could call exciting at all. I hope this distant cousin of yours lives in a safe part of California, for his sake.”

“Oh, I managed to persuade Nicholas to come to England with me, and you’ll meet him later on, I’m sure. He’s taking a promenade with the Governor and is involved in some deep discussion with him. But I should warn you, I suppose, that he is not an easy man to understand! He is somewhat of a cynic, and has a rather abrupt manner, besides being completely indifferent to what anyone may think of him. In fact, I can hardly wait to see what London society makes of him!” Lord Charles gave a rather boyish chuckle before continuing: “What a great lark that should be! Although you must not think he is some half-civilized colonial from my rather forbidding description, Miss Howard. Nicholas can adopt a polished air when he chooses to, and he has traveled in Europe before. But when we were in London together this time…” Lord Charles broke off suddenly, realizing he had monopolized the entire conversation, and that the dance was almost over, before he could ask Miss Howard if she would be his partner for the light buffet supper that would be served later. “I say, I really am sorry for going on and on,” he exclaimed ruefully, and shook his head at Alexa with a smile. “It must be your fault, Miss Howard, for being such a good listener.”

Miss Alexandra Howard, who, he learned, preferred to be called “Alexa” by her friends, had begun to interest Lord Charles more and more as the evening progressed. According to his mother’s friend Mrs. Mackenzie, she was accounted an excellent shot and an accomplished horsewoman; and actually enjoyed reading books, in addition to being fluent in at least five languages. And yet, she was certainly no bluestocking either. So far, he had not managed to discover any flaws in her—a fact surprising in itself, the Viscount (who considered himself quite blasé when it came to women) could not help thinking.

Lord Charles did not have to pretend that he was delighted when Miss Howard accepted his escort for the brief intermission, during which a cold supper was served for the benefit of those who wished to avail themselves of the enormous variety of dishes arranged on long, damask-covered tables that had been set up against one wall. All the more so because he saw an opportunity at last to remove her from under the eagle eye of that forbidding-looking aunt of hers, and from the assiduous attentions of all the other men who flocked about her.

Small groupings of tables and chairs had been arranged on one of the wide, covered galleries that overlooked the lush gardens, with pretty colored lanterns hung everywhere to add to the beauty of the warm, perfumed night and create an atmosphere of intimacy as well. Softly treading servants dressed in the scarlet and white livery of Queen’s House carried silver trays bearing tall-stemmed glasses filled with chilled champagne and white wine among the throng of guests, and it seemed as though no sooner was a glass drained than another was being proffered by one of the ever-present servants. Alexa had been allowed to drink an occasional glass of wine or dry sherry at home after she had passed her sixteenth birthday, but she had never taken a drink in public before, and now she wondered—did she dare? She had inspected the buffet because she thought Lord Charles, having missed dinner, might be hungry; but although the thought of food did not tempt her in the least, Alexa could not help looking quite longingly at the sparkling glasses of champagne that were constantly being offered to her. What if she were to take one?

As if he had read her thoughts Lord Charles said suddenly: “Have you ever tried champagne, Miss Howard? No? But then of course you must—especially on the occasion of your eighteenth birthday.” Without waiting for a reply he took two glasses off one of the trays, his eyes twinkling down at Alexa as he lowered his voice to say: “And if you are worried that you might not be approved of, allow me to tell you that ladies in the very highest social circles in London—and all over Europe, for that matter—sip the bubbly, as it is called; and it is quite acceptable. You could say, if you were questioned, that you could not refuse to respond to the toast I proposed without appearing rude, couldn’t you?” And then, teasingly, “Well, are you game? Please say you are.”

Accepting the glass he handed her, Alexa could not help but laugh at the rather audacious way he had teased her into it. “And the toast, Lord Charles? Just in case I am asked?”

“The only toast that no loyal British subject could refuse, naturally. To the Queen—and her forthcoming marriage!”

A lady could not drain her glass off in one swallow, but she could take rather large sips once she had begun to acquire a taste for champagne, couldn’t she?

“Do you think you like champagne?” Lord Charles had prompted after Alexa had taken a few sips of that first glass.

“I like its dryness! I remember reading one of Papa’s books once that was all about wines and different vintages and where the best wines come from. It’s the effervescence—all those little bubbles—that take getting used to at first, I suppose; although I daresay that with enough practice one would no longer notice.”

By the time she had drained a second glass of champagne and found herself holding a third, Alexa wondered, with a sudden return to caution, how Lord Charles had managed to maneuver her out through the French doors and onto the gallery. She must be careful or she would spoil everything, and Aunt Harriet would be disgusted with her.

Alexa had turned to place her back against the polished wooden railing, and in her white and gold ball gown she seemed to be framed by the pattern of trees and lawns and a dark night sky studded with a profusion of glittering stars. How much Lord Charles wanted to seize her in his arms and kiss her, knowing that of course he did not dare try to do so, at least not yet. He must be careful not to startle her or scare her off; and there was that aunt of hers to be reckoned with as well.

There was an unaccustomed stammer in his voice when Lord Charles said: “There is a slight possibility…Miss Howard, I am very much aware of the fact that we have only known each other a few hours, and I am only too well aware of manners and convention, believe me. But I have so enjoyed conversing with you and, well, what I mean to say is that if our ship should happen to be delayed in Colombo for a few days, I would deem it an honor to be permitted to call on you. You did mention that you would be staying with Sir John Travers at his residence here, did you not? I would naturally request his permission first, and your aunt’s as well; but if you would have no objections to our meeting again, I would like that above all things!”

“At least you had enough sense to come back inside before your absence could be remarked upon. It would never do, my girl, to let yourself become conspicuous!”

Harriet, fanning herself vigorously, had given Alexa a very thorough scrutiny when she had returned to sit demurely at her aunt’s side again while the young Viscount took himself off to procure her a dish of fresh fruit and cream. At least, Harriet had thought then, she did not look as if she had been kissed; and her ball gown still looked uncrumpled and had no stains from food or drink upon it. She grumbled. “But what on earth made you suddenly decide you were hungry at this late stage in the evening, just when the dancing is about to begin again?”

Alexa gave Harriet a mischievous smile. “Two and a half glasses of champagne, I’m afraid! I really do not feel at all hungry after that enormous dinner; but I remember listening to the boys talk, and they all agreed that it was most unwise to drink on an empty stomach.” Catching Harriet’s expression she added quickly: “Please don’t think that I am in the least intoxicated, Aunt Harry, even if this was the first time I have tried champagne. I understand that it is quite de rigueur nowadays for ladies even in the highest circles, and that even the Queen does so occasionally. So you see there’s no need for you to look at me that way or to scold; for I might just as well get used to it and learn to hold my liquor, as the boys up-country would say.”

“Hold your liquor indeed!” Harriet snapped. “And if you keep talking of those harebrained young officers you used to ride and hunt with as ‘the boys’ you could very well be misunderstood by someone who does not know you. Champagne! Nasty, fizzy stuff—I never did acquire a liking for it. Tell me the truth now, because I won’t have you making a fool of yourself when the evening’s gone so well until now. Do you feel at all dizzy? Does your face feel abnormally hot? You look quite flushed…”

“Oh please, Aunt Harriet!” Alexa could not help the note of impatience in her voice. “I have told you the truth; and you have been reminding me all evening that I am a grown-up young woman now and not a child. I do not feel dizzy and if my face appears flushed…” She broke off when Harriet nudged her ankle with her foot; and looking up saw Lord Charles return, followed by two servants.

“Hah! I’d like to see you put away all that, my girl!” Harriet whispered from behind her fan in a grim undertone. Her look was dour, for she would have liked to say much more to her headstrong niece on the subject of drinking; especially champagne, which was said to have a very insidious effect.

There appeared two small gilt-edged tables and a large silver platter holding every imaginable kind of fruit, together with pitchers of thick cream. But even as the servants began to arrange everything before her, Alexa’s eyes had already gone beyond them and past the smile on Lord Charles’s face to rivet, without reason, upon the man who walked at his side. She had thought the Viscount Deering tall, but this man was taller yet by at least four inches and had broader shoulders. His formal evening attire fitted him so closely that it had obviously been made for him—long, tightly fitting trousers (Aunt Harriet called them “unmentionables ”) that matched the black double-breasted jacket cut short in front to display a richly embroidered satin brocade waistcoat fashioned of varying shades of reds and golds and dark green; a strangely glowing dark green that seemed to match exactly his dark-lashed eyes. Animal eyes, Alexa thought inconsequentially. Like some she had seen glowing out at her from the dark in the sudden flare of a campfire. And there was something dangerous and almost barbaric about him that she could sense without quite understanding why or how at first: that sunbrowned face that was as dark as that of any native, with curly black sideburns sweeping down rakishly from temple to jawline and serving only to emphasize the harsh planes of his face. Even though he wore an air of easy assurance and civilization he was—in some strangely indefinable way—different. Like a primitive tribal warlord of ancient times who had chosen to masquerade in modern clothing; at least, for as long as it suited him.

Alexa discovered almost immediately that she did not like him, and that she especially hated the insolent way in which he looked her over without seeming to. She could almost feel his eyes on her mouth, her bosom, her…And now, unfortunately, she could not help the flush that colored her cheekbones while she thought angrily that the man was obviously a cad, and she was amazed that Lord Charles would associate with such a person.

It was all Alexa could do to keep up an appearance at least of being poised and unconcerned while the Viscount Deering proceeded to introduce her and her aunt to his several-times-removed cousin Nicholas. De la Guerra. Puzzlingly, a Spanish surname, although it was the mother who had been Spanish, according to Lord Charles. Not that it mattered to her—she only knew what her senses felt and wondered why her hands suddenly felt so cold and clammy, while she wished at the same time that he would walk away instead of continuing to watch her—for all the world like a leopard eying its prey.

“The Misses Howard live on a large coffee plantation in the central, mountainous part of Ceylon where it gets quite cool at certain times of the year, so I understand.”

“But I suppose that Colombo, in spite of the heat and humidity, must have its compensations. Do you visit here often, Miss Howard?”

Suddenly, Alexa found herself clenching her hands under the folds of her skirt, her first stirrings of disquiet growing into ugly suspicion that kept expanding and expanding. His voice, with an edge of cynicism underlining each overtly polite word…She had the feeling she had heard it before. That…Oh, please God, no!

“No!” Alexa said the word aloud without meaning to, and far too abruptly, judging from the Viscount’s rather startled glance. “That is—” she amended quickly “—we do not visit Colombo often at all. Do we, Aunt Harriet? This time it was only because…Of course it is so kind of the Governor and Mrs. Mackenzie…”

What on earth was wrong with the girl? Harriet thought irritably. She had behaved so well and with such poise all evening; and now, all of a sudden, she had begun to stutter like a schoolgirl. It had to be the champagne she had indulged in.

“We arrived only yesterday,” Harriet interposed smoothly before Alexa could say another word. “And it is really such a long and tiring journey—especially since we had to be up well before dawn. My poor niece was so worn out by the time we arrived that I had to send her directly to bed.”

“Why, we arrived only yesterday too!” Lord Charles exclaimed.

“However, since Colombo Roadstead is best approached in daylight we were forced to drop anchor some distance out to sea. Quite frustrating, in a way, since we were close enough to see the lights and even to make out which belonged to the Governor’s mansion, with the aid of a glass. In fact, if either of you ladies had happened to be wakeful enough to take a moonlight stroll last night I am certain you would have noticed our riding lights.”

As she listened to that slightly drawling voice Alexa had begun to feel slightly nauseated. How…oh, but how unspeakably low and vile he was! He wanted her to know that he recognized her, of course. Like the predatory jungle feline he had reminded her of from the first, he wanted her to suffer the torture of anticipation while he continued to play his cruel game with her. Perhaps he hoped to see her crumble before him, losing her poise, her pride and her courage.

“I am afraid that both my niece and I must have been already sound asleep by the time the moon was up.” Thank God for Aunt Harry! “In fact Alexa slept so late into the day that she missed both breakfast and lunch before I decided to wake her,” Harriet continued.

With a grateful smile for Lord Charles that excluded her tormentor, Alexa had begun to take tiny nibbles from the mountains of food that had been set before her. Fresh pineapple, mango and papaya topped with thick cream had always tasted delicious before; but now she hardly tasted anything at all; eating only because it saved her from having to engage in conversation or look in his direction. What a detestable, despicable man he was, this “Cousin” Nicholas that Lord Charles seemed to admire so much. It was quite apparent, for all his surface playacting, that he was by no means a gentleman and was obviously unused to dealings with ladies. A gentleman would have acted as if nothing had happened—and of course, thanks to her, nothing had taken place between them, Alexa reminded herself. She had sent him away, hadn’t she? And had decided to forget everything that had happened last night, had quite succeeded in doing so, until now. Why didn’t he go away? Or—a thought alarming enough to cause her heart to pound—what did he hope to achieve by playing cat-and-mouse with her?

“Is everything to your satisfaction, Miss Howard?”

Lifting her head, with a mixture of defiance and bravado arming her, Alexa managed to produce a brilliant smile for Lord Charles. “It was exactly what I had been craving all evening, and I do thank you for your kindness and consideration.”

He sent her a relieved smile in return. She had been so silent for the past few minutes that he had begun to wonder uncomfortably whether she had been offended in some way, perhaps by his introducing his cousin without first requesting permission to do so. And then, of course, Nicholas tended to be rather overwhelming when one met him for the first time. Sheltered young ladies especially could not be used to the kind of man who disdained what he referred to as “silly parlor games”; usually with a dangerous glint in those strange eyes of his that boded no good. But on this occasion Nicholas had laughingly promised to either behave himself or take himself off as soon as he felt it a strain to do so. To sheathe his claws, in fact.

“You won’t use that certain tone of voice on her, will you? She’s quite young and has been very sheltered. Never even been home to England, so I understand, even though she was born there. And this is her first ball—celebrating her eighteenth birthday, Mrs. Mackenzie told me. She’s really quite different, you know.”

“My dear Charles! Why on earth should I take the trouble to—sink my claws in her, did you say? Into some guileless little thing who probably won’t even recognize sarcasm if it’s directed at her? Believe me, I don’t bother to waste my time on giggling young innocents. I’ve lived long enough to discover that only women present a challenge worth taking up.”

Sometimes—perhaps most of the time—Charles didn’t understand Nicholas at all, even though they had become companions and even friends of a sort. Different countries, vastly different backgrounds—for all that the same blood ran in their veins, and for all that Nicholas was well traveled and had been in Europe several times as well as to China. The real difference between them was that Charles was truly civilized—innately polite—whereas Nicholas was well mannered only when it suited him and did not feel himself bound in the least by either custom or convention. But tonight at least he seemed to be comparatively well behaved, Lord Charles noted with a feeling of relief. Why, he was actually being obliging enough to engage the older Miss Howard in quite an animated conversation, which was unusual for Nicholas.

Seizing his chance, Lord Charles asked in a low voice, “Would you consider me too presumptuous if I were to beg for the honor of another dance? That is, if you have not already promised them all…”

Without really wanting to listen, Alexa had not been able to help overhearing some of the conversation between Aunt Harriet and Señor de la Guerra. Something to do with growing coffee and the way the berries had to be processed before they could be shipped. Hypocrite. Viper! What was he really up to?

Pushing her thoughts aside as decisively as she pushed away the gold-trimmed plate before her, Alexa decided to concentrate all of her attention upon Lord Charles while she ignored his so-called distant “cousin.”

“Oh! And now you are going to think poorly of me, and my aunt will scold and say I have disgraced her; but do you know that I cannot remember if I promised this dance to anyone or not?”

How adorable she was, and how frank and open in contrast to the practiced debutantes he was used to who had been trained to keep careful tally. And of course she was probably quite overwhelmed by the attention he was paying her, the darling innocent that she was.

“If you do not see any man with a happily gloating look upon his face who is hurrying in this direction—then? After all, Miss Howard, no real gentleman would allow himself to be even a minute or two late in claiming his dance, and you would be quite within the bounds of propriety if you were to accept the offer of another gentleman under such circumstances.”

“Are you teasing me or is it really permissible?” Alexa risked a hasty glance at her aunt who, surprisingly, seemed quite engrossed in whatever subject she was expounding upon. She should not agree to dance too many times with the same gentleman because it would only serve to make her appear conspicuous—how many times had Aunt Harriet told her so? And yet she needed to escape from the almost palpably physical presence of the man whose hard green eyes suddenly seemed in one flashing look to see right through her—through everything she wore to the warm flesh he had touched so intimately last night and with such sureness that he had, for a few moments, made her feel as if everything he was doing was both natural and right. Oh God! To think how close she had come to utter degradation!

“Word of honor, Miss Howard. There are some things I would never tease about, I assure you.”

Alexa said hastily and almost mechanically as she sternly pushed aside her wild thoughts, “It is just that I would not want to be considered fast by everyone else, you understand.”

“How could anyone possibly think such a thing of you? Miss Howard, I…” Lord Charles was forced to cut himself short when a rather breathless young man in military uniform came up at that moment to claim his dance, full of profuse apologies for his tardiness.

Unable to hide his disappointment, Charles was quite aware of his cousin’s cat-eyed look; but he pretended to ignore it, even when Nicholas said lazily: “How difficult it must be to have to play chaperone, or dueña as we say in Spanish, to such an attractive young woman. I have two younger sisters myself, and my poor mother is forever worrying about them and nagging, which doesn’t help. But perhaps customs here are not quite as strictly rigid? I have tried to persuade my mother that even well-brought-up young girls should be permitted a certain degree of freedom, so that they do not feel stifled by the restrictions that they are surrounded by—although to no avail so far, I must admit!”

When he shrugged, one could almost sense the ripple of muscles under skin beneath the closely fitting jacket he wore. And Harriet was immediately horrified at herself for even thinking such a thing. It had been more years than she cared to remember since she had noticed anything about a man beyond his manners, his clothes and his outward appearance. She must be on the verge of senility!

“Even in this remote part of the world we try to conform to what is proper and safe when it comes to the upbringing of a young lady,” Harriet heard herself say rather stiltedly. “I have had the charge of my niece’s education for the most part, and I think I have taught her what I consider most important of all—the difference between right and wrong. At any rate, she has seldom disappointed me so far.”

“And I have heard nothing but the most flattering comments on both her appearance and her manners,” Lord Charles interjected emphatically, deliberately ignoring his cousin’s cynical look. Damn Nicholas and his infernal air of detachment anyway; and let him make his sly assignations with the kind of experienced woman he preferred. But as for himself, he preferred the challenge of innocence that was so rarely to be found—a girl who was untouched and natural and still on the threshold of womanhood, full of ideals and expectations. Like Alexandra Howard. Alexa, her aunt had called her. And although he could only say her name in his mind for the moment, he hoped that before long, when she had learned to trust him, she would grant him that right.

Taking the seat that Alexa had vacated, Charles set out to be charming to her aunt, sending a defiant glance in his cousin Nick’s direction. After all, it wasn’t as if Nicholas was his guardian, dammit, just because he happened to be a few years older, and “The Pater,” as Charles usually called his father, the Earl of Atherton, had requested embarrassingly that Nicholas keep his son out of “any unsuitable entanglements.” Well, Miss Howard could hardly be called “unsuitable,” and in any case, at twenty-six years of age Lord Charles considered that he was wise enough in the ways of the world to be capable of managing his own affairs without interference from outsiders. Alexa…Why, he could easily fall quite madly in love with her! And there was no reason why he should not stay on here in Colombo longer and catch the next ship that sailed back home. With her to accompany him, perhaps. It was quite a titillating thought.

Rather belatedly, Charles noticed that his cousin was about to leave them, and was making his polite excuses to the older Miss Howard. Meeting the ironic look in those dark green eyes and a lifted black eyebrow, Charles put on his most pleasant smile as he murmured, “Are you deserting us, Nick?” How well he knew how his cousin hated that particular shortened form of his name. “Well, I think I will stay where I am and converse with Miss Howard, and hopefully win the honor of another dance with her lovely niece!”

“Oh, good heavens!” Harriet snorted uncontrollably at that, drawing a quite natural grin from the dark-visaged Señor de la Guerra for the first time. “I must say that I have never received such devoted attention before in all my life! It’s enough, I vow, to make me wonder if it could possibly be true that women, like select wines, become more sought-after with age and maturity. Perhaps you will be able to enlighten me?” And then, catching Lord Charles’s rather dismayed expression, she laughed shortly and said more kindly: “Ah, well! I’m afraid I’m one of those perfectly obnoxious old ladies who insist on sharpening their tongues occasionally at the expense of the young. And since I was never either an heiress or a beauty in my day, I was forced to fall back on my cleverness or my wit, neither of which ever brought me such marked attention as I have received this evening, though.”

“Then all I can say is that I pity the men of what you call your day who obviously had not the wit themselves to appreciate such a rare treasure as an alert and intelligent mind,” Lord Charles said quickly, with the winning smile that never failed to charm all of his mother’s friends. “I have always thought it a shame that too many young women in this day and age are only capable of carrying on a conversation that consists of mere banalities.”

“Then I must say that you’re different from most young men of today,” Miss Harriet said after giving him a piercing look.

Lord Charles kept an attentive smile on his face while he settled back to listen to her expound on what was obviously one of her favorite topics. Nicholas had wandered away to seek his amusements elsewhere, and Charles could not help a feeling of relief at not being under the surveillance of that mocking and somehow skeptical gaze that always made him feel young and vaguely uncomfortable. Dammit, why should he become a cold-blooded cynic who trusted in nothing and no one just because Nicholas was that way? There was no fun to be found in picking everything to pieces, he felt, and life and its pleasures were meant to be enjoyed. Like the lovely Alexandra—Alexa—even while he continued to listen to her aunt with half his mind, Lord Charles had begun to picture her at his side, elegantly gowned and hung with jewels that would show off her beauty. How jewels would glow against the rich bronze of her hair, lie heavily about her slender neck, gleam at her ears. And she should wear bracelets about her wrists and above her elbows as well, to emphasize the slimness of her upper arms. Rings on her tapered fingers too. And how he would enjoy dressing her—taking her to the most elegant modistes in London and Paris for her gowns—and how much more he would adore undressing her! Naturally, she would be afraid and even overwhelmed to begin with, but he would teach her, gradually and gently, to overcome her fears, teach her to love him. All he needed was enough time to spend with her, and he meant to make sure of that.