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.
8
Gala festivities in Colombo, since they occurred so seldom, usually lasted until the first mother-of-pearl shades of dawn pinked the sky defiantly and gradually faded the stars until they disappeared completely. Following a ball given on such a grand scale as this one, there would be a sumptuous breakfast served to all those who stayed on until the very end; even if the host and hostess had already retired to their beds.
Harriet had already warned her niece that she had no intention of keeping such early hours and that as soon as the Governor and his wife had begun to make their excuses, Alexa might take that as a signal that they should do so too. “And I’ll tolerate no dillydallying and procrastination either, if you please, once I have announced that we too should retire. Also, I shall expect you in future to refuse champagne when it is offered to you and to ask for fruit punch or lemonade instead; for you may take my word for it that even if a young gentleman does offer you wine or champagne he expects you to refuse it. Self-restraint, my dear Alexa, is a lesson you might learn and find useful in the future.”
“Yes, Aunt Harriet.” Alexa’s deliberately widened eyes and false smile caused Harriet to award her a grudging, if somewhat sarcastic nod.
“Very good, my dear, although the smile might have appeared less artificial if you had remembered not to grit your teeth together at the same time. And just one more word of advice—you would do much better not to show yourself too eager to accept the attentions of any one particular gentleman and give him too much of your attention, even if he should court you with posies and pretty speeches. As far as men are concerned it’s the thrill of pursuing the unattainable that keeps them interested; and an easy conquest is just as boring as a suggestion of uncertainty and competition is a challenge. For your own sake, you might remember what I have just told you.”
She had danced at least four times with Lord Charles, Alexa thought resentfully, but it did not really mean anything significant beyond the fact that she found him interesting to talk to as well as attractive and understanding. She was sure he did not misunderstand or think her too easily available; so why should the fact that other people might think this or that be a matter of concern to her? Before Alexa could say anything in reply to her aunt’s warning speech, however, she was approached by her next partner; an extremely bashful young man who had no conversation whatsoever, as she soon discovered. But that was her fault for feeling so flattered at being surrounded from the beginning by so many eager gentlemen begging for dances that she had recklessly promised almost all of them before realizing her own foolishness. The next time she would know better and would pick and choose; but perhaps…By the time she was being escorted back to her seat by her red-faced, perspiring partner, Alexa had begun to wonder thoughtfully if perhaps she should deliberately sit out a few dances. The next dance, maybe? Especially if it happened to be a polka and her partner an
