Surrender To Love. Rosemary Rogers

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it, slipped it on over the single petticoat she had kept on. No corset or stays to cut off her breathing. And if Lord Charles didn’t like her the way she really was, then his opinion didn’t matter to her either.

      A glance at her small clock told Alexa that she had already delayed longer than she had meant to, but if she ran part of the way…She paused again in front of the mirror to take one last look at herself, and then, acting on a sudden, wildly defiant impulse, she took down her hair and shook it free, letting it run down like a bronze rivulet to her waist. A brazen hussy, was she? Well, she would find out soon enough if Lord Charles thought so too.

      The young creature who sped barefooted through a night brightened by the light of millions of stars and flickering fireflies, with her dainty slippers carried carelessly in one hand and her mane of hair swinging between her shoulders, was a very different Alexa from the fashionably gowned and coiffed Miss Howard Lord Charles was used to seeing. Tonight she more resembled a half-wild gypsy as she ran as swiftly and as soundlessly as the jungle predators she was used to stalking; relishing the sudden, almost heady sense of freedom that filled her and would make this wild, rash escapade seem worthwhile even if he had decided not to wait for her. She had regained her sense of belonging only to herself—of being capable of daring anything and facing anything at all—and what fun she was having!

      Having run all the way, using the shortcut she remembered from past visits here, Alexa arrived at the small grove of coconut trees that fringed the beach and found herself quite out of breath, so that she was forced to pause for a minute or two in order to regain it. She seemed to have forgotten how long it had always seemed to take to arrive at the beach from the house, even if they did take the narrow and rather zigzag path that cut between trees and tall shrubbery. But at least she’d been lucky enough not to encounter any reptiles along the way or hear an owl issue its mournful cry of warning tonight!

      She had leaned her back against a tree while she caught her breath, and now Alexa shook her head impatiently to ward off her own thoughts. There was no sound to be heard except for the rustling of leaves overhead whenever a slight puff of sea breeze brushed against them and the endless soft sighing of the sea waves as they slid up the closely packed yellow-and-blue-tinged sand and retreated. Back and forth and back and forth…Of course he wouldn’t be here, still waiting. He had probably become discouraged by now and had left, thinking that she had not been able to manage to escape from the house after all; and he wasn’t well enough acquainted with her to know that if Alexa Howard made a promise she would keep it.

      Ah, well, at least she still had the night and the ocean all to herself! Straightening, Alexa stretched her arms above her head before lifting the weight of her hair off the back of her neck. How hot and heavy it felt since she’d stopped to rest. Reaching in her pocket for the green velvet ribbon she’d snatched up just before leaving, Alexa contrived rather impatiently to tie back her hair in a careless fashion that she decided would have to do for the present, even if the bow was knotted rather clumsily. She found herself longing to wade in the ocean again and to run along the beach playing tag with the waves as she’d done as a child. And why not? But first she must make quite certain that poor Lord Charles was not still waiting for her after all.

      Still carrying her soft leather slippers in one hand and pulling her gown calf-high with the other, Alexa left the sheltering darkness of the coconut trees to run lightly over the damp sand, sometimes letting tiny wavelets lick at her heels. When she glanced out to sea there were only the tiny, flickering lights of native fishing boats to be discerned; and above the darker, undulating surface of the ocean the myriads of stars seemed tumbled in their bright clusters against midnight blue velvet.

      How beautiful nighttime was! And here by the ocean there were different smells to be breathed in and savored, while the night sky seemed to arch and stretch ahead forever without the stark-black outlines of hills and mountains or densely growing jungle vegetation that always seemed to limit or take away from the vastness of the sky. Without her quite realizing it, Alexa’s steps had slowed, then paused, as she gazed at the dark, wavering line of the horizon. Her horizon—the furthest she could remember seeing. Would she ever go beyond and see the horizon continue to stretch and stretch ahead of her until she sighted other lands and other oceans? Would she ever get the chance to sight flying fishes and great whales and see ice floes floating on cold black seas, or watch the seasons change and feel what snow was like? Ah—for all of her reading about other countries and distant places whose very names spelled enchantment and mystery and her viewing of paintings and sketches and listening to descriptions, she had still not truly experienced anything beyond this small tropical island of about 25,000 square miles that was known as the Pearl of the Indian Ocean. Or Lanka…Serendib…Taprobane…Zeilan…so many other names from times long past when merchants and explorers from all corners of the world had traveled here; some to pause and to trade and some, caught by a certain spell, to stay. Perhaps Ceylon was the fabled land of the Lotus Eaters described in Homer’s Odyssey, Alexa thought suddenly. For even if distant horizons could beckon on a night such as this with questions and images and promises of rainbows’-ends, there were still the hot golden-and-green-shadowed days that slipped languorously by like water ripples in the wake of a slow-gliding canoe; making it far too easy to allow yourself to be lazy and dream life away without realizing it or even, in the end, caring.

      “Why don’t we ever go to England to visit? Everyone else we know does.”

      “For one thing, because your father is far too busy to leave the plantation. And for another, because neither you nor Freddy could stand the cold or the dampness.”

      “Well, France then! Doesn’t Mama have any relatives or friends there? Or Spain. I know from my geography book that it is always hot in the south of Spain. Or…”

      “Alexa, that is enough! Your poor mama has no family left alive in France; and in any case you know very well she’d never leave your papa to try to manage alone; and neither would I. Perhaps one day when you are grown up and married you will travel…”

      Dialogue from the past, suddenly returning to her mind as she stared at the distant, moving line between sea and sky. And when had she stopped questioning and become quite happy and content with her life and the activities she filled it with? Why, she had even been reluctant to leave home in order to come to Colombo, where she would have to face new people and new experiences. Thoughtfully, Alexa dug her bare toes into the sand before she moved back to watch a wave smooth out the impression she had left. So much for her impression left on Colombo society—if that nasty Mrs. Langford could have her way!

      Suddenly remembering why she had ventured out here in the first place, Alexa pushed straying tendrils of hair off her forehead and temples crossly, annoyed at herself for dallying to indulge in fanciful thoughts. She had promised Lord Charles that she would meet him by what she had always called “the sea wall”—that section of high stone wall marking the boundary of Sir John Travers’s property that extended all the way down to the ocean, reserving a pretty stretch of private beach for his use.

      “A wall!” Lord Charles had chuckled, delightedly. “Why, it reminds me of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, although I hope we will not be forced to converse only through a chink in it!”

      Alexa remembered laughing at the suddenly dismayed look that had clouded his expressive features for a moment before she had relented enough to explain that their bridle path would take them past the wall in question and that although it was high on this side her Uncle John had had rough steps built on his side of the wall in case any of his more curious guests might wish to observe what went on beyond it.

      “Ah, then you are determined to keep a wall between us!”

      “Well…perhaps only until I am quite sure I can trust you—or until you’re ingenious enough to think of a way of scaling it from your side!”

      It had probably been that

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