She knew she must remove herself from her father’s presence for a while, otherwise he would go on and on about Claudia’s father. Single men drew him like a bee to honey. He was always on the lookout for a good, upstanding, available man. For her. Even though he knew she was not interested in becoming involved with any of them, and certainly marriage was out of the question. For her.
She stood up, clutching her reticule and the envelope, which she passed back to her father. ‘If you don’t mind, Papa, I am going to go to my room and change my clothes. I thought I would wear one of my house gowns for supper. They are much more comfortable.’
‘Yes, my dear, do go and change. And I shall continue to read David Copperfield.’
‘Yet again,’ she said, smiling at him. He looked about to speak, and she cut across him and said, ‘I do know it’s your favourite book of all time. It was even Dickens’s own favourite.’
‘Do you always have to have the last word?’ he asked, his eyes loving.
She brought her fingers to her lips, shaking her head. Then she blew him a kiss and disappeared.
Within minutes, her lovely maid, Tilda, was in her room helping Alexis undress. First she undid all of the little buttons down the back and helped her out of it. Alexis removed her small hat. Then Tilda began to unlace the tight corset which went over her torso and down over her hips. Once the corset was removed, two different petticoats came off, then the half-hoop which was tied around her waist. The last things to be removed were her knickers, the chemise across her chest, and finally the garter belt and silk stockings.
Naked, Alexis slipped on the silk robe Tilda held out to her and tied it, turned around to look at her maid, and thanked her profusely.
‘What a relief it is to get these undergarments off,’ Alexis said. With a smile and another word of thanks, she went into the adjoining bathroom as Tilda began to hang up the gown.
Feeling free at last, Alexis stretched her arms above her head; she bent low, touched her toes, then she waved her arms in the air and reached for the ceiling. She did these exercises every night, the moment her garments were removed. They were very constricting.
Once she felt suppler and free, she leaned forward, gazed at herself in the mirror above the washstand. There was no doubt in her mind that she did look rather nice this afternoon … how hard he had stared at her. When she had looked at him through the carriage window, he had held her eyes, devoured her with his. She had been unable to look away. His eyes were so translucent she felt as though she were looking deep into his soul. Something had been said without words … a message had been sent.
She turned away from the mirror swiftly. Why was she thinking about Sebastian Trevalian? She must dismiss him from her thoughts.
Returning to her bedroom, she found it was empty. Tilda had put her clothes away and disappeared. Before leaving, her maid had closed the draperies and placed a small quilt on the chaise, so that Alexis could take a rest before supper.
She lay down, covered herself with the quilt and closed her eyes. But she did not fall asleep. Her mind turned and turned … about the charity, her new friend Claudia, and Claudia’s father.
Why had he stuck in her mind? Because of his extraordinary eyes, and what they had told her so eloquently. That he desired her, wanted to be with her, aimed to get her. She could not allow that to happen. Sebastian Trevalian might be the most handsome man she had ever met, but he was also the most dangerous.
Claudia Trevalian loved Aunt Dorothea, her father’s sister. She was a very special woman, rather unique, and she had been kind to them all after their mother’s death, extremely caring. Claudia’s two younger sisters, Lavinia and Marietta, loved her as much as she did, and their father adored her.
At this moment Thea, as she had always been called, was sitting with Sebastian near the bay window in the parlour; Claudia was at the other side of the room, seated near the fireplace. Even on this late afternoon in July, the weather had already cooled, and the fireside was a warm and welcoming place to relax.
Although Aunt Thea was a widow and well taken care of by her husband’s considerable estate, Claudia was aware that she was a shareholder in the family’s private bank, which her father ran. His sister was also on the board of directors and had been for years. Of course she was. Her father protected those he loved.
Close together, chatting animatedly, Claudia saw them objectively for a moment. Anyone would know they were brother and sister, so alike were they in appearance. Although Aunt Thea had brighter blonde hair and pale blue eyes, their features were similar, cast no doubt.
Dorothea Trevalian Rayburn was fifty years old, but did not look it. Her husband, Martin, had died fifteen years ago in a riding accident. He had been thrown by a new stallion he was attempting to break and train. It was an instantaneous death; he broke his neck in the fall.
Aunt Thea had once told her that she was glad it had been so quick and that he had not been left wheelchair-bound for life. ‘He wouldn’t have been able to tolerate that,’ Aunt Thea had explained, ‘being such an athletic man, a hunting-shooting-fishing man.’
Claudia saw the truth in that, but then she was down-to-earth, just like her aunt. She glanced around whilst her father and aunt went over more bank papers.
As always, she admired the way Aunt Thea had furnished the room in light pastel colours. The upholstered sofas and chairs were filled with cushions and were comfortable, and there weren’t too many small occasional tables. But Aunt Thea’s were tall tables, chosen to accommodate the crinolines the women wore. Because of their height they didn’t get knocked over.
Her thoughts went to Alexis, who had been dressed in a tailored gown, the kind she herself now preferred. The purple suit she was wearing today was the most comfortable outfit she owned, and she decided there and then that she would have another one made by Madame Valance. Alexis. Her image hovered in her head. She had liked her the moment they had met at Delia’s house earlier, had thought her quite beautiful. No wonder her father had looked at Alexis twice. That she understood. What had puzzled her was his blatant moving in on Alexis, the way his eyes had been riveted on her the entire time she was with them.
Turning in the chair, Claudia stared at the fire, watching the flames flying up the chimney. She was remembering how, when they were in their carriage, finally coming here to Kensington, her father had been silent, looked preoccupied, gazing out of the window most of the time. Hardly speaking. And she had noticed he appeared to have been genuinely affected by Alexis, which was something she had never ever seen happen with any other woman before.
In fact, there had not been many women around him since her mother’s death. He had certain women friends of longstanding, whom he invited to join him on special occasions or to go to events, but she was aware they were merely friends. If he knew any other women, with whom he might have more intimate relationships, she did not know about them …
‘Claudia, here we are.’ His voice brought her out of her thoughts as he strode across the room, followed by her aunt, who said, ‘I’m afraid I’ve neglected you, my dear,’ and sat down in a nearby chair.
Claudia smiled at her. ‘It’s nice just being here in this lovely room, Aunt Thea. And I think I’ve spotted a new painting, haven’t I?’
‘You
