Surrender To Love. Rosemary Rogers
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Aunt Harry’s rather dour “Hmphh!” still in her ears, Alexa felt almost the same way she felt before putting her horse at a particularly difficult jump, or when she had to face a charging wild buffalo with blood in its eyes. “The only way to meet a challenge is head on,” Uncle John had told her a long time ago; and remembering his words, she lifted her head defiantly. Tonight was hers, and she would make it so—no one else could.
She looks as regal and as self-possessed as a young queen, my little Alexa, Sir John Travers thought as he waited at the bottom of the marble stairway. And so lovely too, reminding him for one painful instant, as her hair caught the dancing candlelight of the chandelier above, of someone else…. And then, sternly pushing that unpleasant memory out of the way, he returned her rather tremulous smile and lifted her cold hand to his lips in a courtly, old-world gesture of gallantry that came almost automatically at this moment.
“Ah…I knew that if I was patient enough I would be lucky enough to have the privilege of escorting both you ladies into the ballroom, where I’m sure your arrival is eagerly awaited. My dear Alexa, Mrs. Mackenzie is quite taken with you—as I knew she would be. And she is waiting to introduce you to all the latest arrivals. You will save at least one dance for your old Uncle John, won’t you though?”
Some of Alexa’s newly found bravado deserted her as they walked into an already crowded room where all the chattering ceased for a second as curious eyes were turned on them. She was relieved that Sir John had asked her a question, and said in a slightly panicked half-whisper: “I think I would like it above all things if I could dance as many dances as possible with you—and especially the first waltz—that is, of course if you are not already engaged to dance with someone important, like Mrs. Mackenzie, or…”
“But, my dear, don’t you know that tonight you are the most important lady present? And I’m sure you’ll have most of the young men here clamoring for the honor of a dance or even half a dance. Of course it would give me the greatest pleasure to have the first waltz with you; although I should not blame you in the least if you should change your mind, you know, and lose your heart to some dashing young blade between the lancers and a sprightly polka.”
“How could I? Most of the young men I’ve met are so silly, in any case, and I’d much rather have the chance of talking to you while we dance!”
They had come up to where the Governor and his wife were standing, and both ladies made their apologies, Harriet melting tactfully into the background soon afterwards with Sir John while Mrs. Mackenzie took Alexa’s hand with a smile and said kindly: “D’you think that I don’t remember how much time it took me to primp when I was your age? But you’re here now, and I’ll let you have enough time to get your bearings before we begin with introductions again. And if there is not enough time to get to all of them, well, it will be quite proper for you to agree to dance with any of the young men who might ask you, providing they ask permission of your aunt or me first—and depending on whether you think you might enjoy dancing with them, of course. If you don’t care to you can always make some excuse, you know. Tiredness or thirst or whatever excuse comes into your head first. I’m sure you’ll soon learn exactly what to say. But come along with me now and remember that there’s no need to be at all shy, because they’re all quite dazzled by how lovely you are, my dear.”
Mrs. Mackenzie’s hair was arranged in a formidable headdress of peacock feathers and purple orchids, and following in her wake Alexa could not help feeling very much like a tiny rowboat being towed along by a majestic ship of the line. Then the Governor’s lady stopped so suddenly that Alexa almost cannoned into her.
“Ah! And here is a gentleman you must meet, for his mother and I once attended the same school and his father was a friend of my late husband, Admiral Hood. May I present to you, Miss Howard, Charles Lawrence, Viscount Deering. You are a Viscount, aren’t you, Charles? Of course. I thought that was one of your father’s titles. Well, anyhow, this is Miss Alexandra Howard; and quite apart from being an uncommonly pretty girl she’s an heiress as well. No need to blush, my dear, for Charles knows I’ve always called a spade a spade. Known him since he was on leading strings, which gives me the right to be familiar. Well, Charles? Lost your voice as well as your manners?”
Alexa had almost begun to get used to Mrs. Mackenzie’s forthright manner of speech; but at this particular moment, feeling the eyes of the whole assembly watching, she could not prevent her cheeks from growing hot with embarrassment. In fact, it was only with a supreme effort that she managed to retain some semblance of composure; and obviously the young gentleman to whom she had just been presented was just as embarrassed as she was, for his face had also become flushed before he bent gallantly over her hand, lifting it to his lips.
“A pleasure, Miss Howard. I must confess that I had been looking forward to meeting you. Everyone here has been singing your praises.”
“Oh please! That is flattering to be sure, but you must not embarrass me by saying such things.”
Was that really her voice, responding so glibly with stock phrases? But during their brief exchange Alexa had been studying Lord Charles from behind the shield of her demurely lowered eyelashes; just as she knew very well that he was studying her.
He had chestnut-brown hair parted to one side, and a somewhat ruddy complexion. About four inches taller than she, he was slimly built and impeccably dressed by the right tailor, as even she could tell at a glance from the fit and cut of his clothes. And he was quite nice-looking—handsome, in fact—especially when he flashed her a conspiratorial smile that actually reached his amused brown eyes.
“Now that I have had the envied privilege of being presented to you, Miss Howard, I wonder if you would consider it too bold of me to importune you for the honor of a dance? I have to confess that I am hoping to be ahead of some of my shipmates who have been eagerly waiting for the guest of honor to arrive.”
Was it proper for her to accede to his request so soon after they had met? Alexa’s inquiring glance met with a smiling nod from the Governor’s wife, and she was able to turn back with a smile of her own to the young man who waited for her reply and to say without any of the usual coyness he was used to encountering from most of the young women he met, “I’m sure I shall enjoy dancing with you—and especially since you are the first gentleman who has had the initiative to ask me for a dance.”
She was quite enchanting, Lord Charles thought, as he said eagerly, “A waltz?”
He was rewarded by the sight of that tantalizing dimple of hers again and the flash of pretty white teeth. She seemed to hesitate for an instant before saying, “Oh yes! But not the first waltz though, for I’ve promised that to my adopted uncle.”
“The second waltz then…?” When she gave a slight inclination of her head in assent, Lord Charles looked into her intriguingly shaded eyes and murmured fervently, “I shall count each second until then, Miss Howard!” To his own surprise he found that he had, for a change, actually meant what he had just said.
“Well! And now that’s settled, Alexandra and I must be moving along. You young men of today take so long to come to the point! Can’t understand it!”
Alexa caught a long, almost caressing look from Lord Charles that should have made her blush, but instead only made her feel quite elated. Lord Charles. A Viscount, no less. (That ought to please Aunt Harriet!) And he seemed very nice too, and quite taken with her. Suddenly Alexa felt positively giddy with a rising sense of power as she thought: Shall I try to make him fall in love with me? And what if he does? There’s not much to flirting, really…it’s like acting out a part in a play. And in a way it’s such fun—finding out how easy it is after all to manipulate men, and finding out as well that they are not the omnipotent beings they think they are!
Alexa’s eyes had begun to sparkle and her cheeks to glow; and even Harriet was surprised at this sudden transformation in her wayward, recalcitrant niece who had stormed and sulked earlier at being forced to take part in some “silly charade” as she had termed it then. Now this new Alexa Howard was surrounded by a bevy of eager young men who were almost to the point of quarreling with each other as they begged for dances—or for even half a dance. And how