Master of His Fate: The gripping new Victorian epic from the author of A Woman of Substance. Barbara Taylor Bradford
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him? I’m not going to supper. I’ll never see him again.
But she was wrong.
Alexis crossed the marble-floored entrance foyer and noticed that the library door was half-open. She hurried forward.
Her father was sitting in a chair near the fireplace and immediately jumped up, putting the book he was holding on a nearby occasional table.
‘There you are, my dear. I hope you had a good afternoon and that all went well.’ His smile was welcoming.
She kissed his cheek, and went and sat on the edge of the chair opposite his. He also seated himself again.
‘Yes, it was a great success, Papa.’ Opening her reticule, she took out the envelope, explaining, ‘Delia has written to you about your donation.’
Henry Malvern took the envelope, opened it and read the note. He passed it back to his daughter, so she could read it for herself. ‘She expresses herself very well,’ he murmured.
‘And it is indeed a very generous gift to us. Thank you again, Papa. Delia’s husband donated and so did Vera’s, and Claudia Trevalian the same amount. We’ve suddenly got a nice cash reserve.’
‘You do indeed!’ he exclaimed. ‘Is your friend Claudia Trevalian by any chance related to Sebastian Trevalian?’ he asked, an interested expression on his face.
‘Yes, she is his eldest daughter,’ Alexis answered but, noting the curiosity, seeing an eagerness in her father’s eyes, she said nothing else.
Henry leaned back in the wing chair and was silent for a moment or two, wondering how well his daughter knew Claudia. Unable to resist, he finally asked, ‘Have you known Claudia a long time? Is she part of the charity?’
Although she knew where this was leading, Alexis understood she had no option but to continue the conversation. ‘No, not an old friend, I met her today. She’s Delia’s cousin, and yes, she really wants to be genuinely involved, from what she said. She’s come up with the idea of teaching some of the women to read and has offered to pay for bookshelves and bring books.’
‘How remarkable! And it’s an excellent idea. I’m certain a lot of those women never went to school. So now you’re all set to open Haven House, aren’t you?’
‘We are, Papa, and Delia and I will probably do so next week. We want to get the word around first, so that people know of its existence.’
‘I will tell Jack Holden and some of the other stallholders when I go to the Malvern on Monday. They’ll spread the word. Good news travels as fast as bad news, you know. And how old is your new friend?’
‘Claudia? Oh, I’m not sure – about twenty, I think.’
‘Yes, that sounds right. Her mother died when she was quite young … ten years ago, if I remember correctly, when Claudia was ten. And I must say Sebastian has done a wonderful job of bringing up his three girls. With the help of nannies, I’ve no doubt, but he’s been a spectacular father, devoted to them.’
Before she could stop herself, Alexis said, ‘You sound as if you know him.’
‘I do, but not in the sense of being a friend. He’s a nodding acquaintance, shall we say. We’re members of the same club.’
Alexis merely nodded, not wishing to be drawn into a conversation about Sebastian Trevalian. But her father had other ideas, and her heart sank when he began to speak.
‘Trevalian’s the most eligible man in London, from what I hear. Only forty or so, a widower with a fine reputation, no scandals about women. Handsome, rich and available. No wonder women fall at his feet.’
‘Oh really,’ Alexis muttered, ‘Have you seen them actually doing that?’
Henry began to laugh. ‘No, of course not; no one means it literally. It’s just a saying. They do flock around him, though, according to some of the other club members. A few of the men wonder why he’s never remarried, others don’t. They think he enjoys his bachelor life to the hilt.’
Alexis sat very still on the edge of her chair, not liking the way she was feeling. Her chest had tightened, and she was suddenly uneasy. Obviously Sebastian was one of those men-about-town they called playboys. Why do I care? It doesn’t matter to me what he does.
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