The Governess's Convenient Marriage. Amanda McCabe
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She dared not take a deep breath until the carriage door shut behind her and they rolled into traffic, leaving Waverton House behind.
She laughed, feeling free, though she knew she had to make the very most of it. If her parents had their way, she would be packed off to some German duchy forthwith.
Alex shuddered at the thought. She stared out the grimy window at the streets flashing past, the crowds, the carriages, the bright gleam of shop windows. It wasn’t that she would mind seeing the world beyond London; in fact, it would be fascinating. She was excited to be going to Paris, whatever the reason. In between official engagements, there would surely be time to see some museums, shops, the wonders of the Exhibition, like the Eiffel Tower and Mr Edison’s electric lights. Maybe even the Wild West Show!
Yet she had met princes and duchesses from Germany and Austria. If she felt smothered by life as the daughter of an English duke, that was ten times worse. The etiquette that ruled every movement in a German court, oversaw every moment, would never go away. How would it feel to be trapped in such a world for the rest of her life?
Neither, though, could she bear to think about letting her family down. Since the nursery, she had been taught that the good of the family was paramount. They had been dukes since the time of Queen Anne, devoted to royal service and rewarded for that devotion in turn. The Wavertons had one of the most respected titles in the kingdom.
But also ever since the nursery she had been plagued with a shyness, an overpowering desire to disappear into the background, that made that duty a blasted hard one! She had always known she would have to marry one day, but why did it have to be to some German prince?
‘Ugh!’ she groaned aloud. The very thought made her want to run away immediately to live alone in a hut on some snowy mountainside, if such a place could be found.
But she had no more time to think about her limited options as the hansom stopped at the gates of the park and she glimpsed her friends waiting. Diana had her sketchbook out, no doubt studying the ladies’ hats, and Emily and Christopher Blakely, Alex’s cousin and their not-very-strict-at-all chaperon, were arguing about something, as they usually did when they met. Chris was Alex’s favourite relative, always so light-hearted, so quick with a laugh, so handsome with his blond hair so like her own, but somehow much smoother and lovelier. She couldn’t understand why he and Em always seemed to be at odds.
‘Alexandra, there you are!’ Emily called as Alex stepped down from the carriage. ‘We’d almost given up on you.’
‘I’m so sorry I’m late,’ Alex said. ‘I’m afraid my father caught me as I was trying to sneak out and insisted on talking to me.’
‘I am sorry, old bean,’ Chris said as he kissed her cheek. ‘A ducal lecture must be tiresome indeed. My own fa’s are bad enough.’
‘It wasn’t a lecture, exactly,’ Alex said. She considered sharing her concerns, but then decided not to. She didn’t want to spoil the sunny afternoon. ‘In fact, it was rather nice—we’re going to Paris, it seems.’
‘Oh, Paris!’ Diana sighed as she tucked away her sketchbook. ‘How heavenly. You are so lucky, Alex.’
‘Maybe I’ll see you there,’ Emily said. ‘Father wants to expand the business to Paris and I’ve been trying to persuade him to let me go there. We have to compete with Gordston’s!’
Chris offered Alex his arm and they followed Diana and Emily as they joined the flow of people headed towards the bandstand. It was indeed a glorious spring day, the trees bursting into pale green, the flowerbeds bright with yellow-and-red blossoms, the crowds in their finest as they flocked to listen to the merry band music. How different it was from the people she saw at the round of parties and in her parents’ drawing room! It was all so fascinating, so full of wonderful, vivid life.
‘How is William?’ she asked Chris. His brother, William—now Sir William—Blakely, had been working with the Foreign Office in India and was due home any day. Will, unlike Chris, had always frightened her just a bit. He was always kind to her, but so very darkly handsome, so solemn and businesslike and strong, he intimidated her.
‘He’s home now and promised to be at your grand ball next week,’ Chris said. ‘But they already have him working all hours and, really, who can blame him for wanting to escape our parents as much as possible.’
Alex groaned. ‘He has my sympathies.’ Her aunt, her mother’s sister, and her husband had not been happy for years. Her uncle tended to be loud and overbearing to get his points across and her aunt silent and passive. It was not a happy example of marriage, which was yet another reason Alex grew frightened when her parents pressed so for her to marry soon. ‘I can’t wait to see Will again, but tell him he absolutely doesn’t have to come to the ball. It will be a dreadful crush, no fun at all.’
‘Fun doesn’t seem a concern to Will. Just work, work, work, that’s all he thinks about.’
Alex laughed and nudged him with her elbow. ‘Unlike his brother.’
Chris put on a stern expression, making her laugh even more. ‘Someone has to maintain the family presence in society, Alexandra.’
‘Yes, and you do that very well. Your name is always in the gossip pages.’ The crowd grew thicker as they came closer to the bandstand, people pressing in on every side. Alex’s hat was knocked loose from a pin and she clutched at it as she tried to hold on to Chris.
‘I see some places closer to the front!’ Emily called. Alex tried to follow her, to keep Em’s large, pink-feathered hat in view, but the knots of people gathered around her ever tighter and tighter. Her arm slipped out of Chris’s and she desperately reached out for him, but like Em he slipped away. She was alone, drowning in a sea of strangers.
She felt so cold, so stricken with a sudden giddy rush of panic that she wanted to scream. Her hat was almost knocked off her head and, as she grabbed at it, someone ran into her from behind, making her stumble. The people in front of her moved as she tumbled into them, but that left a patch of gravel clear for her to fall towards it.
Time seemed to slow down, to freeze with the fear, and her hands shot out to catch herself. She braced herself for the jolt of pain.
Before she could land, someone seized her around the waist and lifted her up—up and up, off the ground entirely. Everything around her spun like a stained-glass window, the green trees, the yellow flowers, the reds and blues and browns of the ladies’ hats, all blurred together. Alex couldn’t catch her breath.
When she finally landed on her feet again, clutching at her hat, she found herself facing the most astonishing man she had ever seen. For one giddy instant, she wondered if she had indeed hit her head and landed in a book of Norse sagas.
He was very tall, so tall he blotted out the sunlight, and was a silhouette haloed in its golden glow. His shoulders were so broad under the perfect cut of his fine hunter-green wool coat, and his hair, falling to an unfashionably long length from beneath his stiff-crowned silk hat, was a glorious red-gold colour. His nose was slightly crooked, as if it had once been broken and healed badly, but that didn’t diminish from his sharp-cut cheekbones, his square jaw. He stared down at her from eyes so icy and pale blue they glowed.
She tottered on her feet, disorientated, and he held on to her by her waist, most improper. Most—interesting. He frowned—in concern, or irritation?—as he looked down at her. ‘Are you injured, miss?’ he asked, his voice deep and rich, touched with a Scots burr that made him seem even more otherworldly.
He reminded her of something, but what? It was just there, just beyond the edges of her mind, but it kept slipping away. Maybe she had dreamed of him once or something, he seemed quite unreal.
‘I—I…’ she gasped, feeling foolish, as she seemed to have forgotten all words.
‘You can’t breathe, it’s no wonder, all these glaikit people everywhere,’ he said. ‘Eh!’ he shouted. ‘Everyone move and give a lady some space to breathe.’
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