Surrender To Love. Rosemary Rogers

the cover of her fan she leaned closer to the girl in order to drive her point home as she added in a low, and almost fierce voice: “You see, my dear Alexa—and you must see, must understand if you are to survive and still remain wholly your own person—the most important lesson of all is control over all the emotional weaknesses that mankind has been cursed with: rage, hate, blindly misplaced pity, and—obsession. Which is merely another and more descriptive term for the sorry state of ‘being in love.’ But if you have enough strength of character to resist giving in to such weakness, then you might achieve anything you wish to achieve because you will always retain the advantage!” Taking a deep, rather uneven breath, Harriet sat back again, composing her features into their normal, almost forbiddingly austere lines.

      She had said too much to Alexa perhaps. Almost without volition she had opened up old wounds that were still far too tender and released, like oozing pus, too much bitterness. And yet Alexa, so young and lovely and full of the joy of living, had become over the years much more Harriet’s child than Victorine’s; and this was the time that Harriet hoped she had prepared her for—armed her for—the time when she would have to take her own first steps by herself into the world of her future. Whether Alexa would use what she had been taught—let her mind rather than her heart guide her—remained to be seen and was beyond Harriet’s control now.

      She heard a hard little voice that was scarcely recognizable as Alexa’s say softly at her side, “Thank you, Aunt Harriet, for reminding me of everything. And now I am not even afraid any longer of anyone or of anything; so you must not continue to worry about how I shall get on. I shall do very well indeed!”

      “Hah!” Harriet, with an effort, managed to sound like her usual self. “We’ll have to see about that, shan’t we? But for the moment I wish you would try to smile and show off your dimple, my dear, for I think I sense a collision, if not a confrontation, between two of your admirers. Here comes your Viscount with a determined look in his eye, and the Governor’s junior aide with the glass of punch you requested some time ago. And don’t look to me for help; I intend to sit back and observe for myself how well you manage to deal with such crises.”

      7

      Smile, Alexa, smile! And try to be, at least on the surface, exactly what they expect you to be—want you to be. An arresting face and a passable figure, with nothing behind the face to think or question. Don’t, by all means, forget to show that dimple of yours men think so enchanting, and don’t forget to flatter them—lords of the universe! Above all, never be foolish or daring enough to forget that you are, after all, only a poor silly, helpless, dependent female. Belonging to your father until you are fortunate enough to find a man who wants to marry you—and the property of your husband after that, like your fortune, should you possess one. For women were not supposed to have the brains to handle money, of course, and needed a strong, dictatorial male in their lives to guide and instruct them in every way! And once a woman passed from her papa’s keeping into her husband’s, she belonged to him in the same way as his horse or his favorite hound or any of his other possessions.

      Disgusting. The mere thought was degrading! Alexa’s teeth gritted for an instant under the cover of her bright smile and interested look. But—even if she could not change laws and customs, she reminded herself that she had been trained to think; and that gave her an advantage. Did the secret of the few powerful, successful women she had read about lie in finding a weak man? Alexa pondered that for a moment and then decided to let it be for now, although she meant to find out eventually. Aunt Harriet was right—she tended to be far too precipitate at times, a fault she must learn to beware of and curb. One step at a time—until she had had sufficient opportunity to study the people she met and could determine how best to deal with them. That was the best and the safest way to proceed.

      “Miss Howard—excuse me, sir—but I believe this is our dance?”

      “Oh, but of course it is. The second waltz. I had not really forgotten, of course, but Mr. Sutherland’s account of his wonderfully interesting duties as aide to the Governor had me so fascinated that I did not even hear the musicians strike up, I’m afraid.”

      Alexa had managed to keep Lord Charles at her side for the past few minutes by explaining apologetically that Mr. Sutherland had been so kind and gallant—forgoing the dance she had promised to him in order to fetch her a glass of punch to assuage her thirst—but the glance she had given him from under quickly lowered lashes while she played with her small ivory fan was enough to make Lord Charles think that she would much rather have been engaged in conversation with him, although sheer politeness forced her to pretend to listen to the pompous and boring Mr. Sutherland. While Mr. Sutherland, on the other hand, felt that the interest Miss Howard had shown in his conversation, in spite of the fact that she had a Viscount standing behind her chair in attendance, was a sure indication of which gentleman she really preferred. Of course she had turned her head away occasionally to engage in some polite exchange of words with Lord Charles, but that only proved that she was mannerly as well as being well-bred. As Alexa left on Lord Charles’s arm to join the dancers after a softly murmured apology to him, Mr. Sutherland gazed after her with a fatuous smile that made Harriet want to snort explosively again as she thought what arrant fools men could be.

      Viscount Deering wore a rather rueful smile as he looked down at his partner. “What a soft heart you have, to be sure! But I must confess that even I had to feel sorry for the poor, pompous young man.”

      “Yes, he is really very young, isn’t he? Just a few years older than my younger brother, Frederick. I daresay poor Mr. Sutherland must miss his home and his mother.”

      “Well, I beg that you will not think about him any longer or my feelings will be quite crushed! Do you know, Miss Howard, that I have been counting every minute until this moment?”

      “I think you’re flirting with me, Lord Charles.”

      “I suppose I must confess that I was trying to. Do you mind very much?”

      “No—I don’t think so, really. Especially since you have been so honest about it. I wish…” She hesitated, but Charles, quite charmed, prompted her gently.

      “And what is it that you wish, Miss Howard?”

      “Well, to tell the truth—and I don’t quite know why I should be saying this to you when we have only just met—I have often wished that people could always be honest and straightforward in their dealings with each other. Haven’t you?”

      Her unexpected question had taken him by surprise, and Lord Charles in his turn hesitated a few moments before he answered it.

      “I suppose…Yes, to be truthful, I too have often wished that such a thing could be so. But since we live in a world with other people who do not think the same way and might mistake honesty for weakness or mere stupidity —what is one to do? But we are being far too serious, I think! Please, I wish that you would tell me more about yourself, Miss Howard. Where your home is; the things you enjoy doing…”

      “I am afraid I have led a very sheltered life here in Ceylon, and I have never traveled abroad in all my life. But surely Mrs. Mackenzie must have told you everything she knows about me and about my background already? I’m afraid that a dull account of a very quiet life on a coffee plantation in a remote province far removed from Colombo can hardly interest you; especially since your life must be so different and so exciting in comparison. Have you traveled a great deal and had all kinds of strange adventures? Does life here seem very slow and backward to you in comparison to life in England and Europe? Oh—I do hope you don’t mind my asking so many questions?”

      Lord Charles, who was considered quite an eligible catch by London’s matchmaking mamas and had been glad of an excuse to flee from them for a while, found himself frankly intrigued by this exceptional young woman who swung so lightly in his arms. Exceptional—yes, she was that, and more. A treasure he would never have expected to find here in this small crown colony of all places. Different—with a certain air of poised self-assurance that was lacking in most young women of her age and protected background. And spirited too; he had already sensed that under the ladylike exterior.