Surrender To Love. Rosemary Rogers

and almost cheerfully into Charlotte’s gaping face before she added with mock concern: “Or is it that I have, quite unwittingly, upset poor Charlotte by practicing my Italian on Lord Charles? If so, you should have said so to him, Charlotte. But you may have Mr. Sutherland all to yourself if you like him, and I promise to keep out of the way. In any case Lord Charles will be returning to England tomorrow, so you see…?”

      Charlotte’s mortified “Ohh!” was drowned out by Mrs. Langford’s rising voice as she pronounced in a strident tone: “Why, you brazen young hussy! And to think that I actually encouraged my poor daughter to try and make a friend of you! Thank God there has not been time for her to have been swayed by what I see before me! A young woman—surely too young to have been allowed to indulge in every vice known to…Surely not a second glass of sherry?”

      “Indeed, yes! And it really is an excellent sherry too, in case you might wish to change your mind and join me in a glass.” While Mrs. Langford searched in her reticule for her vinaigrette, almost panting from emotion, Alexa continued in a deliberately questioning voice: “But Mrs. Langford, surely you must know that for a lady to partake of wine or sherry is considered quite the done thing in the highest social circles everywhere in Europe? So Uncle John was telling me at any rate, and I am sure that he would know. In fact, I understand from him and from Lord Charles that even the Queen has been observed to partake of wine or champagne. But perhaps this is not my only vice in your eyes? Have you managed to discover any other vices I should be called to account for?”

      Having delivered her speech, Alexa had lifted her tiny glass of sherry to her lips and sipped from it deliberately, her dark brows lifted in question; and it was at that point that Mrs. Langford forgot herself as she almost gasped out: “Why, that you dare to mention our angelic young Queen as an example—an excuse for your own…And what will you do, pray, when Lord Charles has left—and left you with a reputation for allowing gentlemen Too Much Familiarity? Ah, it is too late, Miss Howard, to cringe from the last of Truth, I am afraid! For a woman’s reputation follows her everywhere, and once she has allowed certain…Take care! For you will find that once the word is out every other man you meet will—although I shudder to say it—Expect the Same Thing! And they might even…”

      Emptying her glass for the second time before setting it down with such force that Charlotte jumped and gave a small scream, Alexa advanced to stand directly before Mrs. Langford; and there must have been something in her almost feline manner of walking and her stance that startled even that thick-skinned lady into sudden silence.

      “And what exactly do you mean by ‘The Same Thing’? For you must understand, Mrs. Langford, that in spite of my ‘free and easy manners’ and the—the familiarities I supposedly allow gentlemen to take, there are still some things I remain ignorant of. But I am sure that you, ma’am, with your obvious worldly experience in such matters, could instruct me?”

      It was perhaps fortunate for all concerned that Velu had made his entrance at that point, while Mrs. Langford was still gasping like a beached fish and her daughter hovered on the brink of hysterics. Just as well too, Alexa thought darkly, that the dirty-minded old witch had decided to beat a hasty retreat while she could; sweeping her precious Charlotte ahead of her.

      “Come, Charlotte! And you may rest assured, Miss Howard, that I will be speaking to Sir John as soon as possible.”

      “I had hoped that you would, ma’am! For then he could explain to me the exact meaning of some of the expressions you used!”

      One of them had been “brazen hussy.” Dismissing the sleepy-eyed ayah, Alexa stared at her own reflection in the looking glass while she attempted to tidy her hair. She should have let the maid, Karuna, brush it out for her as she had offered, but it had seemed more important that she be left alone with her thoughts at this time—with herself. Was she a brazen hussy? Well, better that than a pious hypocrite putting on mincing little airs and mounting trivial, meaningless words.

      And why should I care what people like that might think of me or accuse me of being? Swinging angrily away from the mirror, Alexa began to search determinedly for her favorite green dress, and finding it, slipped it on over the single petticoat she had kept on. No corset or stays to cut off her breathing. And if Lord Charles didn’t like her the way she really was, then his opinion didn’t matter to her either.

      A glance at her small clock told Alexa that she had already delayed longer than she had meant to, but if she ran part of the way…She paused again in front of the mirror to take one last look at herself, and then, acting on a sudden, wildly defiant impulse, she took down her hair and shook it free, letting it run down like a bronze rivulet to her waist. A brazen hussy, was she? Well, she would find out soon enough if Lord Charles thought so too.

      The young creature who sped barefooted through a night brightened by the light of millions of stars and flickering fireflies, with her dainty slippers carried carelessly in one hand and her mane of hair swinging between her shoulders, was a very different Alexa from the fashionably gowned and coiffed Miss Howard Lord Charles was used to seeing. Tonight she more resembled a half-wild gypsy as she ran as swiftly and as soundlessly as the jungle predators she was used to stalking; relishing the sudden, almost heady sense of freedom that filled her and would make this wild, rash escapade seem worthwhile even if he had decided not to wait for her. She had regained her sense of belonging only to herself—of being capable of daring anything and facing anything at all—and what fun she was having!

      Having run all the way, using the shortcut she remembered from past visits here, Alexa arrived at the small grove of coconut trees that fringed the beach and found herself quite out of breath, so that she was forced to pause for a minute or two in order to regain it. She seemed to have forgotten how long it had always seemed to take to arrive at the beach from the house, even if they did take the narrow and rather zigzag path that cut between trees and tall shrubbery. But at least she’d been lucky enough not to encounter any reptiles along the way or hear an owl issue its mournful cry of warning tonight!

      She had leaned her back against a tree while she caught her breath, and now Alexa shook her head impatiently to ward off her own thoughts. There was no sound to be heard except for the rustling of leaves overhead whenever a slight puff of sea breeze brushed against them and the endless soft sighing of the sea waves as they slid up the closely packed yellow-and-blue-tinged sand and retreated. Back and forth and back and forth…Of course he wouldn’t be here, still waiting. He had probably become discouraged by now and had left, thinking that she had not been able to manage to escape from the house after all; and he wasn’t well enough acquainted with her to know that if Alexa Howard made a promise she would keep it.

      Ah, well, at least she still had the night and the ocean all to herself! Straightening, Alexa stretched her arms above her head before lifting the weight of her hair off the back of her neck. How hot and heavy it felt since she’d stopped to rest. Reaching in her pocket for the green velvet ribbon she’d snatched up just before leaving, Alexa contrived rather impatiently to tie back her hair in a careless fashion that she decided would have to do for the present, even if the bow was knotted rather clumsily. She found herself longing to wade in the ocean again and to run along the beach playing tag with the waves as she’d done as a child. And why not? But first she must make quite certain that poor Lord Charles was not still waiting for her after all.

      Still carrying her soft leather slippers in one hand and pulling her gown calf-high with the other, Alexa left the sheltering darkness of the coconut trees to run lightly over the damp sand, sometimes letting tiny wavelets lick at her heels. When she glanced out to sea there were only the tiny, flickering lights of native fishing boats to be discerned; and above the darker, undulating surface of the ocean the myriads of stars seemed tumbled in their bright clusters against midnight blue velvet.

      How beautiful nighttime was! And here by the ocean there were different smells to be breathed in and savored, while the night sky seemed to arch and stretch ahead forever without the stark-black outlines of hills and mountains or densely growing jungle vegetation that always seemed to limit or take away from the vastness of the sky. Without her quite realizing it, Alexa’s steps had slowed, then paused, as she gazed at the dark, wavering line of the horizon. Her horizon—the furthest she could remember seeing.