The Bridegroom's Bargain. Sylvia Andrew

for all of them. He shook his head impatiently and got up. ‘If only’, ‘could have’, if…if…if…what use was that? Going back was impossible. What was clear at present was that Alexandra was not going to acknowledge he was even there. He’d have to leave it for today. Tomorrow he would have a word with Dr Loudon and see what he had to say. Somehow or other they had to move on, attempt to make sense of this mess. She couldn’t escape into sleep forever.

      His voice cooler, he said, ‘Very well. I can see you aren’t yet ready to talk to me. But I won’t give you much longer, Alexandra. We made a bargain, you and I, and I shall see that you keep to your side of it. I’ll be back.’

      He walked to the door. ‘Murdie? You can come in now. Lady Deverell is still asleep.’ Murdie came in, and with a last look at his wife Richard went out, shutting the door quietly behind him.

       Chapter Three

       T he door closed. Lexi heard a rustle of skirts, and felt Lady Honoria’s maid gently straightening the sheets. She was safe.

      Still keeping her eyes closed, she contemplated the pictures called up by what Richard had just said. She remembered watching the two men enter the ballroom at Northumberland House. Even in a company that was by then well used to officers in its midst, they had attracted attention. The taller one, dark, with cool grey eyes and an air of arrogance about him, had appeared to be indifferent to the interested gaze of the ladies. The other, with a thatch of dark red hair and laughing blue eyes, had returned their glances with enjoyment. Richard and Johnny. They looked so spruce in their dress uniforms that no one could have guessed that they had arrived in London only that afternoon. Lexi sighed and sought escape into the past again…

      Though she had been fully conscious of the two men circling the ballroom in search of her, was aware of their every movement, she made a great effort to appear not to have noticed them. No longer was she the impulsive hoyden who had followed the two boys round wherever they went, pleading to be allowed to go with them. She had learned a lot in the past year or two, and now was the time to put her lessons to good use. And she was determined that when Richard finally found where she was, he would have to come to her. When he reached her at last she was ready.

      ‘Johnny! Richard!’ she cried with a surprised look and a warm but not extravagantly affectionate smile. ‘Why didn’t you tell us you were in London? It’s wonderful to see you—and both looking so well.’ Before they could say anything she turned to her godmother. ‘Lady Wroxford—you know Johnny already, of course, but this is his friend, Richard Deverell. Lady Wroxford is my godmother, Richard, and a very kind one, too.’

      Conventional words, covering a tumult of feeling. As they stood and chatted to her godmother she examined them covertly. They were both still handsome, but they looked older, no longer boys, but men in their prime, with an air of command about them, a hint of ruthlessness. Lexi reminded herself that they had spent the last three years fighting under Wellington in the harshest of conditions, that they had faced death and disease, defeat as well as victory. And now, from what they were saying to Lady Wroxford, it appeared they wanted to put it all behind them and enjoy what was left of one of the most brilliant Seasons London had seen for a long time.

      In the days and weeks that followed Lexi realised that Johnny had not changed underneath. He was still her beloved, amusing, carelessly affectionate brother, kind when it suited him, but basically selfish. At first it was Johnny who escorted her to the many events during the rest of the month, but, as his circle of acquaintances expanded, he grew less eager to be tied to his sister. He began to ask Richard to deputise for him, to Lexi’s great annoyance. It was no part of her plan that Richard should regard himself as a substitute brother. But help came from an unexpected quarter. Lady Wroxford, too, was uneasy at the arrangement.

      ‘My dear, I know from what you and your brother have told me that Mr Deverell has always been regarded as a member of the family, but the truth is he is a handsome and extremely eligible male who is not at all related to you. Unless you wish to provoke undesirable gossip, you will not be seen in his company as often as John suggests.’

      When she put the same point to Johnny, however, he roared with laughter. ‘Oh, forgive me, ma’am, but that is nonsense!’

      ‘Indeed?’ said Lady Wroxford icily. ‘I think I know the world of the ton better than you, John. And, while I am in charge of your sister, I will not allow her to be compromised, however close she and Mr Deverell have been in the past. That was when she was a child, not the very attractive young lady she now is.’

      ‘You mean people might say Dev ought to marry her?’

      ‘I am sure neither Mr Deverell, nor your sister, would do anything to encourage the gossips to go as far as that, but one cannot be too careful.’

      Johnny frowned, then his face lit up and he said eagerly, ‘But that wouldn’t half be a bad idea! It’s never occurred to me before, but Dev would be a first-rate catch for Lexi! They’ve known each other for ever, and they’ve always got on well. What do you say, Lexi? Would you like to marry Dev? I think he would be willing if I asked him to. I don’t think he has anyone else in mind, and now the wars are over he’ll soon have to think of marrying.’

      Lexi’s face flamed and she had difficulty in speaking. After a moment she said fiercely, ‘Don’t you dare! I’m not so short of offers that I have to rely on you to find me a husband, Johnny Rawdon!’

      Johnny shrugged his shoulders and appeared to give up the idea. But Lexi was so worried that he might say something, however harmless, that she began to adopt a much cooler manner towards Richard. Richard was hers, but she was determined that he must come to her of his own free will because he had discovered that he loved her—not because of any nonsense about duty or obliging an old friend.

      So though they frequently danced together when they met at the many balls and routs during that glittering Season, though she even went for the occasional ride in the Park with him, she was careful to refuse more of his invitations than she accepted. It was very hard. With every day that passed she fell more in love with him. Even in a crowded ballroom, dancing a formal dance with the rest of the world looking on, she felt a secret harmony between them, which no other man could ever begin to match. The world saw and respected Richard as the heir to an old and wealthy family, a distinguished soldier, a man of honour. But Lexi knew that part of him which the rest of the world did not see, hidden as it was behind his air of aloof courtesy—his wry sense of humour, his compassion, and his vulnerability. And the more she loved him for it all, the harder she worked to hide the fact.

      One warm evening Johnny took them all out to Vauxhall Gardens. Lady Wroxford was content to sit in one of the booths, gossiping with her friends, and she made no objection when Richard took Lexi off for a set of dances. But then, instead of joining the dancers, he asked Lexi if she would prefer to walk about the gardens for a few minutes instead. The evening was warm and the dance floor crowded. A few minutes in the peace of the gardens with Richard was very tempting, so Lexi gave way and they walked in silence along the lamplit paths for a minute or two. Then he stopped and said quietly,

      ‘Have I done something wrong, Alexandra?’

      ‘Wrong?’ Lexi turned an astonished face towards him. ‘This evening? Of course not!’

      ‘Not this evening. But…’ he hesitated ‘…in general.’

      Lexi grew cautious. ‘What makes you think that?’

      ‘You seem to have changed. Recently I have the impression that you are…wary, in a way you never were before I went into the Army.’

      Lexi bit her lip. ‘We’re both older, Richard…’ she said slowly.

      ‘But we’re surely still friends? Shouldn’t the past still count for something? Do you know, in Spain, at night, after a hard day’s fighting, I used to lie and look at the stars, and think about the days at Rawdon when we were children. The pictures I conjured up then helped to keep me sane amongst all that blood and noise and killing. You were always part of them. I used to imagine the way you looked, remembered your laughter, the way you