So, swept along by a tide of siblings anxious to hear of her adventures and eager to share theirs, Alex was soon ensconced in the library with tea and biscuits at her side, listening to complaints that lessons had not been nearly so interesting since she had gone, that Cook had scalded her hand and been unable to use it for two days, that Farmer Tumble's pigs had broken out of their fence and taken a great deal of time and effort to catch, and caused much damage. However, conscious of the fading light, Alex soon excused herself and headed back to the carriage which Ned had kept ready for her.
Upon reaching Mrs. Bates's cottage she was greeted ecstatically by Bessie. "Oh, Miss Alex, it is
that
good to see you!" Then pausing, she continued in a whisper, a grave expression clouding her ordinarily sunny features, "I am afraid Master Alexander is doing poorly. He continues feverish and he is not always aware of the things around him. I did the best I could—we all did, but..."
"I know, Bessie, I know. I am just grateful you managed to keep him alive until I returned. The exposure he suffered 243
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was severe, and what with the life he had been living, it is a credit to you and Doctor Padgett that he survived at all." Alex headed for the tiny room at the back of the cottage where the sounds of labored breathing were proof that the sick man still struggled on.
She paused at the door. "Bye the bye, I was so eager to see everyone that I stopped first at Halewood, where I gave it out that I had left you in the village making a few necessary purchases for me. I have now come to fetch you and to visit some of the tenants."
Bessie bobbed her head. "Very good, miss. I shall remember. I do not think there is a soul who suspects anything."
Even though she had done her best to fortify herself for this meeting, Alex was unprepared for her brother's pathetic appearance. Once a florid, rather hefty man, the Earl of Halewood was a shadow of his former self. The bright auburn hair was graying and lank. Flesh hung loosely on his frame and the high-bridged nose jutted sharply above sunken, pallid cheeks, while the hands that clutched the covers were clawlike.
"Oh, Alexander," his twin whispered, sinking to a stool by his bedside. There was no response. How could he have brought such a thing on himself? she wondered, gazing down at the wreck of her brother. Even before his exposure to the storm, his life of dissipation had made him appear ten years older than his sister. Now he looked positively ancient, as though he were her father or even grandfather instead of her twin.
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Alex had no idea how long she sat in the deepening twilight staring unseeing at the figure in the bed. Bessie stole softly in with a candle and then with a meager dinner, which Alex declined. Finally the man in the bed stirred and muttered. She leaned over. "Alexander?" The eyelids flickered and then opened. The green eyes, so like her own, stared up at her uncomprehending for a moment and then with dawning recognition. "Alex?" he whispered.
"I'm here." Tears welled up in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. There was a rustle in the bedclothes as one hand moved weakly. She grasped it with her own and felt it go limp as something like a sigh escaped her brother's lips. He was so still she hardly needed to feel for the nonexistent pulse to know he was gone. In truth, he had been gone from her for a long time. Her twin had died years ago when the selfindulgent, selfish youth had taken over the adventurous boy who had been her constant playmate. Alex bowed her head and wept, not so much for her immediate loss as for the loss of someone who could have done, could have been so much more. She wept for the spirit that seemed to have been bent on destroying itself and very nearly many others along with it. And she wept, just a little bit, for the life that could have been, the closeness that could have been if he had not grown up into a selfish lout.
At last, wiping her eyes, she rose and went to find Bessie. The maid, seeing it all in her mistress's face, hurried to her side. "Don't take on so, my lady; 'tis for the best, you know. It is a wonder he held on this long, but I expect somehow he 245
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was waiting for you. Come along now. I shall tell Ned to take us home and we'll send for Doctor Padgett." And, sliding the cloak on Alex's shoulders, the maid hurried to call Ned, who appeared instantly to help the two women into the carriage.
All the way home, Alex tried her best to blot out the vision of Alexander, gray, faded, and frail, lying on the bed gasping for breath, and replaced it instead with images of him as a boy, his green eyes bright with mischief and the ready smile lighting his face underneath his unruly shock of flaming hair. These were succeeded by the older Alexander, florid, petulant, frequently drunk, and always selfish to the core. By the time they had reached Halewood Alex was calm, glad that everything had worked out as it had, and relieved that Alexander had been stopped before he had completely brought them to rack and ruin. He had led them to the brink and that was close enough for Alex. She was also thankful to have arrived home in time to spend his last minutes by his side.
It was only as she and Bessie climbed the steps to her chamber and Alex gratefully accepted the maid's assistance in readying her for bed that Alex realized just how tired she was. It had quite a day, quite a journey, in fact, and the soft bed waiting for her appeared most inviting. Alex sank with relief into the pillows. Tomorrow she would face the loathsome Cranbourne and throw his money in his face—odious pig. And tomorrow, her stomach gave a queer little flutter, the major would arrive. Immeasurably cheered 246
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by this last happy thought, she drifted off into a deep slumber.
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Alex woke to the faint rattle of the under housemaid lighting the fire in her chamber. She grabbed for her wrapper and leapt from the bed. Full daylight was streaming into the room. Good heavens, she thought, splashing her face with the water the maid had just brought up, it must be nigh on eight o'clock! Forgetting everything except her wish to settle Alexander's debts with Sir Ralph as quickly as possible, she threw on her clothes with even less thought for her appearance than usual, ran a brush hastily through her curls, and hurried downstairs to the morning room, stopping briefly in the library to snatch up a pen and paper from her desk. Althea was still in the morning room, nibbling some toast and lingering over a pot of chocolate. A liberal sprinkling of toast crumbs and empty plates attested to the former presence of the children. "Good morning," her sister greeted her with a smile. "The children could wait for you no longer and they have gone off to see Ginger's latest litter of kittens before they begin their lessons." Then lowering her voice, she continued hesitantly, "Alexander ... the service ... have you thought any more about it than you did last night?" Alex, in the middle of gulping the fresh steaming chocolate that had just been brought her, nodded. "Yes. And I have decided that, if I possibly can, I shall do nothing until I have repaid Sir Ralph. I prefer to have him think that Alexander is alive, though elsewhere, when I deal with him." 248
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Ally nodded, her expression of distaste a mirror of her sister's. "I quite agree. He is not in the least gentlemanly." But then who among Alexander's associates was? Alex muttered to herself. She set down her cup and, with a resolute dip of her pen into the ink, quickly wrote to Sir Ralph requesting an interview with him at his earliest convenience. She handed it to the footman who, having responded instantly to her pull on the bell, promised to deliver it with all possible speed. "And now"—Alex poured herself more chocolate and leaned back in her chair—"we have only to sit back and await the appearance of his odiousness." Ally's stifled giggle was cut short by Abigail and Andrew, who erupted into the room, each eager to be the first with the news. "Alex, Alex, there is a soldier in the hall," Abigail, who had edged into the room just in front of her brother, announced. "He says that he is a friend of Tony's...."
"But I don't see how that could be since he's not in the same regiment," her brother continued.
"How do you know that?" his younger sister demanded.
"He's a soldier and Tony's a soldier, and..."
"Tony's uniform is red, you silly goose, and the major's is a Hussar uniform and is blue."
"Oh," Abigail replied, crestfallen.
"Never mind, love. I am sure I did not know that either." Ally gave her sister a comforting hug.
"I wonder if..." Andrew began, but all speculation was cut short by the arrival of the major himself. Lord, the man was more handsome than she had remembered, Alex thought to 249
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herself, and it had not yet been an entire day since she had last set eyes on him.
"I hope that you will excuse me for arriving unannounced and at such an early hour," he began apologetically, eyeing the attractive family group appreciatively. Seeing Alex with the light flooding in from the windows behind her, looking the picture of fresh femininity, and flanked by her siblings, it was hard to believe that he had ever known her in London, had ever seen her lazing back in her chair surveying the company at White's with a cynical eye, had ever sauntered down Bond Street with her or watched anxiously as she fought a duel.
"But I was passing through and knew Tony would wish for me to look you up." Christopher stole a glance at Alex, who looked to be faintly amused. She would never have accepted the taradiddle that someone just happened to be "passing through" their little out-of-the-way corner of Norfolk, but the absurdity of it did not appear to strike the others.
"Were you in Spain with Tony, then?" Andrew wanted to know. "You are a Hussar and he's a guard." The major smiled. No flies on this one. The lad was as sharp as his eldest sister. "You are quite right, but quarters are sometimes scarce and we are forced to share them with lowly foot soldiers. Yes, we were in Spain but I did not meet your brother there. I came across him in London, where we talked of old times and discussed what is to come. He has gone off to the Continent already, but he knew I had business here before I rejoined Wellington so he asked me to look you up." The major glanced again at Alex to see how she was taking it. She nodded slightly and smiled. 250
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"You are with Wellington?" Andrew was round-eyed with awe.
"Well, yes, but merely as an errand boy, I assure you."
"What is he like? Are the stories about him true?"
"Whoa, lad." The major laughed, but he could not help feeling touched by the worshipful light in the boy's eyes. "As I say, I am nothing more than a messenger, so I can tell you only what I know of him from a distance, but I can say that there is no one whose orders I would rather follow than his. Soldiers are rather skeptical fellows you know, but they have seen proof time and time again of the soundness of his strategies. If the Iron Duke tells them to do something, they do it gladly, no questions asked. I don't know what stories you have heard. Usually by the time something becomes a story there is not a grain of truth left in it, but if you have heard that he is as honest and hardworking a soldier as you'll ever hope to find, impatient with self-serving politicians, and devoted to his troops, then what you have heard is entirely correct."
"I knew it!" Andrew crowed. "Do you think he'll whip Boney?"
The major was silent for a moment, a grave expression settling over his features. "Yes," he responded slowly, "but it will be a very near thing and many brave men will perish on both sides."
"But Napoleon has only just gathered his army and Tony says that the fellows in his regiment are part of one of the finest fighting forces in the world," Andrew protested. 251
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"That is most definitely true, but there are some equally splendid soldiers on the other side and many of our veterans of the Peninsula are off in America at the moment. There is no doubt it will be a match of Titans."
"Oh, how I wish I were older! Tell me, what is it like? Tony talks about his regiment, but he doesn't say much about the fighting. However, you are in the cavalry, you see everything. Were you at Badajoz or Ciudad Rodrigo?" The major was amused to note that Andrew's younger sister was watching him as intently as her brother. "No." Seeing Andrew's face fall, and hating to disappoint the lad, he hastened to add, "But I was at Talavera and Salamanca." The major was inordinately pleased to see that his reputation rose once again in the boy's estimation.
"You were? Oh please, could you tell us about it?" At this point Alex, knowing her little brother and his insatiable curiosity in such matters, interrupted the barrage of questions. "Perhaps our visitor would like some refreshment and a moment to catch his breath, Andrew." Alex pulled the bell and turned to the major. "I do hope you will spend some time with us, in which case, perhaps you would like to see your room."
"That is very kind of you. I..."
"Oh, please stay," the children chorused, anxious that this fascinating visitor not be allowed to escape before he had regaled them with exploits of daring and glory. Alex could not help smiling at her siblings' enthusiasm and at the major's surprise and pleasure at their unabashed interest. There was nothing as flattering as the admiration in 252
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a child's eyes, unmarred as yet by selfish or self-centered motives of any sort. And, if the major's bemused expression was any indication, such genuine appreciation was a rare and welcome occurrence in his life. "Why, thank you. My business is not so urgent that I could not at least spend the night."