"I can only try," was the cheerful reply. "More than once when we were children I pretended I was Alexander when he was not where he was supposed to be. It shouldn't be any more difficult now than it was then." After all, Alex thought to herself, her brother was no more mature now than he had been at ten, when she had easily hoodwinked his tutor and his groom.
"Well," Althea began doubtfully.
"I can see no other alternative. Certainly I cannot marry that toad Cranbourne."
"No." Alex's sister shuddered. "He is the most odious person alive. How Alexander could associate with such a person I cannot conceive. But, Alex, there must be
someone
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you can marry. Do you not long for a home and a family all your own? I do." Althea sighed dreamily.
"What, when I have all of you? You are more than enough for anyone." Alexandra quirked one delicate eyebrow.
"Besides, I had as lief be alone as at the mercy of some man stupider than I, who, solely by virtue of being a man, would think of me as being his inferior no matter how dull-witted he might be."
"I should not care if I loved him." A delicate flush tinged Althea's softly rounded cheeks. "But you are very different from me, are you not?"
"Yes." It was Alex's turn to sigh. "I wish I had been Alexander's twin brother instead of his sister. Life would have been so much more exciting."
"And so much less comfortable," Althea retorted smiling. Though she could not understand them, she did sympathize with her sister's longings. Alex was too vital, too adventurous to be immured in the country taking care of her brothers and sisters, dwindling into an old maid—though no one as energetic as Alex could ever truly be an old maid. She, Althea, was content to remain in Norfolk forever, overseeing household tasks and taking care of the children, though she did long for a house and children of her own and a husband who would love her and take her to assemblies now and then. But she knew this would never be enough for Alex. To be sure, Alex kept herself busy managing the estate, doing her best to keep them all fed and clothed, but the routine of sowing and reaping, and listening to tenants' complaints was not enough to keep her amused. Alex read voraciously and 22
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sought out intelligent conversation wherever she could find it—usually with either Doctor Padgett or the vicar—but it seemed such a waste somehow. Perhaps this mad scheme to save them from destitution would give her some chance to escape and live the life she longed for. However, Althea was still skeptical about the plan's success. There were so many risks, but Alex was nothing if not someone who loved a risk.
"But how will we go on when you're gone?" Althea wondered.
"Why, you will take care of that."
"I? But I don't know anything about running the estate."
"Don't be silly. Ally. You run most of the household already, and believe me, looking after Andrew and Abigail, which you do so well, is a far greater challenge than seeing that tenants are happy, the sheep are fed, and the field sowed," her sister responded wryly.
As if the mention of their names were enough to summon them, two bedraggled figures appeared in the morning room and made their way quickly over to the fire burning brightly in the grate.
"Abigail, Andrew, what on earth..." Althea raised her hand to her mouth in dismay.
"I'm truly sorry. Ally," Andrew began, "I know you told us to play indoors and we did..."
"But Andrew threw the ball to me too hard and it went out the nursery window so we raced each other to find it," his younger sister continued.
"However, it was hidden under the bushes beneath the nursery window and it took some searching before you were 23
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able to locate it," Alexandra concluded, eyeing the leaves tangled in Abby's golden curls and the mud liberally spattered on their clothes.
"Exactly." Andrew nodded, looking guiltily at Althea. "I know you told me I was to watch out for Abby, Ally, but she was down the stairs and out the door like a shot. I told her not to go out in the rain, but she wouldn't listen."
"Obviously." Althea surveyed the sodden pair ruefully.
"Come along. We must get you out of these wet clothes or you'll catch your death of cold." She rose and grasping a grubby little hand firmly in each of her own, she hurried from the room, leaving her sister to continue working out her plans.
Alex gazed out at the leaden sky. Perhaps her sister was right. This time maybe she truly had lost her wits and was embarking on an adventure too outrageous even for her to handle. But what else was there to do? She could not let Alexander's stupidity and selfishness deprive Althea and the children of their home. Their brother Anthony, off with his regiment, was not as dependent as the rest, but he still needed some sort of home and enough money to keep him outfitted as befitted a captain in the First Guards. Alex was so wrapped up in these disturbing reflections that she did not hear the door open, nor the butler's "A visitor to see you, my lady." When there was no response, Jamison began again, "Sir Ralph Cranbourne..."
"I'll announce myself," an impatient voice interrupted, and Sir Ralph Cranbourne strode into the room. 24
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Alex remained seated, fixing her caller with a cool, unwelcoming gaze. She had always disliked Sir Ralph, with his sly smile and impertinent stare that made one feel as though he were trying to undress one or discover one's most private secrets, or both. His flamboyant dress—bottle green coat with enormous padded shoulders and wasp waist, lemon-colored pantaloons and hideously embroidered waistcoat—did nothing to improve the appearance of a man who would always remain short, squat, and ugly, no matter what his tailor did for him.
"You wished to speak to me, sir?" Alex's voice, if possible, was even colder and more distant than her expression.
"Yes I do. Lady Alexandra. I have a most delightful proposition to make." Sir Ralph smiled greedily at her as he pulled a chair next to hers and leaned toward her in the most familiar manner.
Alex's already rigid posture became even more pronounced. "Proceed."
"As you no doubt know, your brother has been most ... er
... unfortunate in some of his ... ah ... investments as of late. I, naturally wishing to help such a delightful young man, have done my best to extricate him from his financial difficulties, but even I, devoted friend that I am, have my limits. I must now collect the debt he owes me. Loathe as I am to do so, I am forced by some reverses of my own to ask that he repay this rather substantial sum." Sir Ralph reached into his pocket and pulled forth a tattered slip of paper. Dirty and wrinkled though it might be, there was no mistaking either the figure 25
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of one hundred thousand pounds or the signature of Alexander de Montmorency scrawled below it.
"However," Sir Ralph continued, licking his fleshy lips and leaning more closely toward Alex, "I should not like to be the cause of any distress to his family, particularly to such a charming lady as yourself, and I believe I have hit upon a way to solve all the difficulties."
Alex held her breath. She refused to do anything that appeared to respond in any way to this toad—not even breathe, much less betray curiosity of any kind.
"Yes." He grinned, rubbing his hands together. Alex could not help the wave of disgust that washed over her at the sight of the dark hair on the back of his fat knuckles. "I have come up with quite a delightful solution. I have promised Alexander to forget these pecuniary matters in return for your hand. He quite agrees with me that it is time you were wed, and I am a wealthy man."
Very carefully Alex let out the breath she had been holding. With an effort, she controlled the shudder of utter loathing that ran through her. "That is not in the least necessary. You shall have your money." Sir Ralph edged his chair even closer. "Now where would a delightful young lady such as yourself find so much money?" His voice was silky, but underneath the smooth tone there was a hard edge.
He was so close that Alex could smell the brandy on his breath. Fighting nausea, she rose to her full height, noting with satisfaction as her caller also rose that she stood a good head taller than he. "The money need not concern you, sir. I 26
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shall have it for you in less than three months' time, you may be sure." Alex gave the bellpull a desperate tug. Her visitor smirked, refusing to be beaten. "I like women with spirit. They are all the more delightful to tame." It was all Alex could do not to tell the man how despicable, how utterly loathsome he was, but she would not allow herself to be drawn into any sort of exchange with him beyond what she would accord a perfect stranger. To acknowledge her abhorrence of him would be to admit that he had the power to affect her, and she would rather have died than do that.
"You rang, my lady?"
Alex could have hugged Jamison for responding so promptly. "Jamison, Sir Ralph is just going. Be so kind as to show him out." Alex turned her back on him and walked over to the windows to stare unseeingly out over the lawn, vainly trying to dispel the image of her visitor. Sir Ralph was left with nothing to do but follow the butler out. As he left the room, he glanced over his shoulder, the look in his eyes so cold and implacable that even Alex had to repress a shudder. "I shall be back," he called as he walked down the hall, "and believe me, Lady Alexandra, you will be glad to see me."
"Never, you miserable insect," Alex muttered under her breath. "Never!"
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If Alex had been determined to go ahead with her scheme to save Halewood for her family before, she was even more so now that her freedom was at stake. If she failed to win back Alexander's money, she was certain to end up on the gallows—for she knew she was far more likely to murder Sir Ralph than to marry him. In fact, she might murder him anyway. The thought of watching that repulsive smile fade as she plunged a knife into him was exceedingly attractive at the moment. No, Alex, she admonished herself, think of the children. It would be most upsetting for them to have you hung, even for ridding the world of such a scoundrel as that. You must put your mind to more useful areas of endeavor. Shaking her head vigorously to rid it of such satisfying fantasies and apply it to the problem at hand, she went off in search of Mrs. Throckmorton and Bessie to see what they could do about altering her brother's clothes to fit her. She found them both in Alexander's room, where he was sleeping soundly—tossing less, but still breathing heavily and painfully, with an occasional rattle in his chest that did not bode well for the sick man. He did not even stir when Bessie wiped his brow with lavender water.
"I don't like it, my lady." The housekeeper shook her head.
"He's breathing too heavy like and he's terrible feverish."
"I know." Alex sighed. "We are doing all that we can, but he was out in that dreadful weather for so long without even 28
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a greatcoat. However, I have come to ask your help about another matter."
Alex launched into a description of her brother's many disastrous encounters with the Goddess Chance. The housekeeper and maid gasped in horror when they heard the sums of money that had been whistled down the wind—more money than they knew anyone could possess.
"Oh, my lady, what is to become of us?" Bessie's voice quavered. Orphaned at an early age, she had been taken in by Alexandra's mother as a scullery maid at Halewood and the de Montmorencys were the only home and family she had ever known.
"You can help us all by taking the best possible care of Alexander," Alex smiled reassuringly. "I am afraid we are going to have to practice a slight deception on the world that will involve moving Alex to Mrs. Bates's cottage. I shall need for you to go with him and look after him. It will be rather isolated, I am afraid, but you may take one of the dogs for company. Doctor Padgett will call every day and Mrs. Throckmorton will come occasionally, though we do not want to raise any comment. The rest of the world will think you have gone to Brighton with me to visit Great Aunt Belinda. I shall give you whatever books you wish to read so you do not become too bored. Can you manage that?"
"Oh yes, my lady." In truth, Bessie would have thrown her body in the nearby fens if Lady Alexandra had asked her to, so devoted was she. After the Countess of Halewood had died, Alex, noticing the lost look in the little maid's eyes, had begun to pay attention to her, encouraging her to think of a 29
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life beyond the scullery. She had assigned her to one of the under housemaids so the girl could learn enough to advance her position. Noticing how quick Bessie was and how eager to absorb new things, Alex, who was suffering from the boredom of an isolated existence herself, had hit upon the happy notion of teaching the girl to read.
Bessie had been an earnest pupil who picked it all up with the most satisfying speed—so much so that at Alex's suggestion she was now reading to the other servants each evening. Her gratitude toward Lady Alexandra knew no bounds, and she had thought that life could hold no more until Alex had asked her to be her personal maid. The girl had almost expired with joy at being so honored and had been so determined to repay her mistress's kindness that Alex was forever telling her laughingly, "Relax, Bessie, or you will make a helpless idiot out of me. I must do some things for myself or I shall surely die of boredom."
Now the mistress was asking for her to do something truly important and vital to the household where she had been so happy. Bessie's plain face glowed with pleasure and she vowed to carry out her task to perfection or die in the attempt. Then a disturbing thought hit her as she recalled Alex's words. "But however will you go to Brighton alone?"