"Well, having done my best to encourage you to behave in a rational manner and having met with your usual stubbornness, I can depart with a clear conscience knowing that nothing I can do or say further will persuade you." He shook his head and made his way to the door. "However"—he turned to grin impishly at her—"I shall do my utmost to insure that this mad scheme of yours is no more risky than it need be, and I will keep a jailer's eye on everyone in Mrs. Bates's cottage."
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"Doctor Padgett?" He paused, his hand on the doorknob.
"Do you think Alexander will pose a problem?" Alex asked. For the first time during his visit she looked unsure of herself. Some of the bravado had slipped away and he saw the worry in her eyes and heard it in her voice. "That is, I mean ... do you think he will recover?"
Here was a dilemma. The doctor did not wish to upset her any further, nor did he wish to offer her false hope. Alexandra was not the sort of person to thank him for wrapping up an unpleasant truth in clean linen. He himself was not so sure that they would not be better off without Alexander de Montmorency, who had done nothing for any of them in the past several years except bring them worry and heartache, not to mention leading them to the brink of disaster. "No," he answered slowly, "I do not expect him to recover. He has abused his good health too much. His body does not have the reserves to cope with this last piece of stupidity. But I shall do my very best to keep him alive until you return. That I will promise you."
Alex smiled at him gratefully. "I appreciate all you are trying to do for us, all you have always tried to do. Whatever the outcome, we owe you the utmost gratitude for your skill and"—she tilted her head, a teasing gleam in her eyes—"for your advice, even though it is not heeded." Then becoming serious again, she continued quietly, "I rather wonder if it would not be better for us if Alexander did not recover. If he does, he will only bring us to ruin again no matter how much he promises to mend his ways."
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She shook her head in bewilderment. "I do not know what happened. He used to be the most adventurous, the gayest and best of companions. One could always count on him to stick with one through anything, but something changed when he went to university. After he was sent down, he became reckless instead of adventurous, and without a thought for anything but his own amusement. I hardly knew him anymore and we had been the closest of friends before he went away," she concluded sadly.
That is because you were the best of the pair, the doctor thought to himself. He knew that in truth it had been Alexandra's restless curiosity that had spurred them on in their exploits. It had been her quick mind that had extricated them from most of their difficulties, just as it had been her sense of responsibility that had kept them from doing anything truly destructive. It was she who had been the leader of the two. When Alexander went away long enough to recognize that, he had resented it mightily. Alexander had not really changed. He had always been a heedless lad with no thought for anyone but himself. It was only when he returned and eschewed the companionship and steadying influence of his twin that his monumental selfishness became so evident. The doctor's heart ached for Alexandra as she stood there, the light from the great leaded windows pouring in around her and beyond, just barely visible through them, the lovely old park she was trying so desperately to save. As quickly as he felt it, he banished the emotion. Repining would get none of them anywhere. Alexandra did not need sympathy from him—
she needed help. And she would get it. With a brusque, "Good 42
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day," the doctor pulled open the door and hurried out to his waiting carriage, leaving Alex to gaze pensively after him. Doctor Padgett had been such a good friend to them all. No, he had been more than a friend—almost a father to them after their own father had died, though it was a different sort of fatherliness he had offered. Where the old earl had been ebullient, romping endlessly with Abigail and Andrew, teasing Althea, playing cards with Alex, and riding hell-for-leather across the fields with his oldest son, the doctor had been undemonstrative—almost gruff. But they had known, as children somehow do, that he was fond of them all. While their father had lavished them with presents. Doctor Padgett had listened to their childish troubles, paying as much attention to them and offering advice as seriously as if they had been the most important of his patients. To Alexandra, he had given the greatest gift—that of encouraging her education. The old earl, though a product of Oxford, had spent the bulk of his time educating himself in games of chance, only availing himself infrequently of any opportunities for informing his mind. Nor, settled happily into the life of a country gentleman, did he see the slightest need for anyone—especially a woman—to learn anything beyond the most rudimentary elements of history, grammar, and mathematics.
The doctor, catching Alexandra one day poring over books left by the estate's previous owner, had recognized a mind which thirsted for knowledge. Being a self-sufficient sort, she had done remarkably well at educating herself. Her gratitude at his explanation of a challenging mathematical equation had 43
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led him to suggest that perhaps she might like the vicar to help her with her studies. The look of delight which had illumined the girl's face had sent him straight off to broach the subject with her father.
Though uninterested himself in exploring the rarified realms of intellectual pursuit, the earl had no objection to his daughter's visiting them if she pleased. Thus had begun one of the most pleasurable parts of young Alexandra's life. She was an apt pupil and it had not been too many years before she and the vicar had become fellow travelers in their quest for knowledge rather than master and student. Alex smiled at the memory of the doctor, holding her small hand firmly in his, bearding her father in his account room.
"Alfred, I want you to see that this child is given the education she deserves. I suggest you send for Theodosius right now and see what he can do for her." Her father had merely smiled benignly at his friend's forcefulness and replied mildly, "Very well, Trevor—that is, if Alex herself agrees to it."
She had been almost too excited to stammer her response.
"Oh yes, Papa, if you please, Papa." And ever since then, the doctor had done his best to make sure that she had everything she needed, battling as pugnaciously and tenaciously as a terrier for her happiness. Indeed, with his beetling dark brows and square jaw, not to mention his fierce loyalty, he did rather resemble a terrier himself. Certainly no dog could have been as devoted to her as he had been for so many years. The very least she could do to repay his kindness and concern was to listen to his 44
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advice, even if she did not heed it. The best she could do in this case was to resolve to be as discreet as she could be—if such a thing were possible in the escapade such as she was planning.
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Over the next few days, Alexandra was caught in a flurry of activity and planning, for reliable and devoted as Bessie, Mrs. Throckmorton, and Althea were, there was much to be done, a great many details to be attended to, and all of it with as much secrecy as possible. Alexander was the first and foremost concern, it being imperative that he be moved as quickly and with as little disturbance as possible before he became worse.
Doctor Padgett had left instructions as to how best to transport him most comfortably to Mrs. Bates's cottage and they waited for a moment when he had passed from delirium into exhausted docility before dressing him and carrying him down the entrance hall. From there it was only a few steps to the carriage, the stalwart Ned assisting Alexander's passage in a manner that made it appear to anyone who cared to observe that, despite his being completely castaway, the earl was embarking on a considerable journey.
Later, Bessie made her way surreptitiously to the cottage where Ned had made his master as comfortable as possible. The doctor, stopping to call on Alex after checking in on her brother, was able to report that at least that part of her plan had progressed satisfactorily. The earl was none the worse for his journey, though he was certainly not improved. He remained feverish and restless, tossing and turning, so little aware of his surroundings that it was doubtful he was even 46
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conscious of the fact that he was no longer in his own bed at Halewood.
In the meantime, deprived of the invaluable Bessie, Alexandra was forced to rely on Mrs. Throckmorton and Althea to help her prepare for her transformation into the earl. They worked night and day to alter her brother's clothes to fit her, taking them in at the waist, adding padding to the shoulders, and providing a critical audience as she perfected her imitation of Alexander's swagger and strove to pitch her voice to match his. Hers was rather low for a lady, though considerably gentler and more modulated than her brother's, but it took a good deal of practice to get it to her satisfaction.
"However, as he is foxed a good deal of the time, all I really need do in order to offer a reasonable approximation of his speech is to mumble and sprinkle it liberally with
damns
and no one will be the wiser," Alex remarked as the three of them sat sewing in the upstairs sitting room, which offered the best light during most of the day.
Althea sighed and laid down the shirt she was stitching. "I do wish you would reconsider, Alexandra, for clever as you are, I do not see how you will be able to pass yourself off as Alexander for such a considerable length of time."
"Never fear," her sister reassured her. "I shall be accompanied by Tony, whom I mean to let do most of the talking. I shall confine myself to the gaming tables; contriving to appear as castaway as possible, which should serve me in well. I shan't be paid close enough attention to put my disguise to a complete test, and I shall not strike anyone as being an opponent worthy of serious consideration." 47
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"But it is all so"—Althea searched in vain for the proper words to express her discomfort with the entire scheme—"so very unladylike. I do not mean to be ungrateful, as you know, Alex, but..."
Alex chuckled. "Such a concern would weigh a good deal more with me if I had ever been ladylike in the first place. Now that I have the opportunity to enjoy a masculine existence, I fully intend to do so."
Althea shook her head. "I must say I do not understand you in the least. Why would anyone wish to be a man? Men have to do all the difficult things in life: provide for and protect their wives and children, hunt, go into politics, become soldiers. They cannot have babies or wear lovely clothes or..."
Her sister laughed. "That is one way of looking at it, I suppose. But what freedom they have! They can be anything they wish to be while we, poor creatures, are considered to be fit only for drawing rooms and tea parties, with no greater ambition than to be wives and mothers. I know. Ally, dear, that to you that is the most anyone, male or female, could ask of life, but I, for one, should like the chance to go into politics or off to defend my country. Furthermore, a man can go anywhere he chooses, whenever he chooses. If I even venture into Norwich without a maid or, at the very least a groom, my reputation is likely to be shattered. Take Alexander, for example. He has caroused about the countryside this age, causing no more comment than the odd remark that the young earl is a wild one indeed. I, on the other hand, remain quietly at home and am considered not a 48
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little odd because I do not waste my time haunting the shops in Norwich in search of gewgaws, or gracing the assemblies—
in short, doing all the things that would procure me a husband and turn me into a respectable person." Althea sat silent, a thoughtful expression on her face. What her sister said was true. The gossips in the surrounding countryside were far more likely to comment on her sister's determined spinsterhood than on her brother's reckless disregard for his person or the family fortunes. Why, not a week ago Althea had encountered Lady Meacham and her daughters in the village on one of their never-ending quests for just the right trimmings for their bonnets. They had inquired most politely after her sister, but Althea had not missed the sly, superior smile of Susanna, the youngest and prettiest of the Meachams, who had remarked that it was a great deal too bad to have missed Lady Alexandra at the latest assembly, but obviously Lady Alexandra had no need of such amusements. The deceptively sweet tone of commiseration had not been lost on Althea, who had no trouble in interpreting its implication that she was unfortunate to be related to someone who was odd enough to run the risk of becoming an ape-leader.
Though she herself adored the dancing and the sight of lovely gowns and men in evening attire, Althea did understand her sister's objection to the petty gossip and tedious conversation to be found at such affairs. She had thought it terribly unfair that Alexandra was thus stigmatized simply for following her own taste for good company and rational discourse.
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Althea had not missed the occasional whispered comment that it was a sad shame that Lady Alexandra seemed unable to find a husband. She knew how such an attitude on the part of many of their female neighbors must rankle with her sister, who looked to so many things other than marriage for her enjoyment and sense of purpose in life. It was no wonder that Alex found her female status confining, but masquerading as a man? Althea sighed, snipped the thread, and folded the shirt she had just taken in. "Let us hope that no one sees through your disguise and deprives you of your freedom and your reputation."