The Bridegroom's Bargain
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Her godmother did more than just keep her promise. A woman of taste and wealth, she had taken delight in providing her protégée with a wardrobe of beautiful clothes that flattered and enhanced her unusual colouring. Unusual was a word frequently used of Lexi Rawdon. She had learned to control the impulsive ways and hot temper that went with her copper hair, had moderated her careless stride of the past into the decorous steps of a young lady of fashion, but traces of the old free grace and high spirits remained. She was not beautiful in the accepted sense, but her glorious hair and sparkling lavender-blue eyes made sure she was noticed, and her frank, open ways, her wit, her ready laughter, kept a constant supply of admirers round her. The fact that the Rawdons of Rawdon Hall were an old and wealthy family was, of course, an additional attraction. Soon Alexandra Rawdon’s name was on the list of the season’s most sought-after débutantes.
But though Lexi was always polite, she showed an indifference to flattery and admiration that the world found intriguing. The world didn’t realise—how could it?—that Miss Rawdon’s apparent lack of interest in her success was perfectly genuine. Though she was enjoying London life, it was merely an amusement, a distraction, while she waited for one man to return from the wars. Charming, well bred, wealthy, and seemingly not unduly eager to find a husband, Lexi was soon declared to be out of the usual run of débutantes, and most attractive. Before the season was very old she had received several flattering offers.
And she turned them all down. Lady Wroxford expostulated, accusing her of being difficult to please. Lexi listened meekly, but said nothing. How could she tell her kind godmother the truth? That she was waiting for one man to come to London? That only he, and no other, would ever please her?
Then at last Richard and Johnny arrived. They came back from Spain, bronzed, fit, no longer boys, but men, toughened by their experiences on the battlefields of Spain, and confident of their power. But to her they were still dear, still two of the three most important people in her world. For a few short months the future looked brilliant.
The spell of these happy memories was broken, as the door opened and Lexi was brought back from the past to the bedroom at Channings. Someone came in. It was probably Murdie, Lady Honoria’s maid, come to take her mistress’s place.
‘Alexandra?’
Not Murdie. Richard. No one else ever called her Alexandra in quite that way. Besides, she would know his voice anywhere, deep, calm, sometimes tender. Even though her own eyes were closed, she felt his grey eyes examining her, speculating… Her heart started thumping, but she held herself still, pretending to be in a deep sleep.
‘Alexandra, open your eyes. We must talk.’
Why could that voice still enchant her? The temptation to do as he said was almost irresistible, but she couldn’t, wouldn’t give in. Why didn’t he go away?
‘Did my aunt upset you again? She’s old, Alexandra. She can’t understand…’ His voice had a wry sort of humour in it as he added, ‘For that matter, nor can I. But I’m not as tired or as angry as she is. Don’t let her put you off. You might even feel better after we’ve talked. And sooner or later we shall have to put the pieces of our lives back together again.’
Put the pieces back together again? That would take a miracle! Lexi rather thought they were beyond repair. Still without opening her eyes, she turned her head away from him.
Richard waited for a moment. Alexandra was not asleep. He knew that. But though it was getting more and more urgent for him to talk to her, he was reluctant to force her before she was ready. The events of the past few months had brought her dangerously close to breakdown. He looked down at his wife. Her eyes were still determinedly shut, but the purple shadows surrounding them, and the hollows in her pale cheeks, showed how badly she needed this time of rest and recuperation.
Perhaps it would help to talk of happier times… He sat down by the bed and thought of her as he had seen her in a London ballroom when he and Johnny had come back from Spain in May 1814. The carelessly dressed child he had known in Somerset had turned into a glowing girl, poised and very much aware of her powers. He addressed the still figure in the bed.
‘Alexandra… Do you remember dancing with me in London? Johnny and I had just got back from France after our years in the Peninsula. Napoleon had been packed off to Elba and London was celebrating. Everyone said what a brilliant season it was. Do you remember? London was full of visitors—European royalty, diplomats and couriers, sightseers, and all sorts of hangers-on. There seemed to be far more of them than there were of the soldiers returning from the wars… Johnny and I were two of the soldiers, and I can tell you we felt somewhat outnumbered by all those civilians.’
He paused, but Alexandra gave no sign that she was listening. He went on, ‘I saw you first at the ball in Northumberland House, I remember. Johnny and I had arrived in London not long before, and had come there hoping to find you.’
Richard fell silent. The occasion was still vivid in his memory. He had seen Alexandra as soon as they had entered the ballroom, but it had taken Johnny a few minutes longer. The sight of his sister then had stopped him in his tracks.
‘There she is!’ he had said in amazement. ‘Over there. Good Lord, Dev, she looks stunning! I would never have imagined she’d turn out so well! Just look at her—if you can. She’s damned near surrounded!’ Richard remembered his own feelings as he looked at the laughing girl on the other side of the room. Tall and graceful, her hair twisted into a shining knot on top of her head, she looked completely self-possessed, and quite at home in the sophisticated world of London society. Though the smile was as enchanting as ever, she looked very different from the girl with the mane of copper hair who had stood on top of the stile and tempted him to kiss her almost four eventful years before. He could still remember the scent of that hair as it had brushed against his cheek, still recall the sensations aroused in him then…
‘We’d better go across before she sees us and comes rushing over,’ Johnny had said next. ‘She’s bound to be excited, but it would never do. Not in a ballroom.’
Richard had known Johnny’s sister better than Johnny had. He remembered saying wryly, ‘Alexandra knows we’re here already. She saw us the moment we came in—or very soon after.’
‘What?’
‘Your sister has grown up, my boy! She won’t come rushing over—she’s waiting for us to join her.’
‘Well, I’m damned! Come on, then!’
Now, more than a year later, sitting by Alexandra’s bed in the aftermath of the disastrous episode in the church, Richard was filled with regret. If only his father had been a more reasonable man… He could have asked Alexandra to marry him then and there, and if he had things might have turned out very differently 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 had of wrinkling up your nose, that mane of hair, which was always getting in the way—’ He broke off.
This was so unlike his usual tone that Lexi was at a loss to know what to reply. She said somewhat abruptly, ‘Lady Wroxford thinks I should have it cut.’
‘No!’ Then, seeing her surprise at the force with which he had spoken, he went on more calmly, ‘No. Don’t give in to her, Alexandra. Your hair is one of the things that make you…special.’
The old Lexi would have instantly demanded how and why, and what else made her special to him. But now, though the colour rose in her cheeks, she suppressed the frisson of delight at his words and said with a cool smile, ‘Come, sir! You mustn’t flatter me! Spain must surely have been full of raven-haired señoritas only too willing to comfort you all! I don’t suppose for a moment that you very often thought of your friends in England, not even the copper-haired ones!’
‘I wasn’t intending to flatter! Damn it, that’s what I meant a moment ago! The cool smile, the remark meant to put me off. Why are you treating me as distantly as you do all the others? Surely our old friendship deserves more?’
Lexi said with some feeling, ‘But this is not Somerset, nor are we children any longer. You may still regard me as your little sister, but that isn’t the way Society sees us!’
‘Has Lady Wroxford been talking to you?’
‘Yes, she has. But she said nothing I could disagree with. I have no wish to be the subject of conjecture and gossip.’
‘Gossip?’
‘Yes, Richard! Gossip!’ said Lexi sharply, losing her patience. ‘Surprising as it may seem to you, the world sees me as a young woman of marriageable age who, unless she wishes to set tongues wagging, should not spend too much time alone with one of London’s most eligible bachelors! As I am doing at the moment. And since gossip is the last thing I wish for, I think we should return to my godmother. She will be wondering in any case what has happened to me.’
She started to walk away, but he took her hand and pulled her back. She stumbled and fell against him. His arm went round her and he pulled her closer, his eyes holding hers. A shiver of delight ran down her spine, but she managed to say fiercely,
‘Are these Spanish ways, Richard? Let me go!’
‘Not yet. And they’re very old English ways, my love.’ He bent his head and kissed her.
Since the episode by the stile four years before, Lexi had often imagined what it would be like to be kissed by Richard. But nothing had prepared her for this. She felt as if she was suspended in space; her heart was hammering, the blood rushing through her veins to every inch of her body. ‘R…Richard?’ she said, her voice a mere breath. He laughed and kissed her again, this time more deeply. The kiss went on and on until she thought she would die with the pleasure of it. He held her so tightly, his arms cradling her against him so closely, that she was made aware of his manhood, the strength of his desire, and for a brief moment she responded tumultuously to the new and previously unknown feelings it aroused in her. She put her arms round his neck and held his lips to hers, inviting further caresses….
The sound of laughter nearby brought her suddenly and cruelly to her senses. Full of horrified shame, she wrenched herself out of Richard’s arms and tried to escape, but her legs refused to carry her more than a step or two. She stood with her back towards him, fighting for control.
‘Alexandra—’
‘Be quiet! Don’t say a word!’
‘I must! I had no right—’ He stopped, then began again. ‘This isn’t the time or the place—’ He stopped again and gave a little laugh. ‘At least you know I don’t regard you as a child any more,’ he said ruefully.
No word of love, nothing to show he had been as affected as she had been by what had happened. He was probably well used to such encounters. But what could he be thinking of her? Lexi swallowed. ‘No,’ she said stiffly. ‘I’m no longer a child. And I should never have behaved as I did, least of all with you. Shall we go back to my godmother?’
Richard looked at her searchingly. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Of course I am,’ she said with a brittle laugh. ‘Ashamed, perhaps, but otherwise unharmed.’
‘I’m sorry, Alexandra.’ He stopped and shook his head. Then he said decisively, ‘It won’t happen again.’
Still nothing that she wanted to hear. The pain in her heart was growing by the minute, but pride came to her aid. Concealing her bitter disappointment, she said as lightly as she could, ‘Even old friends can get carried away, can’t they, Richard? Perhaps the world is right after all to disapprove of my spending time alone with you. And now please take me back to Lady Wroxford.’
They went back, and for the rest of the evening he behaved impeccably, not ignoring her exactly, but not singling her out for any particular attention either. No one could have guessed from his demeanour that for a few breathtaking moments such a short while before he had taken Lexi to Paradise and back.
In the days that followed Richard remained just as distant. Lexi was left confused and even somewhat angry. Did he think she was in the habit of allowing men to take her to such a secluded situation, to hold her so closely, to kiss her? Was this what he thought of her? The sole excuse for her disgraceful conduct was her love for Richard Deverell, but it was clear that there was no such reason for the way he had acted. He had not even claimed to love her. Perhaps he had found her earlier coolness towards him a challenge? For whatever reason, he had behaved in a manner she would never have believed possible. Had his time in the Army made him cynical?
She hid her sore heart and bruised pride and sought consolation in the company of other, less complicated, admirers. During the last weeks of the Season no one was as gay, as apparently carefree, as Miss Alexandra Rawdon. One young man refused to listen to her when she assured him she was not interested in his offer of marriage. He was so persistent and so obviously eligible that London began to speculate whether Miss Rawdon would finally succumb. When she assured her godmother that there was no question of it, Lady Wroxford grew really angry with her.
‘Mr Transden has everything to recommend him to the most demanding young lady, Lexi. He may not have a title, but his family is a distinguished one. Moreover, he is comparatively young, in good health, and enormously wealthy. And devoted to you! What more can you possibly ask for?’
‘I don’t love him,’ said Lexi.
‘Love? Pshaw! I have never approved of gambling, and marrying for love is the greatest gamble of them all! Marry for comfort, girl. You can fall in love later, if you want to—after you’ve given your husband an heir or two.’ When Lexi remained silent Lady Wroxford shook her head. ‘I might as well talk to that table leg for all the attention you will pay me, I know. It’s that “old family friend” of yours, isn’t it? You’re in love with Richard Deverell.’
‘Is it so obvious?’
‘Not at all! Your behaviour towards him has been admirably discreet.’ Lexi had a sudden vision of herself in Richard’s arms at Vauxhall and her colour rose. Little did her godmother know! Lady Wroxford went on, ‘But I have no idea what he feels about you—or anyone else. That’s a man who keeps his own counsel, Lexi. No one would guess from his recent demeanour that his father is not expected to live much longer.’
‘Lord Deverell ill? Are you sure?’ asked Lexi in astonishment. ‘I hadn’t heard anything of that, and I’ll swear Johnny doesn’t know either.’
‘Mrs Shackleton told me—she had it from Honoria Standish, who is some kind of relation. It’s a very odd situation. Apparently Lord Deverell refuses to see anyone, even his own son. What sort of father is that?’
‘There was never much affection between them, ma’am. Lord Deverell has persistently ignored his son’s existence. That is why Richard has been so much part of my…of our family.’
‘I see. It might also explain Mr Deverell’s marked air of detachment…’
Afterwards Lexi found that she was badly hurt by Richard’s silence. They had had few private moments since that scene at Vauxhall, but if he had wanted to, he could surely have found the time to tell her about his father.
However, the next day he called to take his leave of Lady Wroxford and her goddaughter. Lord Deverell had sent for him at last, and Richard was leaving London more or less straight away. He would probably not return before the end of the Season. Lady Wroxford expressed her concern and wished him a safe journey. Then she threw a quick glance at Lexi, and took pity on her.
‘I think my goddaughter might well have some messages you could carry to Somerset for her,’ she said, with a smile. ‘You’ll excuse me, I’m sure, if I leave her to give them to you. Goodbye, Mr Deverell.’