Her Secret Scandal: A Regency Romance (Secrets in London Book 1) Page 3
It only took a few more such encounters for Alexa to decide that she really didn’t care much for the other girl. Her only consolation was that Helen, plump with honey-colored curls, was too beautiful to remain unattached for long, public balls or not. Surely some gentleman would fall in love and propose to her soon, whisking her away from here, and then Alexandra could be left in peace.
Before long, several weeks had passed since her arrival in London. In the early afternoons before their evening meal, she and Charlotte got in the habit of taking a walk around the nearby public gardens. Or rather, the two women often intended to take a walk, but more often than not, Alexa would often find herself dragged inside of the shops they passed along the way so Charlotte could examine a bit of colorful ribbon or a new bonnet. It felt like torture for Alexandra to be surrounded by the beautiful sundries she could never afford again. Each item in the shop was like a recrimination for the choice she had made to refuse Edmund.
The evenings passed by the slowest, with only the other four girls and Mrs. Godersham for company. From there, it was an interim of cards, music, or reading until she could politely excuse herself and attempt to fall asleep. She was grateful Charlotte had befriended her or she truly thought she might not have survived. The other girls were all varieties of dull: dull but kind (Mary), dull and mean (Helen), and just plain dull (Althea).
Once a week, Mrs. Godersham invited her friend Mrs. Eliza Carruthers over to sup and spend the evening in their company. Alexa soon found herself of the opinion that Mrs. Carruthers did not improve the quality of conversation much. The woman’s slow, monotonous tone of voice and predilection for moralizing made Fordyce’s Sermons seem interesting by comparison.
Still, having a schedule helped the days pass more quickly for Alexandra. She tried her best not to dwell on the fact that this would be her life going forward. Instead, she kept busy to prevent her mind from filling with unpleasant memories. The nights were the hardest. When she lay alone in her bed, the memories and worries would come and keep her awake until the late hours of the night.
* * *
“I know you disdain shopping, but surely even you must take pleasure in this, Alexa!” Charlotte proclaimed a few weeks after they had begun their walking ritual. Charlotte had stopped in front of a shop on the street. The sign above the door read Harmon and Sons, Specialty Booksellers.
Alexandra felt the familiar flutter in her heart at the thought of a new book and allowed herself a grin. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt,” she replied, holding the door open for her friend.
Inside, the shop towered with columns of leather-bound tomes in all manner of jewel-bright colors. She couldn’t help the gasp which escaped her mouth. They had had an excellent library back home in Peverton of course, but she had never seen something as wild or beautiful as this. There was an electric energy buzzing through the shop which she had never felt before.
The bookseller, a tiny old woman, was occupied wrapping up the purchase of a giggling pair of girls. She spared a moment away to glance at Alexandra and Charlotte. “Be with you in a moment, dearies.” Her face was round and full of laugh lines. Alexa liked her immediately.
Once the customers had left, giggling all the while, the old woman left her perch behind the counter and made her way over to them. “Apologies, misses. Now how can I help you both?” Her kind eyes twinkled merrily.
Alexandra smiled. “Not to worry. We’ve just been occupying ourselves by browsing your excellent selection. I suppose this is your shop, then?”
The woman nodded. “Aye, it’s come to me now. Both my brothers died in the war. ‘Harmon and Sons and Daughters’ wouldn’t have fit on the sign though you see, and it’s too late to change it now anyway. So I’ve just kept it the same.” After chatting amiably for a few minutes longer, the woman left them alone to look through the poetry selection.
Alexandra thought longingly of the number of books her fat coin purse back home could have purchased her. Her parents had spoiled her, and she’d always been able to buy whatever she had wanted. Now Edmund was in charge of her finances, and he hadn’t exactly supplied her with a great deal of pocket money. She knew she couldn’t rely on him to continue to support her anyway, so she really shouldn’t waste her limited funds on a relative frivolity.
Upon her death, Anne Morland had left her daughter a small sum of 200 pounds, which Alexandra had determined not to touch unless there was an absolute emergency. So she had done her best to avoid temptation.
She knew this, and yet Alexa couldn’t resist the small booklet full of William Wordsworth’s best work. It was cheaply bound—no leather here. It was more like a newspaper than a book, but she didn’t care about the cover. No matter how plain the outside, it wouldn’t change the beauty of the words within.
“Do my eyes deceive me or has my friend decided to finally make a purchase?” Charlotte teased. “I suppose I should have brought you here sooner.”
Alexandra hooked arms with her on their way back to the front counter. “Yes, you should have. I’m very cross that you did not. But I think I shall forgive you if you allow me to read that after you finish,” she said, indicating the latest publication by Fanny Burney clutched in Charlotte’s hands.
“How about this? We read it together,” Charlotte said. “Mrs. Godersham doesn’t care much for novels, but I may be able to persuade her to let us read it in the evenings.”
“Even better.”
The storekeeper wrapped up their purchases and the two women left the shop together. Alexa at least left with a heart that felt lighter than it had in months.
“You’re holding that book as though it’s a treasure!” Charlotte laughed.
“Well perhaps it is,” Alexandra retorted. “It is to me, anyway. Oh.” She slowed her pace.
“Is something the matter?”
“I just realized I don’t have my parasol. I must have left it behind in the shop. Although I don’t know why I bother,” she added, grimacing at her tanned skin.
“I love your complexion. However, you had better run and fetch the parasol.” Charlotte brightened. “I had wanted to stop by the milliner’s anyway and look over their new wares. This way I can do it without inconveniencing you.”
* * *
When Alexandra entered the bookseller’s again, Harmon was once again speaking to a customer, a gentleman this time.
“—should have known to expect you by now,” the old lady was saying. “Every time I get my hands on anything about the law, you’re here the very next day. I don’t know how you always sense it.”
The man laughed, a warm sound which filled the shop. “I am very fortunate to have many well-informed friends,” he replied.
Harmon finally seemed to realize Alexandra had returned. “And mistress, back so soon? I hope there was nothing wrong with your purchase, ma’am.” The man glanced her way at this and Alexandra had an impression of a warm, open face and masculine figure.
Then Alexandra started, realizing she had been standing in place like a simpleton and listening in on their conversation. “None at all, I thank you. I merely realized I had forgotten my parasol.” She laughed self-consciously. “I suppose I became so absorbed in looking through your excellent selection that I put it down without thinking.”
“I often find myself doing the same,” the man said, smiling kindly at her. Harmon nodded her agreement, but her attention was quickly taken up by another customer.
Alexandra stared around the shop overwhelmed, trying and failing to remember precisely where she had mislaid the parasol. The man was still watching her, which made her feel far more self-conscious than she would have otherwise.
He strode closer to her. “Allow me to offer my assistance in your search. Between the two of us, we’re sure to find your missing item without delay.” There was a lightness in his eyes that belied the mock solemnity of his words.
Alexa smiled. “That would be most appreciated.”
He bowed. “Then it shall be my honor,
Miss…But what shall I call you, madam?”
She cocked her head. “And must I give you a name? I admit, I’m not from London, but I wasn’t aware it was a custom for strange gentlemen and ladies to exchange familiarities with one another.” The two of them began walking slowly through the rows of books together.
“I’ll admit,” said the gentleman, “that it is the custom for two strangers to be introduced by a third party. However, in this instance, I believe an exception is warranted. After all, this is a dire circumstance.”
“Oh?”
“Yes,” he said solemnly. “I’m aiding you on your quest. Surely, I should know the name of the young woman?” He paused briefly to pull a book from the shelf and glance at it. She felt she should keep walking, but her feet stopped in spite of her. She took up a book herself and pretended to be absorbed as she waited for him.
“So have I made my case?” he asked. She lowered the book to find him standing before her, staring at her once more. He was very close, so she could make out the color of his eyes—hazel brown with swirls of green. She supposed Helen would have found him handsome. Alexa certainly did. He must have taken her smile for assent because he said, “I, madam, am Henry Northam.” He bowed once more.
“Miss Alexandra Morland.” She proffered her hand and he shook it.
“There now,” he said as the two resumed their pursuit. “Doesn’t it feel better to know the name of your co-adventurer? Ah, and what do we have here?” He stopped in his tracks and bent down to retrieve something from the floor. “Is this the missing parasol, Miss Morland?”
She took it. “It is. Thank you. You’ve made my search a very easy one.”
“Is there any other way I can be of service to you?” he said the words jokingly again, but she sensed he meant what he offered.
“You are very kind, sir, but I’ve troubled you enough. My friend awaits me at the milliner’s shop down the street. She’ll wonder what has become of me.” And with that, Alexandra headed to the door. She felt his eyes on her back as she left, and she tilted her head on her way out to find her suspicions were correct. He smiled at her once more and then turned back to his books.
* * *
Henry pocketed his purchases and found himself whistling on the walk back home. He never took his carriage or his horse around town if he could help it. Because he spent so much time at the books, he liked to stretch his legs whenever he had the chance. This was true, and yet, Henry had another motive for wanting to walk home today.
He was hoping he’d run into that lovely Miss Morland again on the way. Alas, he had no such luck. He made it back to Mayfair without running into anyone he knew whatsoever.
There was something about her though; Henry still hadn’t been able to rid the woman’s face from his mind later that evening. The way her full mouth had smiled shyly up at him. Her kind, soft brown eyes. He shook his head and opened to the first page of his new book. He’d become as flaky as Charles soon, if he wasn’t careful, running after every pretty girl who looked him in the eye.
Chapter 6
Several days after the visit to Harmon & Sons, Helen and Mary hatched a plan for the young ladies to throw themselves a picnic in the park. It would have to be simple, since Mrs. Godersham was strict about not using her servants for the personal pleasure of her boarders, and the girls would have to carry all the supplies themselves. To that end, they sought out the help of the older ladies. Althea begged off, but Charlotte and Alexandra agreed. It would be a nice change of routine. So Saturday morning, they helped Cook pack up fresh fruits, soft bread, and cheese in a basket, along with a blanket and some pillows.
“We’ll be quite the charming party!” Helen declared cheerfully. Parasols and supplies in hand, the four ladies made their way from Mrs. Godersham’s. Alexandra felt her spirits lifting as they walked. It was impossible to be miserable on a day like this one.
They settled themselves on a peaceful grassy spot on a slight rise, so they were still able to watch the comings and goings of the others in the park in moderate peace. Helen treated them all to a running commentary on the gentlemen and ladies who passed. “What a fine gown that is! It features the sleeves I was telling you about, Mary.” And “Oh look at that ugly gentleman this woman is walking with. I’m sure I would never have any acquaintance who was as pockmarked as that.”
“Hush, Helen, they may hear you,” Charlotte reprimanded. “Although she’s right,” she whispered in an aside to Alexa a few moments later. “He was remarkably unhandsome.”
After the party finished enjoying the snacks they had brought, and Helen and Mary grew tired of sitting, they wandered off on a stroll down a nearby path. The day was fine and many people were out enjoying the weather, so Helen wanted to see, and be seen, by as many of them as possible. The remaining pair settled on a blanket, Charlotte with a book to read, while Alexandra stared at the clouds passing by in the blue sky. If the rest of her life were to be spent enjoying days like this, it wouldn’t be such a bad fate, she decided.
“Have you ever thought, Charlotte—that is, do you picture yourself remaining at Mrs. Godersham’s much longer? Have you ever considered becoming a governess? Or taking on a trade, like Mrs. Godersham? She didn’t open her house until after she became widowed. It’s only, I hate lacking clarity about the course my life will take.”
“I’m perfectly content here,” Charlotte said placidly. “I have just income enough to keep me housed, as well as occasionally supplied in books and a new bonnet. That’s better than I could ever hope to have from a life as a governess.” Charlotte’s tone grew more solemn. “If a governess’s employer mistreats her, it can be a downright miserable existence. Please tell me you’re not considering such a thing? Surely you’re bound to be married before any such situation would ever need to come to pass?”
“You remain unattached,” Alexandra pointed out.
“Aha, but that’s by calculation,” her friend responded laughingly. “My parents did not have a happy marriage, you know, and I have no desire to repeat their mistakes. Servant or wife, it makes no matter. I have no desire to become any man’s property.”
“And what a fine advertisement for the benefits of matrimony you’re making,” Alexa said with a smile. “I have already determined not to marry. No man would have me anyway, not with my diminished station in life.”
Charlotte grinned wickedly. “You undersell yourself. With your beauty, you could certainly fetch at least a fisherman to take you as his wife.” The two laughed at this together a few moments.
“I know you were surprised by my age when we first met, but I must admit, the more I get to know you, the more I feel surprised by yours,” Charlotte mused, breaking the silence once more.
“Me?” Alexandra smiled, sensing another of Charlotte’s jokes. “And why ever would that be?”
Charlotte didn’t answer right away. “I think it’s because you have a serious disposition. You’re very thoughtful, Alexa, and you don’t run about as some of the other young girls do.” As if to prove her point, Helen hurried past them, arguing loudly about something with Mary. Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Somehow I feel an obligation to ensure they’re both all right. Remain here. I’ll be back in a moment.” And she was on her feet, walking in the direction the girls had gone.
Alexandra removed her bonnet before lying on her back and closing her eyes, deciding to put all thoughts of the future or past from her mind and enjoy the present. She had often taken pleasure from napping in the peace of nature at Peverton, and here in this park was as close to that feeling of contentment as she had felt since arriving in London. Several minutes passed, maybe more, when she heard a male voice.
“Miss Morland?”
She opened her eyes to find the man who had helped her in the bookstore last week. He was staring at her with a small smile on his face. “Mr. Northam!” Alexa sat up rather suddenly. “What a surprise to see you again. How do you do?” She was sure her cheeks were burning red.
“I often come to take a stroll through this park when I am in town. It’s a favorite of mine.” He paused for a moment. “Would you care to join me and take a turn around?”
Alexandra nodded her assent and he helped her rise from the blanket. She hoped Charlotte wouldn’t return before her and wonder at her absence. She and Henry walked for a minute in silence.
“I can see why you favor this park,” Alexandra said, gazing around at the greenery and carefully sculpted flowers. “There is such bustle and business here in London. It’s rare to find a moment of solitude among so many people. A place like this feels like a sanctuary.”
He was gazing at her intently. “And do you often feel a need to seek out solitude here in town?”
She stared beyond him, a little embarrassed. “I—well yes, I suppose I do. But then I live in an establishment for young ladies. I might feel differently if the place I were in was my own home and I were surrounded by those I love.”
“But you’re not from London, I take it?”
“No.” Alexa smiled. “I was brought up in the country, near Crosby. Coming to London was quite an experience for me. For many reasons.”
“You miss the country,” he stated, rather than asked.
“I do. I miss how calm and yet wild it is, both at once. But,” she said, recollecting herself, “no one place can be comprised solely of happy memories. In some ways, being in London has been an escape as well.”
He laughed. “It certainly can be. There are distractions enough here to keep anyone occupied, should they wish it. And since you’re newly arrived, I believe I am obliged to ask you whether you’ve had a chance to visit the theater?”