Her Secret Scandal: A Regency Romance (Secrets in London Book 1) Page 5

  She had acted foolishly, nearly disgracing herself in public, and yet she found she couldn’t bring herself to regret her actions. She glanced back once and saw Henry still standing there, smiling at her.

  When she came upon Mrs. Godersham, Alexa offered a suitably plausible excuse for her absence. The proprietress seemed to accept it, but her eye followed Alexandra closely the rest of the evening. Alexa had hoped to dance with Henry once more, but Mrs. Godersham hurried the party out the door just after midnight, even though the crowd was as strong as ever.

  Helen complained the entire way back to the boardinghouse about their early exit. Alexa, lost in reminiscences of the evening, barely noticed.

  Chapter 8

  Charles Camden, Henry, and George were supping at the home of a mutual acquaintance the evening following the ball. The ladies of the party had already withdrawn to the parlor. The remains of the meal had been removed by the servants and the men stayed behind in the dining room to smoke and drink before joining the women. George and the host, a Mr. Willis, were engaged in a spirited argument over snuff boxes at the other end of the table.

  Charles took this opportunity of relative privacy to lean over to his friend, dark blond hair spilling into his eyes as he said quietly, “It’s been quite some time since I’ve seen you looking so pleased with yourself, Northam. It wouldn’t have anything to do with the lovely young lady you danced with last night? What was her name? A Miss Alexandra something? A pretty little thing. If you tire of her, I may try my hand.”

  Henry tamped down the surge of irritation he felt. He knew Charles well enough to recognize when his friend was jesting. But by God, when Henry thought back to Alexa last night…when he had seen her flushed, chest panting from the effort of dancing, it had taken everything in him not to push her against the wall and claim her mouth right then and there, in front of everyone.

  All Henry said though was, “Whatever happened to the last woman you were pursuing? The one you said was putting up a challenge?”

  Charles scoffed. “I begin to think she was the one sporting with me. I’ve finished with her.” His expression grew serious. “But you’re evading. Tell me you’re not truly considering a pursuit of your young lady friend? She’s handsome, I’ll grant you, but does she have any connections? Any fortune? You must be rational,” Charles continued stubbornly, though he could sense Henry’s growing distaste to this line of argument.

  “Camden, aren’t you the one who told me to find myself another woman to fix my mind on? Jane had both fortune and connections and you well know how that ended up. This is the sort of reasoning I would have expected from George or my parents,” Henry said. “Not from you.” He tried to lighten the mood. “At any rate, as of now, I have no claims on her, and she none on me. So let’s change the subject, I’d much rather hear about your romantic troubles than my own.”

  “Then you’d better pour yourself another glass of brandy,” Charles said with a grin. “Mine are many indeed.”

  * * *

  Alexa woke up sweaty and disheveled. Her dream had relived the dance from two evenings before, but she and Henry had done much more than touch hands in her sleep. Their interrupted kiss had been recreated, with his lips traveling down her neck to her bosom, and lower…Her body ached with want.

  She had hoped she would see him yesterday to visit her at the boardinghouse, although she wouldn’t admit to herself that she longed for him to propose. He clearly cared for her though—could it be possible that he even loved her?

  Foolish thoughts. Her mind had become addled by the dancing; her head would be much clearer if she could see Henry in person. Alexandra got dressed with a scheme in her mind. She would visit his favorite park; perhaps she might run into him there. Decided, she set off downstairs.

  “I think I’ll take my walk a little early this morning,” Alexandra told Charlotte casually, as her friend was finishing up breakfast. Mrs. Godersham had left early that morning for an appointment and since she wasn’t there to critique them, the other ladies had taken the opportunity to break their fasts a little more leisurely than normal. Helen wasn’t even awake yet. For her part, Charlotte was still in her dressing gown and her hair was undone. Alexandra, on the other hand, was fully dressed and ready to head out the door.

  “Not to worry though,” Alexa continued, adjusting her bonnet. “I’ll return in time to accompany you to the milliner’s this morning, as we’d planned. I know you’ve been wanting to look over the new arrivals. You don’t mind, do you?”

  Charlotte’s sharp eyes noticed the book her friend clutched in her hands and she smiled. “Not at all. You’ve only permitted me to be even lazier than I have been already today. Enjoy your walk. And pray, say hello to Mr. Northam for me,” she added mischievously.

  Alexandra’s cheeks turned scarlet. She glanced around quickly to ensure none of the other girls were in earshot.

  Charlotte knew she had guessed correctly and airily pressed on. “He is charming, isn’t he? What spirited manners he has! And a most excellent dancer.”

  “Stop teasing me, Charlotte. What if someone were to hear you?”

  “Then they would only hear spoken aloud what they’ve all likely conjectured already. Except for Althea,” Charlotte amended thoughtfully. “I doubt Althea would notice if Northam walked in and embraced you right in front of her.” Alexandra went, if possible, even pinker, and Charlotte finally took pity. “All right, I’m sorry. Don’t be embarrassed, Alexa. Your secret is perfectly safe with me,” Charlotte said gently.

  “We’ve had such a short acquaintance,” Alexandra said, trying to convince herself. ” It’s impossible to know one’s feelings in such a time.”

  “On the contrary,” Charlotte said. “My own parents were engaged after meeting but once. Although,” she added thoughtfully, “perhaps they shouldn’t be held up as an example of the benefits of a short courtship since they were hardly a model of conjugal bliss.”

  Alexandra sighed. “You sport with me, but you’re correct. I confess I do like him. He has such a generous mind and—oh—he makes me laugh so, Charlotte. But,” she said firmly, “it’s foolish to get my hopes up. He’s shown me no special preference. And even if he had, our circumstances make a match impossible between us.”

  “I hate to contradict my friends, but I think he’s shown you a great deal of preference. Why, Alexa, didn’t you see the way his eyes lit up the moment he saw you the other night. However I shan’t attempt to convince you if you dislike it,” Charlotte said, catching hold of herself. She had very quickly discerned her friend was a novice in matters of the heart. And just because Northam liked Alexa didn’t guarantee he would make her an offer; many a man had taken pleasure in sporting with a pretty face, only to discard her once a more eligible (and wealthy) match came along. She shouldn’t be complicit in raising her friend’s hopes.

  * * *

  Alexa walked along the path to the park, alternately feeling optimism rise in her chest and then plummet down again.

  If he cared for her, why hadn’t he come to see her again?

  Her heart fell and footsteps stalled.

  But the look in his eyes. No one had gazed at her like that before.

  Her pace picked up again.

  On and on it went for the twenty minutes it took her to walk to the park. Just before the turning into the garden, Alexa saw something which drove all thoughts of Henry from her mind: Edmund and Mariah Morland were there, right in front of her looking at a display window. Suddenly Alexandra’s heart was pounding for a very different reason.

  When had the two arrived in London? Of course they wouldn’t have felt a need to inform her of their arrival. They hadn’t communicated for months, not since that fateful day Alexa had boarded a carriage bound for London, when she had said goodbye to Peverton once and for all. The only way she had even known they were still alive was that someone had been paying her rent at Mrs. Godersham’s.

  If she had her wits about her, Alexa would have du
cked away or turned her head to avoid being recognized, but she was so frazzled she could do no more than stare at the pair of them. A passing man shoved Alexandra rudely as he hurried on with his day’s tasks. The slight “oof” that escaped Alexa at the contact was enough to make Mariah raise her glance from the shop window they had been transfixed on. A slight widening of the eyes was proof that she had immediately seen and recognized her erstwhile cousin. She bent her head to whisper something to her brother and he too turned to stare at Alexa.

  For her part, Alexandra felt as though she had no strength left in her legs. Seeing them had immediately transported her to those horrible few weeks after her mother had died. The memory of all she had lost was once again fresh in her mind.

  The pair began to make their way toward her. “Alexandra,” Mariah said when she got near enough, half lifting her arms as though to embrace Alexa before thinking better of it and dropping them to her side again. “It has been too long. I told Edmund we must run into you at some point now that we’re in town.” Her gaze softened. “You’re looking well.”

  Foolishly, Alexa felt self-conscious of the gown she wore and the way she had dressed her hair. Hoping to meet Henry, she had taken extra care to dress herself, but now that she was in front of Mariah, who was impeccably dressed at the height of fashion, Alexa thought she must appear drab and homely by comparison.

  Edmund did not look pleased to see her. The probing stare he fixed her with, as though she were a piece of dust he would rub off his jacket, made Alexa keenly aware of every common, impure thought she had had the last few weeks. “I see you’ve taken to London like a native,” he said in a tone that made clear this wasn’t a compliment. “If nothing else, we can be grateful the respectable Mrs. Godersham runs a tight ship. No chance of you repeating the sins of the mother, is there?”

  “Edmund!” Mariah exclaimed.

  Alexa, too, was shocked he would speak of such matters in public, even if no one of the rushing crowd seemed to be paying their group any mind, unless it was to glance at them with irritation for blocking the way.

  Alexandra decided she had had enough of this awkward encounter. With a curtsy, she mumbled “good day to you,” and strode off before either of the others could say another word.

  She continued walking for another few minutes, her mind so full she didn’t pay attention to where she was going until she found herself face to face with a gentleman’s waistcoat.

  “Pardon me,” she began, her cheeks flooded red with embarrassment.

  “Miss Morland? Are you quite all right?” The man she had run into was Henry. Oh, was she cursed? An hour ago, he had been all she could think of. Now, she didn’t want to see anyone, least of all him, until she’d composed herself.

  “I’m fine, I thank you.”

  Unconvinced, Henry led her over to a bench to sit and rest herself for a moment. She wished he would stop looking at her with such concern!

  “I have only come to return this book to you,” she said as she proffered the borrowed tome. “You’ve mentioned before your love of the gardens and I hoped I would be able to catch you here.”

  “Or run into me, rather?” he jested. His eyes had lit up at the sight of the book. “And did you enjoy it? I would have you keep it, if you did. So you can remember me.” His voice lowered. “Just as I think of you, constantly.

  “Miss Morland—Alexa—I must tell you how I feel. My mind torments me with thoughts of you. After the ball—” his eyes burned a hole into her heart as he spoke, “I knew I needed to speak to you. I’ve only been trying to come up with the right words.” He shook his head. “But instead, here I am making a right mess of it. Put me out of my misery. I know our acquaintance has been short, but tell me you feel some small portion of what I do. Tell me you’ll consent to be my wife?”

  At some point during this speech, he had clasped hold of her hands. At some point during this speech, she had forgotten to breathe. She was on the point of saying yes and throwing her arms around him in front of the entire park when Edmund’s words from minutes ago came back to her: “…sins of the mother.”

  What was she thinking? Henry was wealthy and respectable. Everything she was not. With the certainty of stone, Alexa knew she could never marry him. What if the truth of her mother’s indiscretion were to get out? It wouldn’t be just her own reputation that was hurt then. Henry would be ruined, and he would surely despise her. She wouldn’t even have Henry’s love to comfort her then in that disgrace.

  From total happiness to absolute heartbreak in a moment.

  With tears welling in her eyes, Alexandra withdrew her hands from his. “I cannot,” she said, each syllable breaking her heart into pieces.

  His face fell, but his spirits seemed to rebound. “You don’t love me now, but is there a chance, my dear Alexa? Allow me to prove myself to you.” His eyes, those sweet, beloved hazel eyes, shone with hope.

  “I cannot love you,” she said fiercely, rising from the bench. It was only as she said those words that she realized how much of a lie they were. She did love Henry. With her whole heart. And because she loved him, she had to break his.

  “Alexa!”

  “I’m sorry.” She didn’t bother to look back because if she had, he would have seen the tears streaming down her face.

  Chapter 9

  “Damn it all to hell!” Henry raged as he stormed into his apartments. He had spent the past few hours walking miserably up and down the streets of London in a fog, trying to understand what had just happened.

  Why had he behaved so foolishly? What had possessed him to accost the poor girl out of nowhere in a public park after such a short acquaintance? Was it any small wonder she had refused him? And yet, he had for a moment sensed in her some measure of the emotion his own heart felt…

  “Henry? Is that you?” George called from somewhere upstairs. “Come take a look at my new boot buckles, brother! I’ve heard Beau Brummel himself wears the very like.”

  Henry cursed again under his breath. The last thing he wanted was to speak with his foppish sibling right now.

  His eye fell on the book he still grasped in his hands. A resolution, foolish as it was sure to prove, was brewing in his mind. Without responding to George, Henry spun on his heel and walked back out the door.

  * * *

  Alexandra had returned to the boarding house to find it completely empty. The servants were shopping and the occupants were all out on errands or making calls. As it turned out, Charlotte had determined not to wait for her friend after all. Alexa was grateful for the ability to compose herself away from prying eyes. She sat a long while in the drawing room, replaying the conversation over and over in her head, trying to determine if she could have said or done anything differently. But she came to the same conclusion every time: she had acted in the right.

  Some time passed in this manner. She wasn’t sure how long, but it must have been hours, for the shadows had significantly crept across the floor when she heard a noise that jolted her from her reminiscences. She had just time to dry her eyes before Henry barged unexpectedly into the room.

  “Alexa, I must speak with you.” He looked a changed man already, his face raw and his normally tame hair tousled wildly on his head.

  “Henry,” she looked at him in confusion, her heart pounding. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  Whatever he had been about to say, he stopped. “You’ve been crying,” he said instead. He came to her side at once, crouching near her and lifting a handkerchief to blot the tears that had started to flow once more.

  “I’m fine,” she tried to say, but it was no good. He had already gathered her in his arms to comfort her. She allowed him to do it.

  He drew back after a few minutes and spoke softly to her. “I’m sorry, for startling you as I did. All I ask is for a chance to prove to you how I feel.” Her sobs came in earnest then and she couldn’t stop them, her small frame shaking with sorrow. She shook her head and repeated her words from earlier. “I cannot.
”

  He stood up and began pacing. “And yet you clearly feel something. I can see that you do.” Henry stopped. His face flickered between hope and anguish. “For God’s sake, Alexa! Why do you insist on torturing me so? If you care for me, why not marry me?” Henry demanded in frustration.

  She could think of no words to contradict him. She only shook her head and stared at him helplessly. Unable to take that wide-eyed gaze a moment longer, Henry closed the distance between them in a single stride, lowering his face to meet hers.

  The kiss was rough and demanding, nothing like the easygoing Henry she had gotten to know. She knew she should feel affronted, pull back, but instead she melted into it with a sigh, forgetting herself, her objections, even forgetting where she was, all sensations narrowed in on the feel of his lips against hers, his rough, masculine hand gripping her small ungloved fingers. For a few moments everything was bliss, but the sound of a carriage clattering down the street outside jolted Alexandra back to her senses. Was this what her mother had felt, with her birth father, whoever he had been? Was Alexa’s lack of resistance to Henry a sign that she had inherited her mother’s weakness?

  Alexandra abruptly disentangled herself from Henry’s embrace.

  “Tell me you didn’t feel what I felt just now?” Henry demanded urgently, gazing insistently into her eyes.

  “I did not,” she mumbled, averting her gaze.

  “You lie,” Henry said.

  Alexa straightened herself and met his eyes. “Why is it,” she began, injecting her voice with ice to mask her true feelings, “that men never seem to take a woman’s word at its value? Do me the courtesy, Mr. Northam, of believing me to be a rational creature. I’ve never claimed to hold special sentiments for you of any sort. What I tell you is how I truly feel. Rely upon it.” Her heart pounded wildly, and half of her hoped he would see through her lie, regardless of how disastrous the outcome might be.