Her Secret Scandal: A Regency Romance (Secrets in London Book 1) Page 7

  The sounds of Helen shouting at Mary for tearing the hem on her new gown could be heard through the bedroom door. “A wealthy relation offering to take you away from this? And yet you haven’t begun writing your assent?” Charlotte asked in wonder.

  Alexandra tried to explain the matter as delicately as discretion would allow. “My cousin’s family and I had a disagreement after my mother passed. A legal dispute. She and I haven’t spoken for nearly a year, and now she invites me, and yet I know her brother wouldn’t approve.”

  “That is difficult. I would hate to see you put in a situation in which you were uncomfortable. However, is it possible your cousin is genuinely trying to put the past behind her? If you can trust her intentions, I think you should go,” Charlotte said decidedly. “It will help lift you from this gloom you’ve been in the past few months. Don’t deny it,” she added when Alexandra tried to counter. “You’ve been thoughtful and solemn more often than not ever since you and Henry broke off your acquaintance. A change of scenery will do you good. As to your cousin, if circumstances should prove unpleasant, why, it would be no matter for you to return here a little sooner than intended. Your cousin is letting a home at such a convenient distance, after all.”

  Alexandra noticed one glaring hole in the scheme. “And her disapproving brother?”

  Charlotte shrugged her elegant shoulder. “Her disapproving brother doesn’t know. If you’re awaiting permission, there. I give you my leave. Go.”

  Alexandra laughed. “All right, all right. For your sake, I shall.”

  “Yes, for my sake you shall have to bear with the delicate foods, elegant company, and fine parties your cousin is sure to provide.” Charlotte’s eyes twinkled at the thought. “And yet somehow, I think you’ll survive.”

  Alexa dispatched a letter to Mariah that same day and soon the matter was arranged between the two of them. They determined Mariah should be the one to write to Mrs. Godersham and assure her of the suitableness of such a plan—and to guarantee her she would still be compensated for Alexa’s room in her boarder’s absence. A date was set a few days hence when servants and a carriage would arrive to transport Alexandra and her few possessions to Mariah’s residence.

  Chapter 12

  “Oh dear,” Mariah said, once Alexandra had arrived at the fashionable lodgings on Grosvenor’s Street with her few belongings in tow. “This is a right mess, isn’t it?”

  For one brief, horrifying moment, Alexa wondered if she’d been tricked or if Mariah had changed her mind already. But Mariah had something else in mind. “Is that all the clothing you possess?” she asked, indicating Alexandra’s measly trunk.

  Alexandra restrained herself from remarking that, had she not been tossed out of her home and sent to a cramped boardinghouse, she would have still had a very respectable wardrobe. She was already beginning to regret her decision to come here. Over the course of this visit, Alexa was sure to be constantly confronted by reminders of what she had lost.

  She thought Mariah looked much as she ever had, only more finely dressed than when she had been merely a clergyman’s daughter and not heiress to Peverton. Her thin face still bore the complexion of cream, without a freckle in sight. Her pale blond curls were artfully arranged, giving her hair the appearance of much more body and luster than it normally had.

  Mariah eyed Alexandra thoughtfully. “I would offer you my own gowns to wear, but I don’t think you’d fit any of them.” Mariah was three inches shorter than her cousin and her body was as straight as a stick. Her poor corset struggled to push what little of a bosom there was out for display. “I suppose we’ll just have to go shopping.” Her eyes gleamed and she clapped her hands together. “It’ll be ever so fun.”

  Alexandra’s cheeks went pink from embarrassment. “My current wardrobe has done me nicely for the past year. I think it will suffice.” Besides, she didn’t have any money to spend on frivolous gowns merely to suit her cousin’s ego.

  Mariah brushed that aside. “Hush. Don’t be silly! I’m going to parade you to my friends all across town, so we must have you looking your best. Would you rather be laughed out of polite society before you’ve even been introduced? Besides, Edmund left me a nice purse full of banknotes and I’ve no other way to spend so many on my own. It’ll be fun; you’ll see. And after we go to the seamstress, we’ll get ourselves some cakes at one of the shops along the way. Doesn’t that sound delightful?” Mariah was going on and on, caught up in her schemes, just as she had always done when they were children.

  Alexandra, sensing her objections would go unheard, decided to give in. And so it was that the next several weeks were spent in a flurry of shopping, with a few morning calls thrown in for good measure. Mariah was holding off on introducing Alexa to the majority of her acquaintance, though, until her wardrobe had been completed. She didn’t say as much, but Alexa had the sneaking suspicion Mariah’s real aim here was to make her a match with one of the young men she knew.

  Because she knew she’d face a torrent of opposition were she to say anything against the idea, Alexandra just kept her mouth shut. But she knew full and well that marriage was not something in the cards for her. She’d had firsthand experience proving that fact.

  * * *

  Finally, after Mariah determined that Alexandra’s wardrobe was sufficient, she declared her cousin suitable to mingle in polite society once again.

  Alexandra had to tamp down her annoyance when her cousin made little side comments like this. After all, Alexa may have spent the past year in a boardinghouse, but she had been raised a gentleman’s daughter. Granted, she had spent most of her life in the country and had never had a London season like many young ladies did when they were first out. But her family’s acquaintance in Crosby had been very fine people, and even the young women at Mrs. Godersham’s were all perfectly respectable young ladies.

  Well, most of them. She wasn’t sure that moniker applied to Helen.

  Every morning for the next week, Alexandra would don a new morning gown and go out with her cousin to make calls on her varied acquaintance. In the evenings, they were invited to a different home each night for supper. Although the varied society was a welcome change of pace after spending so much of her time surrounded by the same four women every day for the past year, she found herself already growing weary of the busy social calendar by the end of that week. Even at Peverton, she had not been used to so much socializing.

  Fortunately, Mariah soon seemed satisfied that Alexandra had been introduced to everyone of import she knew in London. Alexandra had wondered whether, over the course of these many visits, she might run into one of her old friends from Crosby. Considering she had very assuredly cut off all her old acquaintance when she had left her old life last year, Alexa found herself feeling very relieved that she hadn’t run into any of them yet. With continued good luck, she wouldn’t come across anyone she knew in her limited stay with Mariah.

  * * *

  About two weeks after she had come to Grosvenor Street, Alexandra begged off that morning’s social calls. She hadn’t seen Charlotte since leaving Cheapside, and she already missed her friend dearly. So after Mariah left in the carriage, Alexandra took off by foot down the streets to the boardinghouse. It was a long distance, but Alexa reveled in the solitude. Her cousin had reluctantly offered to drop her at the boardinghouse before continuing on her own plans—Alexa suspected Mariah was loath to be seen anywhere near the unfashionable Cheapside area of London—but Alexa had assured her that wasn’t necessary. The exercise would give her a chance to clear her head. As she walked, she mused over the strange circumstances that had brought her to this point in life.

  What a difference a few months made. When she had first arrived in London, she had been such a timid, inexperienced little thing. And now, she was perfectly at home navigating the city’s streets on her own. Alexa made a pretty picture as she walked, her dark curly hair, shapely body, and tanned complexion (no matter how carefully she avoided the sunlight) catc
hing the eye of many a passing gentleman.

  Alexandra didn’t notice their attentions, however. Her mind was fully occupied with all the absurdities and entertainments of the past few weeks that she would share with Charlotte. She was so wrapped up in these thoughts that she failed to notice the path she took until she stood straight in the middle of Hyde Park.

  It seemed as though her legs had taken her there without conscious thought on her part. Hyde Park had become irreparably associated with Henry Northam in her mind. Although she had done better at blocking him from her thoughts of late, she still wasn’t interested in fanning the flames of her self-pity in that regard. Unfortunately, standing in the park now brought all her repressed memories of Henry to the forefront of her mind. She wondered whether he might even be here in the park, right now. Being as Alexandra wasn’t looking for a reunion with the man who had broken her heart, she quickened her pace.

  The boardinghouse’s familiar sign comforted her as she neared it: Mrs. Godersham’s Rooms for Respectable Ladies. As Alexandra’s knock on the front door went unanswered, she decided to let herself in. Down the hall, she could make out Mary and Helen gathered suspiciously just outside the drawing room. They were crouching against the wall, trying and failing not to look as though they were eavesdropping.

  “Hello, Alexa,” Mary said in a whisper as she approached the two girls. “Welcome back.”

  Alexandra chanced a glance through the drawing room’s open door. A squat, older fellow who looked very familiar was sitting in the drawing room next to Mrs. Godersham. He had a teacup raised daintily to his mouth, while Mrs. Godersham giggled girlishly at something he had said.

  “Who is that gentleman?” Alexandra asked the two younger girls in a whisper.

  Helen didn’t spare Alexa a glance as she responded. “Don’t you remember that vile Mr. Cogsworth from the ball? We all thought Mrs. G was trying to arrange a match between him and one of us, but now we see that wasn’t the case. She wants him for herself, the sly old thing.”

  “I would rather I never married than be trapped with someone like that,” young Mary declared solemnly. Mary was a sweet girl, if a terrible piano player, but she suffered from a weak disposition that allowed her to be always swayed by stronger personalities. Unfortunately for her character, it usually was Helen who influenced her the most.

  Beautiful, rude, and selfish, Helen’s main dream in life was to be married to a wealthy, handsome earl or duke. A knight would make do in a pinch if he were sufficiently wealthy. Most of her time was spent flirting with men and gossiping about other women. Alexandra hadn’t let go of her fervent hope that Helen’s dreams would soon be fulfilled and she would find herself married off sooner rather than later.

  “Well whatever the case, we shouldn’t stare. Come away from the door, you two, and leave them some privacy,” Alexandra intoned. Mary reluctantly followed her order, but Helen simply ignored her.

  “If they had wanted privacy, they should have shut the door. Now hush, Alexandra. I think Mr. Cogsworth is trying to tell some sort of lack-witted joke.”

  With a shrug and a sigh, Alexandra left Helen to her nosiness—being first certain that Mary left with her. Helen was a lost cause, but there was still hope for Mary to unlearn these bad habits.

  Later, Alexa and Charlotte laughed over the scene while the two of them walked along one of their favorite paths near the Thames river.

  “As much as I try not to encourage Helen in anything, she’s right,” Charlotte said. “Mr. Cogsworth has been by three times in the last two weeks. Ostensibly he is asking Mrs. Godersham for advice on hiring now that his cook has left. But I think he really does fancy her.” Her eyes sparkled with relish at the gossip. Although Charlotte pretended to be prim and proper in front of most people, as befitting her 31 years of age, she had the most mischievous sense of humor in private.

  The two friends spent the remainder of the afternoon catching the other up on the latest happenings in each of their lives. Charlotte was green with envy at the thought of Alexandra’s new wardrobe, and she was sufficiently satisfied that Mariah was being honest about her true intentions toward Alexa. It was a pleasurable visit on both sides, and Alexa returned to her cousin’s home in Mayfair only after pledging that she would contrive a way to invite her friend over for an evening party at some point soon.

  The trick would be in convincing Mrs. Godersham. Their proprietress had rather strict rules about an unmarried young lady’s social schedule. As such, she forbade her charges from going out past dark unless it was on one of the rare occasions where Mrs. Godersham herself agreed to be a chaperone. That was a thorny problem, no doubt.

  Chapter 13

  Henry Northam rushed down the London sidewalk, dodging groups of giggling girls who turned around to look at him as he passed, families out on errands, and gentlemen on the prowl. Even in the winter, this part of town was so crowded that it was faster to walk than to try to get by on the streets in a carriage or by horseback. He felt thankful the sun was shining and the roads were relatively dry today.

  He stopped in front of a pair of wooden doors painted a bright cherry red. Brushing his dark hair back from his eyes, Henry went inside. As soon as the doors shut behind him, the sounds of life from the city outside grew muffled, leaving him in silence. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust in the dark entryway after being out in the bright sunlight, but he made his way down the hallway assuredly anyway. Henry had been here many times over the past few years. Outside one of the rooms branching from the hallway was a plaque inscribed with the letters F. M. Jameson, Barrister.

  Inside, Mr. Jameson sat behind an enormous desk, mounds of books on one side and piles of papers on the other. The older man looked up as Henry entered the room. “I’m glad you’ve come today,” he said by way of greeting. “I need your help to determine which opening I should use in my trial tomorrow. I’ve narrowed it down to two options.”

  Henry had spent the past three years studying the law and assisting Mr. Jameson with his trial preparations. The older man had given him invaluable introductions to all the senior members of the court, the men who would one day very soon decide whether or not Henry belonged among them. If the older man had noticed that Henry had thrown himself into his studies more fervently than ever over the course of the last few months, he had never mentioned it.

  Up until now, Henry’s parents had reluctantly been treating his studies with Mr. Jameson as an unfortunate hobby. Appearances were everything to the Northam family. One had to have the best connections, the most elegant friends, the latest fashions in order to be approved by Mr. Northam, Mrs. Northam, and George Northam. But Henry was nearing the end of his term with Mr. Jameson, upon which time he would be called to court, hopefully, to present as a real barrister. How his parents would react in that instance, he couldn’t imagine. Surely they wouldn’t go so far as to disown him, he thought, but he would have to face a reckoning of some sort. He knew that.

  Many hours later, Henry returned to his home, arms laden with new tomes to brush up on. After work, he and Mr. Jameson had gone out for a meal with some of the latter’s court colleagues, discussing the minutiae of British law over rare steaks and glasses of port. He was grateful for the distractions. His thoughts had turned to Alexandra less often of late, but painful memories were sure to press upon him anytime he found himself unoccupied.

  So Henry did his best to ensure he was kept as busy as possible.

  Chapter 14

  “Do you mean to tell me you’ve never yet been to the theater?” Mariah asked her cousin, openmouthed. She had been telling Alexandra of a recent production she had seen. They were just finishing up breakfast and Alexa could make out the last bites of scrambled eggs Mariah had been eating still in her mouth. She turned her eyes to the teacup in her hands instead.

  “Well Crosby never offered such entertainments and I’d never been to town until—” until Edmund threw me out was what she had been going to say. She stopped herself howeve
r, and Mariah didn’t seem to notice the pause. “—until last spring. I told you, Mrs. Godersham is a very strict woman.” And besides, Alexandra wasn’t entirely sure she would have been able to afford the tickets, had they been allowed to attend.

  Mariah brightened. “Well then, I must take you. Oh yay! This shall be such fun. The London opera is an experience you won’t find anywhere else.”

  This was one of the rare instances Alexandra found herself matching her cousin’s enthusiasm. Their evening plans were soon decided: they would gather up a party and watch The Marriage of Figoro together. Mariah spent the rest of the morning securing the necessary seats at the theater and sending notes around to all her friends, inviting them to join.

  Alexandra left her cousin to it and went upstairs to her bedroom. For the past few months, Alexandra had been trying her hand at writing poetry. At first, her attempts had come out as imitations of her favorite poets. But now, she felt like her words were starting to take on a shape and rhythm that was all her own. She sat at her writing desk and pulled out a few sheaves of paper that held her latest venture. The pages were filled with crossed-out words and scribbles all around the stanzas.

  She had never been inspired to write before moving to London. She had always preferred playing music or reading, but now she found herself eager to get her emotions on the page. And if the words didn’t come quite as easily as playing the pianoforte did, well, she just needed a little more practice.

  Alexandra took up the poem she had been working on for the last few weeks. It still didn’t sound right to her ears. Her metaphor of the robin returning to its old nest after it had once left was falling flat. She remained lost in her work until Mariah poked her head in the room. Although she was already wearing a white and pink evening gown, her blonde hair was still undone.