Rosemary Rogers - Surrender To Love

In time, Alexa’s smiles became genuine instead of forced, so that her dimple showed. Studying her while she listened and laughed over some dry anecdote the Governor related, Sir John Travers reflected that it was in some ways a pity she did not realize how attractive she was—this child-woman he had watched grow up. Had she lived in Europe she could have become all the rage; but with a little more experience and polish, of course. There was the almost unique color of her hair, with its variety of shadings; and the startling contrast of those slate-dark eyes against a pale gold skin of the kind that welcomed the sun instead of having to hide from it. She had the supple, athletic figure of a young Amazon as well, and it was a pity that women’s clothes these days were meant to disguise and conceal every natural curve and line of the feminine body. In fact, the thought that his little Alexa’s free, bold spirit would some day be caged and confined by the stays and corsets of convention and what was supposed to be fashionable was almost intolerable. But perhaps he could do something about it? A challenge, that was what he needed at this point in his life, when all of the vast fortune he had accumulated over the years merely for the fun and adventure of it could not buy him health or happiness or an extension on life itself. A challenge…stimulation…a rescue? And why not? Ah yes, why not indeed?

“Uncle John? I’ve been chattering my head off for the past few minutes, practicing on you, as you said I should do. But you haven’t heard a single word, have you? Did I sound too vapid and inane? Or just too boring to be worth your attention?”

Alexa’s reproachful voice made Sir John chuckle as he patted her arm and said, “Not at all, my dear! Just had a lot on my mind, that’s all; and some of my thoughts concerned you, as a matter of fact. But I see Mrs. Mackenzie giving the signal for all you ladies to retire; so we’ll talk about it later, shall we?”

There was a rustling of long skirts and the scrape of chairs as all the ladies rose in concert to follow the Governor’s wife; and Alexa, reluctantly, had no choice but to do likewise.

As they walked out Mrs. Mackenzie made a point of holding Alexa back for a few moments; her smile kind and almost conspiratorial.

“I just wanted to tell you, my dear, that you’re doing very well indeed, and you mustn’t let being thrown in with a crowd of women intimidate you. Makes me remember my own coming out ball, y’know! I was as nervous inside as you must be, but I didn’t let them see it either. And—ah yes—what I really started out to say was that I don’t want you to think there will be a lack of young men to dance with later on. The dinner was for the pillars of society here, if you know what I mean, but once the dancing begins I’m sure they’ll flock around you like flies—all our eligible young officers and Civil Servants. And we’re to have distinguished guests from at least two of the foreign ships anchored at Colombo Roadstead as well—at least one British title among them! We had some of them to dinner last night; a pity you were too tired to join us. But I see all the ladies watching us curiously, and the last thing I meant to do was to make you feel conspicuous. I only meant to tell you, my dear, that I like you because I can tell you’ve got spirit; and that I want you to enjoy yourself tonight. You’re only young once, after all, and why not?”

Having delivered her speech in a rapid undertone, Mrs. Mackenzie swept a somewhat dazed Alexa ahead of her into the drawing room, where she found herself seated between the Governor’s wife and a milky-faced blonde of about her age who was gowned in ruffles and flounces from her hem to her neck and down again to her elbow-length sleeves.

Charlotte Langford had attended an Academy for Young Ladies in England before her formidable mother had decided that it was time she found herself a suitable husband. And here in Ceylon, where there were not very many blond and blue-eyed young English girls to be seen, she could have her choice of the most eligible bachelors—as long as her mama approved, of course.

Her mama had very decided opinions on everything, and Charlotte had always been guided by her; but in the case of Miss Howard she had not been quite as forthright as she usually was.

“Now remember, Charlotte, that if you are introduced to her I will expect you to keep a detached and Christian viewpoint. You know what I mean?”

“Oh yes! Of course, Mama!”

“Good! And I am trusting, of course, in the way in which you have been brought up and the education you have received back home. It will disappoint me if you should show any signs of being patronizing towards a young woman who has not been fortunate enough to have gone back to England since her birth, poor child. And as for the kind of schooling she might have received, I have no idea of it. But if Sir John Travers is sponsoring her it must mean, I suppose, that at least she is presentable enough…”

“Yes, Mama. But I am afraid I do not quite understand if I am to make friends with Miss Howard or…or not.”

“Oh heavens, Charlotte! Don’t you listen to anything I tell you? If she has been accepted by the Governor and his wife as well as Sir John, I see no reason why you should not make her acquaintance at least. And I’m sure that I can trust you not to…well, not to be influenced in any way your papa and I might not approve of; and to find out for yourself if Miss Howard might prove to be a suitable friend or not.”

“Oh yes, Mama!”

Charlotte had found out long ago that it made life much more pleasant to say “yes” to Mama. Even Papa did so, and he was a colonel and used to giving orders. But now that she was seated right next to Miss Howard, what would Mama expect her to do? The seemingly self-possessed and fashionably gowned young woman who had been able to carry on an animated conversation with Sir John Travers and Governor Mackenzie could surely not be the same person who, according to the gossip that filtered down from upcountry, went riding dressed like a man and hunted wild game in the company of the young officers stationed nearby her father’s coffee plantation without the benefit of a chaperone? Used to her mama’s close guidance in everything, Charlotte could not help but feel rather nervous at being left on her own, so to speak. She was not used to anything or anyone out of the ordinary and had no notion of how to deal with Miss Howard and keep her mama happy at the same time, although she had to admit to a certain degree of curiosity….

Suddenly, taking Charlotte quite aback, Alexa turned to her with a bright smile that Charlotte could not know was pasted on.

“I’m so sorry if I have appeared rude! But this is my first experience of such a formal gathering, and I have not yet discovered what is considered correct and what is not—so I hope you’ll forgive me for introducing myself to you, since nobody else has troubled to do so. I am Alexandra Howard, and you…?”

Charlotte’s mouth had dropped open with surprise at such an unexpected and unconventionally forthright approach, and she could not help but dart an almost desperately appealing look in her mama’s direction before she managed to stammer: “I…Oh, I do hope you will not think…Since we are seated next to each other I should perhaps have made an effort…. I am Miss Langford, you see. Colonel Jack Langford is my father, and that is my mama across the room. I had been quite looking forward to making your acquaintance, Miss Howard, since we have all heard so much about you.”

“Have you? What have you heard about me?” Under straight dark brows Alexa’s storm-cloud eyes gazed with uncompromising directness into Charlotte Langford’s reddening face, never wavering while Charlotte began to stammer awkwardly again, her cheeks looking positively blotchy by now.