Rosemary Rogers - Surrender To Love

It was perhaps fortunate, considering the angrily mutinous trend of Alexa’s thoughts, that Lord Charles’s voice broke in just then.

“I say, Miss Howard, I’ve just hit on a capital idea, you know. That is, if you don’t mind…” Viscount Deering’s rather diffident voice was belied by the almost conspiratorial smile he wore, as Alexa discovered when she glanced at him in an almost startled fashion. She had almost forgotten, in her preoccupation with her resentful thoughts, that he had quite cleverly contrived to be the one to ride beside her when the riding path had become narrower. Until now, barraged by the bright flow of small talk kept up by the others in their party, both Alexa and Lord Charles had remained comparatively silent; and she had almost begun to imagine that he had begun to think of her as being far too provincial and naive to be worth his time and attention. Now, however, his next words belied that fear as he continued with a twinkle in his expressive brown eyes: “D’you think perhaps that this might be a suitable opportunity to practice our French and Italian on each other? I seem to remember your mentioning that you did not have many opportunities to converse in those languages in order to keep fluent, and since I too have the same problem I thought…Do you mind?”

Charlotte had admitted only two days ago, with a sniff, that her mama had assured her that English was spoken everywhere in Europe by the better class of people and that it was quite unnecessary to try to learn some foreign language that might well contain certain words and phrases that were not considered polite in English. So much for Charlotte! And it was even more unlikely that Major Doyle or Mr. Sutherland knew either French or Italian. Lord Charles was being cleverly inventive, and an appreciative sparkle lit up Alexa’s eyes, relieving some of the tension that had shown in her face as she had contemplated the hypocrisy of “good manners.”

“Mind? No! I should enjoy trying out my French and Italian very much indeed, if you will only promise to correct all of my mistakes.”

What a difference it made when she smiled and let that charming dimple show, Lord Charles reflected in a rather fatuous fashion. She was really quite adorable, with a touch of naiveté he found quite unusual and intriguing. If only he could have had enough time to spend with her, and without the constant and vigilant chaperones she was always surrounded by…! He had done nothing but dream of her for the past few nights, and had imagined, when he was not asleep and dreaming, everything he would like to share with her and do with her. Teach her everything. Arouse her virginal senses and take her, step by step, to the knowledge of passion and sensuality. Dammit, she seemed to offer both a promise and a challenge that were almost worth staying for, if only his dark-visaged “cousin” Nicholas would not continue to be so obdurate about leaving in two days from now and did not insist on reminding him that his parents expected him back in England before Christmas. Two days, and he had begun to want her quite badly. Not that Nicholas, being the cynic that he was about women, would give a damn about that, of course! He respected nothing at all—not even the purity of true innocence—and talked contemptuously of normal human emotions and feelings as if they were merely weaknesses that should be controlled and pushed out of existence. Well, the devil take Nicholas and the coldly detached calculation he preached. He, for his part, preferred to enjoy the hedonism of giving way to feeling and impulse!

Yes, why not act on impulse after all? Especially since it was obvious by now that he had not much to lose except perhaps a few hours spent too well chaperoned in her company. Manfully, Lord Charles plunged into speech, hoping he would not have to regret his impulsiveness later, although, of course there were always ways out, weren’t there? He had decided on French to begin with and then switched quickly into Italian when he remembered uneasily that French had become almost too fashionable these days.

“I hope my little ruse did not anger you too much? But if you could only know how much I have wanted to engage in a real conversation with you and to spend much more time in your company without… That is…All that I meant, of course, was that, well, I had very much looked forward to getting to know and understand you much better before…Believe me, I am not usually as tongue-tied as some adolescent schoolboy, Signorina Howard! And—with your permission of course—not quite as boldly precipitous. Please. If I were to beg your indulgence and your forgiveness, could you possibly grant me such a favor?”

And what could Lord Charles possibly be leading up to with such difficulty, for heaven’s sake? With a show of insouciance Alexa answered brightly that of course he had her permission to be quite frank with her, because she infinitely preferred honesty and directness to the polite insincerity that most people practiced. She could only wonder why he felt he had to ask her forgiveness first, as she questioned, “Is whatever it is you want to tell me so terribly bad?”

“For me at least it is. And especially since I have met you. To learn that we are to leave for England within two days, when I have not even had the opportunity to speak with you and meet with you as often as I would have wished…I am afraid that I’m not the kind of cynic my cousin the Spaniard would have me become, and that I cannot help the way I have begun to feel towards you. I admire you and respect you and I wish…Ah, at least perhaps you will believe me when I say I am sincere in my feelings, bella, cara signorina! and that I would give anything to be granted just a few precious moments of private conversation with you so that I could speak to you more freely and with less constraint. To know that you would trust me enough to feel safe and at ease in my company if you should ever…I hope I have not made you angry with me?”

It was perhaps unfortunate that Charlotte, who must have been listening to their exchange with a growing sense of frustration, should have chosen that particular moment to chime in archly from behind, protesting that they really weren’t being fair at all in excluding the rest of the party from sharing secrets. And then, with one of her high-pitched giggles that always set Alexa’s teeth on edge, Charlotte had to add coyly: “Of course Mama has always said that one should try to remember a few commonly used French words that have been absorbed into the English language; but…” with another rather embarrassed sounding giggle this time, “I understand that…Well, at least Mama has always given me to understand that certain reading matter that would never find its way into decent English…Mr. Sutherland has just been telling me that he agrees with Mama that certain books that are published abroad in other languages might be far too easily available, under the guise of literature, of all things, and could corrupt Innocent and Unspoiled Minds. Not that I meant…”

“Oh, but I’m sure I can quite understand Mrs. Langford’s natural anxiety, and she’s right, of course.” Even if she gnashed her teeth mentally, Alexa’s tone was dulcet. “After all, I’m sure that a mother is always the best judge of her own daughter’s susceptibility to certain reading matter! And you mustn’t worry, Charlotte dear, that I will ever tell Mrs. Langford that you have actually discussed such topics with a gentleman. In fact, I shall continue practicing Italian grammar and diction with Lord Charles and pretend that no discussion of improper literature ever took place!”

Charlotte’s only half-smothered gasp and the rather choked sound that Lord Charles quickly turned into a cough came at about the same time, Alexa remembered later. At least he had a sense of humor, she thought, and he was, at the same time, a gentleman. So very much the complete opposite, thank goodness, of his uncouth cousin from California, that panther-eyed adventurer who possessed neither manners nor morals nor scruples either and certainly did not deserve to be received by polite society. Lord Charles, on the other hand, was entertaining, polite and obviously sincere; and what, after all, could be so very wrong with meeting and conversing with him alone for a few minutes? He, at least, was not the kind of bold rogue who might, without warning, force her into an unwanted embrace that was as much a punishment as it was an insult, his hands taking casual liberties with her, just as if she had been some coolie woman who was supposed to feel flattered by his disgusting advances!