visit the drawing room—perhaps to ask if the ladies need anything before they retire—you might just say a few words to Miss Alexa in your tongue, perhaps a mumbled undertone. You’re good at that when you imagine you’ve something to grumble about, eh? Tell her…The devil take it! Just make sure she’s not about to lose her temper and start throwing things, you hear? You might move my Ming vases out of there. That ought to give her a hint. Tell her those were my orders and she’ll understand very well what I meant. That’s all. And since I might go outside for a stroll later on, I don’t want you sitting up for half the night either. That clear? You’re getting to be an old man too. Hah!”
Poor faithful old Velu! He’d be getting a pension, of course, and enough money to buy himself that land in Jaffna he’d always wanted, as well as a young wife to give him children before it was too late. Too late…You spent your time and energy accumulating money and possessions and forgot why you were doing so in the process, until suddenly it was too late to enjoy their use and you saw them for what they were—more clutter and things to leave behind when you had to go.
No, dammit! Sir John slammed down the glass he had been holding and began to pace about the large, shelf-lined room as he usually did when he was deep in thought. Dammit, he thought again, I haven’t gone yet! Still got some time left to me if all those doctor chaps were right and if I don’t overdo things. Time enough, perhaps to make sure it wasn’t all for nothing after all, not just wasted! Made use of—enjoyed. That’s what money was for, and possessions. And why the deuce should the Crown get any of it, anyhow?
11
By the time Sir John had stopped his pacing back and forth, Alexa had already regained the comparative sanctuary of her bedchamber, although she had had to spend several minutes leaning with her back against the door she had slammed shut behind her before she managed to catch her breath. These silly, tight corsets she was supposed to wear in order to be fashionable…And that even more ridiculous woman who reminded her of an ugly old crow with her taste for carrion…!
Oh! How dearly I should have loved to indulge myself by flying into a simply towering rage, when I might really have said or done something quite outrageous. How I would have loved to see their faces then! Why, if Velu hadn’t appeared…
Even in the midst of thinking such dark thoughts Alexa’s sense of humor interrupted for long enough to make her start to grin unwillingly. For she had been eying one of poor Uncle John’s precious Ming vases consideringly when Velu had sidled in to remove them, muttering what sounded like incantations under his breath until she understood that instead of praying to his Hindu gods he was trying to warn her. Something like “lose mind, lose all,” which may or may not have been an old Tamil proverb. But at any rate Velu had been just in time to prevent an outright disaster, which would have ended, Alexa thought ruefully, in her being sent home in disgrace—even if it hadn’t been at all her fault.
Thinking back to her confrontation with Mrs. Langford made Alexa scowl all over again, and the nervous ayah Velu had sent to her to help her undress became even more nervous, so that her fingers fumbled over their task at first—until she realized that “Alex missy’s” glowering look was not meant for her.
Charlotte, Alexa was thinking, was merely a nasty little gossip and a tattletale who didn’t like to be ignored, as well as being her mama’s very echo. But Mrs. Langford…! Alexa’s lips curled in a most unpleasant way as she recalled how Mrs. Langford had started out with her condescending, hypocritical little speech that was meant to put Miss Howard in her place while exalting Miss Charlotte Langford as an example she should try to model herself after. Snatches of that speech flashed back into Alexa’s memory now, together with the mind-picture of Charlotte sitting next to her with modestly bent head, trying hard not to preen herself.
“My dear Miss Howard. Although I have hesitated before, my sense of duty forces me to speak out now; and I do hope you will take some well-meant advice from a mother with a daughter close to your age in the spirit in which it is intended. A few pertinent words of caution from someone older and more mature who is used to moving about in Society and much more aware of the dangers and pitfalls that await one too inexperienced and too impetuous…Guidance of the young is so necessary; that and constant, loving supervision…”
While Alexa listened almost unbelievingly, Mrs. Langford had gone on and on until at last she had been forced to pause long enough to draw breath. Alexa had thought to herself—now I suppose she is bound to throw some solemn quotation at me!
“And after all, as the saying goes, ‘a stitch in time saves nine!’ Dear Charlotte embroidered that very motto for me on a sampler when she was barely six years old, and I still have it, framed, of course. So…”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Langford, but I really fail to understand what your favorite motto has to do with me, since I usually do those things that I must do very quickly in order that I might be finished with them, instead of trying to put off the inevitable. I’m afraid I cannot see…”
The natural ruddy tint of Mrs. Langford’s complexion had become quite mottled as she girded herself for battle almost visibly; drawing herself up as she cast Alexa a look that was meant to reduce her.
“I can only hope, Miss Howard, that you did not deliberately choose to misunderstand me when you interrupted what I had begun to say. ‘Children should be seen and not heard’—and for all that you have reached eighteen years of age it cannot fail to become very soon apparent to the bystander who watches and observes that you, Miss Howard, are a mere child in experience of the Ways of this World. And while children may be allowed a certain amount of…Well, let me be brief and say merely that what can be forgiven in a child who does not know any better can never be quite as easily passed over when one is considered to be grown-up enough to enter society. Any foolish or unthinking action that could be misconstrued by others, even the slightest indication of being—shall we say—a little too free and easy in one’s manner towards the opposite sex…Perhaps you may not know it, Miss Howard, but once there is Talk about a young woman it is too late for her to try and retrieve her mistakes! She will soon find that she is no longer accepted in the best circles, where once she might have been welcome; and all too soon…”
Mrs. Langford had paused to take another deep breath, and seizing the opportunity, Alexa had almost sprung to her feet, with her impatience and rage showing in every movement—very much the young lioness her birth sign symbolized. That horrible, ugly-minded, petty woman! If she didn’t move—find something to do with her hands—she might give way to the impulse to…to…How fortunate that Velu, on one of his suspiciously frequent trips into the drawing room, had placed a small tray bearing a decanter of sherry and some glasses on one of the sideboards. It was just what she needed at this point to calm her nerves.
Taking long strides that she knew would be considered unladylike, Alexa crossed the room before saying over her shoulder, “Sherry, anyone?” When she heard only horrified gasps in response, she shrugged as she lifted the decanter to pour out a glass of sherry for herself, turning immediately afterwards to face them defiantly as she raised her glass with pretended insouciance. “Well, à votre santé , then! Or, translated into English, to your good health! Mmm! This is an excellent sherry, and you ladies really should try it.”
Mrs. Langford had recovered herself sufficiently by then to utter in a choked voice: “Sherry! Another intoxicating beverage, is it not? And you must not think that I didn’t notice that you sipped from your wineglass at dinner, young woman! It was only out of a spirit of Christian forbearance that I refrained from making any pointed comments before now. But to have my Charlotte subjected to witnessing a young woman of tender years indulging boldly and far too indiscreetly in what is even considered a vice in men…! Ah, Miss Howard, I pity your poor parents!”
“Do you, Mrs Langford? I shall be sure and tell them so.” The sherry she swallowed down far too fast because she was angry warmed Alexa’s throat like liquid gold and fortified her spirits with a rush of energy and strength that allowed her to say quite calmly: “But apart from the fact that I enjoy a glass of sherry occasionally, what other shocking crime have I committed? Please feel free to be quite