Alexandra peered around the wall and waved at her maid to stay back. It was a delicate business, leaving the house without her mother seeing. Fortunately, Alexandra had had three years of practice.
“My lady—,” Hannah began.
“Shh.” Alexandra turned, still crouched, with her finger pressed to her lips. Hannah was clutching one small basket full of embroidery, and Alexandra was clutching another. “Mother will hear you,” Alexandra warned.
“But, my lady,” the maid continued in a softer whisper. “I intended to say that I believe your mother is in the study.”
Alexandra bolted upright, nearly dropping her basket. “The study? But Mother is never in Father’s study.” Alexandra turned her back to the corridor she’d been stalking and directed her attention toward the study instead.
Hannah nodded and shifted the basket in her arms. “I heard the duchess say earlier that she intended to speak with the duke.”
Confound it. What was Mother about? Alexandra peered down the corridor that led to the study. Hmm. This was unexpected and, as a result, interesting. Quite interesting, indeed. Normally, she would be pleased to find Mother preoccupied during Alexandra’s twice-monthly visits to the poorhouse; she gave her embroidery to the people there to sell in the streets for whatever they could make from it. She might as well make something useful out of the odiously dull pastime. Of course, Mother would have a fit if she knew her daughter was doing such a thing, but what Mother didn’t know didn’t hurt her. Or so Alexandra had decided years ago. It was no easy feat to pretend she was taking a nap, sneak out, convince Hannah, and bribe the coachman to take her to a less-than-savory part of town. It certainly didn’t hurt that Alexandra suspected the coachman was sweet on Hannah. That, and keeping Alexandra’s reputation intact, made Hannah’s presence an absolute necessity to the mission. Yes, normally she’d welcome Mother’s preoccupation. Breathe a sigh of relief, actually. But today—today Alexandra was intrigued by the idea of her parents speaking to one another in the study in the middle of the afternoon. Unprecedented!
Instead of hurrying through the back corridor and out into the mews, Alexandra plunked one fist on her hip. “What do you think Mother wants with Father?”
Hannah shrugged and shifted the basket in her arms again. “I’m certain I don’t know, my lady.”
Alexandra cocked her head to the side and stared toward the study. Her parents lived in the same home, but they could always be counted upon to keep to their own worlds. Her mother managed the household, the shopping, and the social affairs. Her father managed his property, his seat in Parliament, and his outings to the club. Theirs was quite an efficient marriage, actually. Alexandra rarely saw them in the same room together. Such a spotting would be a novelty.
“It cannot be good,” Alexandra breathed. No. If Mother was going into the study in the middle of the day, something was wrong, and Alexandra had a sinking feeling that that something might very well have to do with her. “You don’t suppose it’s because of my failure in Society, do you, Hannah?”
There were few secrets Hannah wasn’t privy to. The maid was Alexandra’s closest confidante, outside of Thomas. It wasn’t as if she could talk to her sister. All Lavinia ever wanted to talk about was herself. “Oh, no, my lady,” Hannah hastened to assure her. “Your mother cannot fault you for your … your…”
Alexandra sighed. “You might as well say it.”
Hannah winced. “Your late blooming,” she finished magnanimously.
Alexandra shook her head slowly, biting her lip. “It’s more than late blooming, Hannah. I’m a wallflower. A complete failure.” It was true. Despite her list, despite her wishes and dreams, Alexandra’s debut last spring had been a dismal failure. No handsome gentleman had asked her to dance. No other gentlemen had asked her either. Not even the unhandsome, ineligible sorts. It had dampened her spirits, to be sure, but it hadn’t crushed her dreams. No, those were still impossibly intact.
Hannah continued to whisper. “It’s not your fault that Lady Sarah Highgate has captured the attention of all the eligible gentlemen this Season. She’s a diamond of the first water.”
“Yes, and I’m a rock in the brackish bit.” Alexandra laughed.
“Now, that’s not true, my lady,” Hannah replied loyally. “But your mother has already told you that you cannot marry until Lady Lavinia does. So I’m certain the duchess is not concerned with your marital prospects. Besides, Lady Sarah will no doubt be engaged before the Season’s end, and the rest of the gentlemen will come to their senses. They say the Marquess of Branford intends to offer for her.”
The Marquess of Branford was the most eligible of all the Season’s bachelors. Well, he was the one with the most prestigious title, at least. Which practically made him the most eligible. The fact that he’d declared himself to be in the market for a wife also didn’t hurt. He was handsome and titled and rich, but Alexandra hadn’t given him a second look. He wasn’t Lord Owen Monroe, after all.
She took a tentative step toward the study. “Be that as it may, I don’t think it could hurt to have a quick listen.”
“My lady!” Hannah gasped.
Alexandra turned around and gave her maid a pleading look. “You know I cannot help myself. Please don’t judge me, Hannah. I need you.”
“Very well, my lady.” Hannah nodded.
“Let’s leave the baskets here.” Alexandra pointed to a spot behind a table in the corridor. The two women stooped and pushed their baskets behind the table to hide them. Then they sneaked down the marble-floored hallway and around the corner and tiptoed toward the door of the duke’s study.
Alexandra held her breath. Eavesdropping was detestable, of course, but sometimes necessary. What if something truly awful were happening? What if, God forbid, Mama had picked out a suitor for her? Alexandra would be forced to stop it. Only one man would do for her. Granted, a man who had been noticeably absent from events of the Season to date, a man who had never declared himself ready or willing to take a bride, a man who preferred drinking and gambling to all other decent pursuits. But that didn’t concern Alexandra overly much. She would find a way for their paths to cross now that she’d officially made her debut. Besides, it was true that she had been merely fifteen when she wrote that list and chose Lord Owen Monroe. She should get to know him better before she made a final decision, but there would be time for that. She had to ensure that Mama didn’t have other plans first. And to that end, a bit of properly timed eavesdropping seemed to be in order.
Alexandra and Hannah sneaked up to the study door. Thankfully, it was cracked. Mother’s high-pitched breathless voice was floating about inside the room. Alexandra leaned forward and pressed her ear near the opening.
“I’m telling you, Martin, I don’t like it. Not one bit.” Her mother’s voice rang out.
“I don’t see why not.” Her father’s voice was strong and calm in comparison.
“What can you possibly mean?” Mother replied. “He’s completely inappropriate for her.”
“His family is one of the most esteemed in the country.”
“He’s a ne’er-do-well.”
“His father is one of my oldest and closest friends,” Father replied.
“He’s a rakehell.”
“So was I once.”
Alexandra couldn’t see inside the room, but she pictured her mother waving her handkerchief and turning red. “I cannot believe you would allow our darling girl to be carted off by the likes of him, of all people.”
“I daresay she could use a good carting off, Lillian.”
“Don’t be indecent.”
“It’s an excellent match. We’d be lucky to have him. A man’s actions speak louder than his words. I believe he’s got quite a lot of good in him.”
Alexandra held her breath. It was worse than she’d thought. Whoever the chap was, he must be particularly odious for Mother to be arguing with Father about it. Mother never argued with Father. She would gainsay him nothing.
“But we don’t even know how she feels about him. She may not even like him,” Mother pleaded. “And if actions do indeed speak louder than words, then he’s a drunken lout.”
“Nonsense. He merely hasn’t decided to settle down yet. My money’s on the lad. That devil can be downright charming when he wants to be. And as for her feelings, that’s why I insisted that he court her. She must choose him.”
“You admit he’s a devil?” Mother replied, her voice reaching such a pitch that Alexandra worried for the glassware in the study.
“He needs to settle down, Lillian. A wife and children will make him grow up. I’ve no doubt.”
“What if you’re wrong? What if his egregious behavior doesn’t change? I don’t think we should be taking that gamble on our daughter, for heaven’s sake.”
Alexandra slowly let out her breath. They must be talking about a suitor for Lavinia, mustn’t they? Lavinia was the one who must marry first. Lavinia was the one whose marital prospects were forefront in her mother’s mind. But what if they were talking about Alexandra? An icy sweat broke out on her brow. What if they’d received an offer? Alexandra didn’t think she’d had any offers, and no one had shown any particular interest in her, of course, but neither had they shown interest in Lavinia. And hadn’t Mother mentioned just last week that she despaired of Lavinia ever making a match with her “difficult” behavior? Given that, her parents might well be speaking about Alexandra after all.
She was just about to push through the door and insist that her mother was right. She couldn’t possibly marry a man she didn’t know and didn’t love. Though she was certain they’d fall over in dead swoons if she announced she intended to marry the infamous Lord Owen Monroe.
“I’m telling you, Martin,” Mother continued. “I think it’s all wrong.”
Her father’s voice grew cajoling. “Let’s just see how they get on at the ball we’re planning for them.”
Her mother sighed. “Yes. And now I must plan a ball. As if this match weren’t bad enough.”
“We want them to have every opportunity to enjoy each other’s company, don’t we?” Father replied.
“Fine, but I daresay I know my own daughter well enough to guess her mind.”
Alexandra nodded firmly.
Mother’s voice held an edge of anxiety. “There’s simply no way Lavinia will willingly accept the suit of that rogue, Lord Owen Monroe.”
Alexandra gasped.