Surrender To Love

“Why don’t we ever go to England to visit? Everyone else we know does.”

“For one thing, because your father is far too busy to leave the plantation. And for another, because neither you nor Freddy could stand the cold or the dampness.”

“Well, France then! Doesn’t Mama have any relatives or friends there? Or Spain. I know from my geography book that it is always hot in the south of Spain. Or…”

“Alexa, that is enough! Your poor mama has no family left alive in France; and in any case you know very well she’d never leave your papa to try to manage alone; and neither would I. Perhaps one day when you are grown up and married you will travel…”

Dialogue from the past, suddenly returning to her mind as she stared at the distant, moving line between sea and sky. And when had she stopped questioning and become quite happy and content with her life and the activities she filled it with? Why, she had even been reluctant to leave home in order to come to Colombo, where she would have to face new people and new experiences. Thoughtfully, Alexa dug her bare toes into the sand before she moved back to watch a wave smooth out the impression she had left. So much for her impression left on Colombo society—if that nasty Mrs. Langford could have her way!

Suddenly remembering why she had ventured out here in the first place, Alexa pushed straying tendrils of hair off her forehead and temples crossly, annoyed at herself for dallying to indulge in fanciful thoughts. She had promised Lord Charles that she would meet him by what she had always called “the sea wall”—that section of high stone wall marking the boundary of Sir John Travers’s property that extended all the way down to the ocean, reserving a pretty stretch of private beach for his use.

“A wall!” Lord Charles had chuckled, delightedly. “Why, it reminds me of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, although I hope we will not be forced to converse only through a chink in it!”

Alexa remembered laughing at the suddenly dismayed look that had clouded his expressive features for a moment before she had relented enough to explain that their bridle path would take them past the wall in question and that although it was high on this side her Uncle John had had rough steps built on his side of the wall in case any of his more curious guests might wish to observe what went on beyond it.

“Ah, then you are determined to keep a wall between us!”

“Well…perhaps only until I am quite sure I can trust you—or until you’re ingenious enough to think of a way of scaling it from your side!”

It had probably been that particular bit of teasing conversation that had driven Charlotte Langford to distraction because she could not understand a word of what they were saying, Alexa thought, a fleeting smile touching her lips when she remembered the look poor Charlotte’s face had worn. Well, both Charlotte and her mother would probably swoon from sheer horror if they could have known exactly what the brazen hussy with free and easy manners was up to this time! And as for poor Lord Charles…Alexa had started to run again, but now she slowed her steps deliberately as she thought, If he’s been patient enough to wait all this time, a few minutes longer won’t make too much difference—and I certainly don’t want him to think I’m too eager! But I wonder if he is there, waiting?

As Alexa approached the stone wall it seemed to look much higher than she remembered it, slicing darkly against the starbright sky. Goodness, the poor man! Why hadn’t she thought of suggesting a small boat instead? Unless he’d brought a ladder…! Suddenly nervous and uncertain of herself Alexa had to catch back an almost hysterical giggle at the thought. Ladder indeed, as if they were planning an elopement! And of course he wasn’t still there on the other side of the wall. He had probably given her up a long time ago!

Halting irresolutely once she had reached her destination, Alexa decided against attempting those shallow indentations that passed for steps in order to peer over the top. Not when she was hampered by a skirt. Looking up, she hesitated another moment before, with a slight shrug, she cupped her hands about her mouth and emitted a low but carrying whistle. She knew well enough that ladies never did anything so vulgar as to whistle, but if Lord Charles was there and heard he would surely be broad-minded enough to understand. Would he guess that it was she and not some night bird? Rather impatiently, Alexa gave the same low whistle once again, this time adding a trilling note at the end. She had suddenly begun, for no sensible reason, to feel uneasy, and found herself almost eager to end her adventure now and return to the house. In fact, she had already picked up her skirts again in preparation when she received the response she had only half-expected. Only—it was neither a straightforward whistle nor a birdcall but something different—something that sent involuntary shivers up and down her spine and seemed to freeze her into stiff stillness for some moments. The hoot of an owl! And there it came again, much closer this time, and of course it could not really be an owl because she knew very well that there were no trees nearby. Such an eerie kind of sound! It’s no wonder the natives call it the devil-bird, Alexa caught herself thinking almost superstitiously. And only a short while ago I was telling myself that…She shook herself mentally the next moment, thoroughly annoyed at herself for reacting in such a silly fashion. After all, the cry of an owl was a normal night sound, and that, no doubt, was why he had chosen…

She was on the verge of being daring enough to call out softly when a slight sound made Alexa lift her head sharply, like a young doe scenting danger on the wind; and it was at that moment that she saw a dark shape detach itself from the top of the wall to land before her with a soft, scrunching sound as feet hit sand.

“Oh!” Alexa could not stop herself from gasping before she tried to recover that involuntary show of weakness with a relieved bubble of speech that was quite unlike her. “How ever did you manage that? I’d forgotten that this wall was built so as to render it practically impossible to…And I’m sorry I am so late in getting here, but it was more difficult than I had thought it might be to leave without anyone knowing, and I really could not have blamed you in the least if you had grown tired of waiting or surmised that I might not come at all! And I am still not quite certain if…if this meeting is quite wise, you know…or sensible either! And I do not usually keep rattling on in this ridiculous fashion, I’d have you know, but you did startle me a little bit, by appearing as suddenly as you did. For heaven’s sake! Why can’t you find something to say? Even if it is only to keep me from going on and on…You…Ohh!”

Suddenly, and with shocking unexpectedness, Alexa found her flow of words cut off in the middle of a startled exclamation as she felt herself seized roughly into a far too close embrace while he began to kiss her into silence—and very thoroughly too; but how dared he? And especially after making her such solemn promises, the very first thing he had done was to try to take immediate advantage of her foolish trust in his word as a gentleman!

Filled with righteous indignation Alexa began to struggle and twist furiously against the almost hurtful pressure of his arms and this kiss that bruised her lips against her gritted teeth until she actually tasted blood. Who did he think he was dealing with? Some timid village maiden who might feel flattered by a young Lord’s crude attentions? Well, she was capable of fighting back, and he’d soon find that out, to his cost!

He had managed, by the sheer unexpectedness of his attack on her, to capture both of her hands between their bodies; but now, as Alexa was transformed into a raging virago who kicked viciously at his shins with her bare feet at one moment and then arched her body backward while twisting her head wildly from side to side at the same time, she managed to inch one hand free at least. The lying, cheating reprobate! She’d show him! Like a maddened wildcat Alexa tore at him with her nails, wishing only that they had been knives as she ripped furiously at his shirt until it tore and she was clawing at his flesh now; feeling it catch under her nails until the blood flowed. She told herself that had she been able to reach his face instead of his back, she would have slashed it to ribbons! But at least she’d made sure that he’d bear some scars to remind him another time not to mistake the kind of quarry he thought to trap so easily.

They were both panting by now, he with the grim determination to keep her captive and she with an even greater determination to fight herself free. Whatever he had expected when he had yielded to a sudden impulse, it had not been a battle with a female mountain cat with a supple, athletic body that would not stop twisting and turning almost frenziedly—a cat with sharp claws she used with a vicious ferocity he could hardly believe, even when he first felt them gouge and rip at the flesh of his back. Christ! The damned little bitch-cat was liable to rip his flesh to ribbons if he couldn’t get her calmed down enough to listen to him.

Had he but known it, Alexa was in such a desperate white heat of fury that she could not have heard, let alone understood, anything he might have said over the pounding of blood in her temples that drummed against the roaring in her ears. She was, in fact, not even herself at that moment—not the Alexa Howard who could behave like a lady if she had to—but a purely primitive creature who would use tooth and claw to kill or maim. Even the stifled noises of protest she made under the gag of his mouth had begun to sound more like growls of rage and hate; and when he lifted his head for a moment to say something to her, she gathered what spittle there was in her mouth and spat into his face with a hiss that reminded him even more forcibly of a cat. And when he would have attempted to silence her wild and almost incoherent cries once more, she drew her lips back from her teeth and tried to bite him. Dammit! Something had to be done with her, and quickly too, before she got the best of him.

Alexa had started to kick at him wildly again when suddenly—too unexpectedly for her to be able to keep her balance—she felt herself released; only to fall sprawling backward onto the hard-packed sand with enough of a jar to shock her into momentary silence. Blinking her eyes back into focus again, she saw a dark, menacing figure loom over her and tried to push herself into an upright position without being aware that she was panting out loud; each indrawn breath sounding almost like a sob.

“Oh for Christ’s sake! You couldn’t have hurt yourself falling back onto the sand…. Not that you don’t deserve much worse, you vicious little hellcat, all claws and teeth! I’ve begun to wonder why in hell I troubled to come out here and wait a good hour at least, just to make sure that you… And now what the devil ails you?”

“Ohhh! Oohhh!” As her initial feeling of shock was replaced by renewed fury, Alexa found herself incapable of coherent speech for some moments while her mind adjusted itself to what she had belatedly discovered. Not the Viscount Deering at all but him! The Spaniard—her saturnine, cynical bête noire, of all people! Why hadn’t she guessed right away?

And now, after his insultingly cavalier treatment of her, he had the supreme effrontery to pretend some concern for her, even to the extent of offering her his hand while he said condescendingly in that drawling accent of his that she detested:

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