Papa needed her, and she had promised not to desert him. But what about her? What about her life, her friends? Would she ever belong to herself again? Like a caged, restless young lioness Alexa paced about her room from door to window and back again with her thoughts troubled by conflicting emotions. She had tried telling herself that it was the unusual hot spell that made her feel so irritable and unsettled. And she had tried not to make too much out of what had happened when Letty and Paul had come for dinner a few days ago. After all, Papa had not been rude, nor had he said anything specific to cause the feeling of constraint that had prevailed throughout the whole evening, making it a stiff, uncomfortable occasion for all of them. No, Papa had seemed to make an effort to keep up a stream of pleasant conversation which he directed to Paul as well as Letty. But all the same, dinner had suddenly become a formal affair, as if they had all been polite strangers who were not quite comfortable with each other. And when Letty had pressed Alexa warmly to call on her again soon, it had been Papa who answered for her to say that he couldn’t spare Alexa during this particular time, although perhaps later on...?
“We are fortunate indeed,” Papa had said with a smile, “to have in you a friend understanding enough to overlook a breach of etiquette that was committed, of course, quite innocently and unknowingly, by my headstrong little miss here. Naturally, the next time Alexa goes calling she will not be unchaperoned. As you know, it takes precious little to get a young girl talked about in an undesirable fashion. Too many jealous mamas, eh?”
Alexa bit her lip as she paused for a moment before resuming her almost frenzied pacing back and forth. It was not as if Papa had said anything outright of course, but all the same she hadn’t felt quite comfortable. And then, just today...
The two young officers who had called had been her hunting companions as well as her closest friends. Was it possible that it had only been less than three months ago? Papa had politely invited them to dismount and come into the shade of the verandah, but he had not invited them to sit down. And when one of them had rather stammeringly suggested that perhaps Alex—beg pardon, Miss Howard— might care to go riding some day or join them on the hunt they were planning next month, Papa had gently but firmly put a stop to that as well.
“Very kind and thoughtful of you young fellows, of course. But you’ll understand, I’m sure, especially if you have sisters of your own, why I cannot permit a young lady to go about unchaperoned as she might have done when she was younger, eh?” And then after the awkward, stammering leave-taking had left them alone again, Papa had patted her cheek affectionately, giving her a quizzical smile.
“There, my dear. Aren’t you relieved that I got rid of those bothersome young fellows for you? Hunting indeed! Far too rough and dangerous, and certainly not a suitable sport for a young lady!”
It’s only because he’s afraid of losing me too, she’d told herself then, letting pity drown her first instinctive feeling of resentment. For after all, Papa had begun to depend on her so and, in fact, almost to cling to her as if he needed the constant reassurance of her presence somewhere close to him. He made her feel protected and cherished— and...and caged! Pausing in mid-stride, Alexa bit her Up as the word she had tried to avoid came into her mind and suddenly filled it with unwanted images that only made her feel guilty. A pet mynah bird with its wings clipped to keep it from flying too far away. Her days planned for her with loving benevolence, her time measured out. Oh no, it was not fair of her to think along such lines, and she ought to be ashamed of herself!
“Alexa?”
Whirling around on her bare feet, she wondered why her heart should have suddenly started to pound.
“Yes, Papa. I’m here.”
“I didn’t wake you up, did I, my dear?”
“No, of course you didn’t. It’s far too hot to fall asleep.” And oh, how could she possibly, even if it was only for an instant, feel as if she actually hated poor papa?
“Feel the heat myself! Thought I’d ask if you’d like a pitcher of cold water brought upstairs since I was going down in any case. But—my dear! That’s rather a skimpy garment you have on, isn’t it? And your windows open wide too! I mean, one of those damned coolies might take it into his head to...”
He was her father. Why should he need to knock before he entered her room? He needed patience and understanding... but all the same Alexa could not prevent her voice from sounding a trifle strained and impatient as she said: “Oh, Papa! You know very well that all the coolies are probably hiding in the shade somewhere, and in any case my windows are far too high up for anyone to see in! I think I’d suffer from heatstroke if I wore anything heavier than this old petticoat; and even this makes me feel so...”
“Heatstroke? My dearest child, you don’t feel... Are you sure you do not feel ill or...or weak? The heat... Perhaps I should call Harriet at once...” His face had turned quite pale with fear and concern and Alexa felt as if she could have bitten her unruly tongue.
“Of course I am not ill or weak in the least! I should not have spoken so carelessly when I only meant to say that I would feel far too hot indeed if I...”
“I understand, my dear, I understand. And you must forgive me for my old-fashioned attitudes. Privacy of your own room, after all, eh? Anything allowable in private, what? Innocence is its own protection, I’m sure—so many things you cannot understand yet! But you’re my good, sweet, innocent little girl, aren’t you? My Victorine’s daughter—Alexandra Victoria. You were named after our new Queen, did you know? And after Victorine too, of course. See more and more of her in you each day, it seems.” He touched her bare, damp arm gently and lovingly while he looked searchingly into her still face. “And it was you who helped me understand, my dear. Opened my eyes. I should have known she wouldn’t leave me quite bereft, if she had to go away. Left you, didn’t she? To make up for... Well! But I mustn’t stand here keeping you from taking your nap, must I? Must promise me you’ll lie down and rest; you look quite drawn and tired. Perhaps a tonic might do some good. I’ll go and ask Harriet at once; she’d know!”
She had worried so much over Papa, and now he was worrying over her. And that was only natural, wasn’t it? He was Papa—familiar and beloved—hovering over her only because he was afraid of losing her too, that was all! He was concerned for her—loving...
Sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at the door he had closed gently behind him, Alexa tried to control her own strange, wild thoughts by telling herself that it was the heat that had affected her without her realizing it; making her imagine the strangest things. Like seeing a stranger look out at her from behind Papa’s eyes when he’d stroked her arm affectionately, as he’d done so often before. There was no reason for her to have had the sudden, violent instinct to snatch it away—or to have the unreasoning fear that perhaps he meant to keep her here with him for always; never letting her out of his sight, always hovering, always fussing over her—keeping her away from everybody else and only to himself, only for himself.
The heat! An over-fevered imagination that let all kinds of irrational, nonsensical thoughts into her mind. No wonder Aunt Harriet was always reminding her to think logically, to be practical. Sanity and sense!
Alexa flung herself down on her bed and lay there with her fingers pressed against her temples; concentrating only on breathing in and out until her ayah came in to remind her that it was almost tea time and she was expected downstairs.
So hot! It was enough to make anyone’s mind play strange tricks. By the time she had been sponged all over with cool water and had slipped into a pale yellow cotton batiste gown with a skirt that was made up of tier upon tier of pretty ruffles edged with dainty white eyelet embroidery, Alexa had begun to feel more like her usual self.
She even made plans as she walked downstairs. A trip to Colombo as soon as the beans were ready for dispatch to the mills. If it would not be considered quite proper for her to stay with Sir John, then perhaps they could take a hotel room, she and Aunt
Harriet. Papa would surely be quite himself by then.
It was not quite as hot on the shady verandah as it had been upstairs, Alexa found to her relief. And after tea had been poured and the tiny sandwiches and light tea cakes handed around, she actually felt her spirits rise. The conversation was light and innocuous and dealt mostly with the garden and the planting of the new roses that had been ordered.
“Perhaps a small fishpond might be quite pretty—if it’s put in a shady spot, of course. With a fountain, if you think it can be contrived.”
“But what does Alexa think?” Papa turned to her with an indulgent smile. “After all, this is your home, and the gardens your concern now. Everything belongs to you now, my dear, just as you belong here—eh, Harriet? And of course you must tell me if there is anything you want changed in the house—new furniture for your room perhaps? New curtains— Oh, we can afford it, my dear, so you need not look so worried!”
“But you have already been more than generous, Papa. Why, think of the cost of all the pretty new gowns I took with me to Colombo! If you continue to lavish so much on me I’m sure that when I marry my husband will accuse me of being far too spoiled to afford!” Alexa had spoken lightly and almost teasingly, with a smile that showed her dimple, never imagining for an instant that her innocently spoken words might cause a thunderstorm to erupt out of the clear sky.
“Marry, did you say? When you marry? What kind of talk is this I hear? How did you get such notions in your head? Well, miss? You need not keep staring at me in that guilty manner now that the cat’s out of the bag! Who is he? Who have you been meeting on the sly? By God, I’ll have his name, or...”
Thunderstruck, Alexa could neither move nor speak, even when she felt his hands grab her shoulders with a roughness as shocking as it was unexpected and his voice continued to attack her as well. “I’ll have the truth from you for a change, girl! Tell me—tell me how far you let him go! How many favors did you grant him, or let him take? Answer me! Or is it guilt that holds you silent? Has he—this man you speak so loosely of marrying—has he defiled you yet? Do you still have your virtue? By God, I thought you innocent— good—answer me!”