longing to be back where everything was safe and familiar. It was a pang she quickly stifled with thoughts of the job she had come to London to do and the sights that were still left to see. After all, she could not very well go home and face the children without having been to the Tower, the Egyptian Hall, or Madame Tussaud's famed waxwork exhibition.
There was no time like the present to see these things and write them down while she could still view these wonders with the freshness and curiosity of a visitor. Judging from the faces passing by her on the street, it either did not take one long to become inured to all that the metropolis had to offer, or it was fashionable to appear so. Well, she for one, was not going to be dictated to. To Alexandra, boredom, despite its 94
Lady Alex's Gamble
by Evelyn Richardson
cultivation by the ton, was the indication of an empty mind, and if to be curious was to be too rustic to be a la mode, then so be it.
This air of inquisitiveness and curiosity did set her apart from the crowd, at least for one interested observer—Major Lord Wrotham, who was among the military men in search of new mounts. Dearly as he loved Brutus, the horse that had carried him with such steadiness and dependability through so many battles was showing signs of age. His wind was not what it had once been and lately he had been favoring the right foreleg for no reason that the major, his batman, Radlett, or any groom had been able to fathom. Now, with the possibility of a crucial conflict looming in the future, was not particularly the time Christopher wished to become acquainted with a new mount, but Brutus deserved a peaceful old age on one of the major's estates, and he would get it. Christopher was determined on that score.
It was just as he was listening to the auctioneer enumerating the finer points of a rather splendid-looking bay that Lord Wrotham caught sight of Alex, and he immediately lost interest in the horse. The major's first impulse was to greet the mysterious gambler of the previous evening, but on second thought, he decided that he would learn far more by quietly watching him.
After some minutes of close observation he was amply rewarded. Close scrutiny confirmed his original impression of the man. There was something unusual about him, something that set him apart from the rest of the crowd, any crowd, whether it be the players at White's or the fanciers of 95
Lady Alex's Gamble
by Evelyn Richardson
horseflesh. What was it? The major frowned, puzzling it out. It was not his physical presence. De Montmorency was a wellenough-looking man, but nothing out of the ordinary, except for the rich auburn hair. Otherwise, he was somewhat taller than most, of a slender build, but nothing to cause one to take a second look. What was it then?
After some minutes of consideration Christopher decided that it was the air of alertness and inquiry that made him stand out. Somehow, looking at the man, one was struck by a sense of purposefulness about him, whether he was sprawled at the gaming table or watching an auction. True, he did his best to appear as accustomed to it all as the rest of the ton, but his air of casualness was a studied one, calculated to dispel any possible interest in him. Why was that?
Even more intrigued than before, Christopher looked forward with eagerness to stopping in at White's that evening. In the meantime, however, it was time to call on a few of the more conservative members of Parliament in order to convince them that it would be in their best interests, as well as those of the country in general, if Wellington were to be given what he needed to secure peace for Europe and markets for English goods. The major had just received some recent figures concerning the size of Bonaparte's everincreasing military strength that were sufficiently threatening to alarm even the most recalcitrant members. Sighing at the prospect of hours of niggling argument ahead of him, and
There was no time like the present to see these things and write them down while she could still view these wonders with the freshness and curiosity of a visitor. Judging from the faces passing by her on the street, it either did not take one long to become inured to all that the metropolis had to offer, or it was fashionable to appear so. Well, she for one, was not going to be dictated to. To Alexandra, boredom, despite its 94
Lady Alex's Gamble
by Evelyn Richardson
cultivation by the ton, was the indication of an empty mind, and if to be curious was to be too rustic to be a la mode, then so be it.
This air of inquisitiveness and curiosity did set her apart from the crowd, at least for one interested observer—Major Lord Wrotham, who was among the military men in search of new mounts. Dearly as he loved Brutus, the horse that had carried him with such steadiness and dependability through so many battles was showing signs of age. His wind was not what it had once been and lately he had been favoring the right foreleg for no reason that the major, his batman, Radlett, or any groom had been able to fathom. Now, with the possibility of a crucial conflict looming in the future, was not particularly the time Christopher wished to become acquainted with a new mount, but Brutus deserved a peaceful old age on one of the major's estates, and he would get it. Christopher was determined on that score.
It was just as he was listening to the auctioneer enumerating the finer points of a rather splendid-looking bay that Lord Wrotham caught sight of Alex, and he immediately lost interest in the horse. The major's first impulse was to greet the mysterious gambler of the previous evening, but on second thought, he decided that he would learn far more by quietly watching him.
After some minutes of close observation he was amply rewarded. Close scrutiny confirmed his original impression of the man. There was something unusual about him, something that set him apart from the rest of the crowd, any crowd, whether it be the players at White's or the fanciers of 95
Lady Alex's Gamble
by Evelyn Richardson
horseflesh. What was it? The major frowned, puzzling it out. It was not his physical presence. De Montmorency was a wellenough-looking man, but nothing out of the ordinary, except for the rich auburn hair. Otherwise, he was somewhat taller than most, of a slender build, but nothing to cause one to take a second look. What was it then?
After some minutes of consideration Christopher decided that it was the air of alertness and inquiry that made him stand out. Somehow, looking at the man, one was struck by a sense of purposefulness about him, whether he was sprawled at the gaming table or watching an auction. True, he did his best to appear as accustomed to it all as the rest of the ton, but his air of casualness was a studied one, calculated to dispel any possible interest in him. Why was that?
Even more intrigued than before, Christopher looked forward with eagerness to stopping in at White's that evening. In the meantime, however, it was time to call on a few of the more conservative members of Parliament in order to convince them that it would be in their best interests, as well as those of the country in general, if Wellington were to be given what he needed to secure peace for Europe and markets for English goods. The major had just received some recent figures concerning the size of Bonaparte's everincreasing military strength that were sufficiently threatening to alarm even the most recalcitrant members. Sighing at the prospect of hours of niggling argument ahead of him, and
Similar Books
