The Lorimer Legacy by Anne Melville

and soon everyone was singing. Without knowing the words, Alexa was quick to pick up the tunes. One of the students, who had been scribbling something at the end of the long table, presented it to her with a click of his heels, and called out to the pianist. He had written a poem for her, Alexa saw. She flushed with pleasure as she read it – for by now her German was fluent – and realized that she was being invited to sing it.
    It took her only a moment to learn the melody which the young poet had used for her verse; a lilting tune with an exuberant chorus. She sang her part and the students joined in with a roar which became more rumbustious at each repetition. In a steady beat they thumped their mugs and stamped their feet in accompaniment to Alexa’s clear tones. Her excitement fed on the presence of so many admiring young men, the touch of apprehension about what was in store, and the exhilaration which always came when she projected her whole personality into her singing. She wished that the moment could last for ever. And then, abruptly, the bubble was pricked.
    The door opened, and Lord Glanville stepped inside.He stood still for a moment, his tall presence impressive even when, as now, his face was grey with tiredness. Alexa was the first to see him and the only one who could guess why he was there, but the recklessness induced by so much beer and the heady atmosphere of the beer cellar carried her on to the end of the song. Only then, as the students roared and banged approval, did she become quiet and ashamed.
    As she stepped away from the long table, the Duke of Caversham looked round and sprang to his feet. He reached Lord Glanville before Alexa could, blocking her way to him. He was drunk enough to be belligerent, but the older man did not flinch.
    â€˜I have not had the pleasure of meeting you since your school-days, Your Grace,’ Lord Glanville said. ‘Allow me to take this opportunity of expressing my sincere regret at your father’s death. And now, if you will excuse me, I have come to take Miss Lorimer back to Baden-Baden.’
    â€˜Miss Lorimer is here under my protection, my lord. You are not insinuating, I hope, that she has anything to fear in Heidelberg.’
    Behind Alexa, the singing had begun again, but between the two men in the doorway there was a long silence which seemed charged with antagonism. Alexa, without understanding what was at stake in the confrontation, was frightened. They would surely not fight. There could be no doubt that they were both angry, both prepared to defend injured pride; and the scarred faces around them made the thought of a duel less impossible. But duels, although an accepted part of the Heidelberg way of life, were illegal for Englishmen, and aristocrats did not exchange blows. She told herself that she must be exaggerating their antagonism; yet still she was frightened.
    The young duke, beer-blustering and with the need to maintain his reputation in front of his companions, might have pressed the challenge into an open quarrel. But the older man, tired with more than the rigours of travel, not only refused to be provoked but offered Caversham a means of saving face.
    â€˜Miss Lorimer is my wife’s companion and her presence is required at once. My wife is gravely ill, and is to leave Germany without delay. I am sure Miss Lorimer is most grateful to you for entertaining her, but she will acknowledge that I have some claim on her services.’
    Sulkily, the young man stepped aside and allowed Alexa to pass. She held out her hand to him, not wishing their acquaintance to end in anger.
    â€˜It has been a very pleasant visit, Your Grace. I hope very much that one day we may meet again.’
    He bowed over her hand without speaking and watched her go. Lord Glanville offered his arm, and she took it. As the clear summer air refreshed her after the smoky noise of the beer cellar, she told herself that she must not be angry with her