“Pardon!” Alexandra exclaimed, startled by the woman’s sudden appearance and quite embarrassed at not having noticed her soon enough to avoid running into her.
“Please, forgive my sister,” William said kindly, offering the woman his arm to steady her. “Her head is somewhere in the clouds today.”
Alexandra mumbled a few words of denial before pasting a bright smile on her face and turning her attention toward the helpless victim of her clumsiness. She appeared to be no more than eighteen years of age, shorter in height than Alexandra, but with a slim figure and ample bosom that any number of women might envy. Her hair was dark brown and straight in appearance, tied back into a taught knot at the nape of her neck. Her face was not exactly beautiful, but could certainly pass as pretty. Looking her up and down, Alexandra had to conclude that her greatest flaw had to be her taste in clothes. Her garments were simply drab and did very little to flatter her figure, but then, who was she to judge? After all, she was standing there in men’s clothing while the woman before her was at least wearing a dress.
“It’s quite all right,” the woman replied, stretching her neck to get a better view of the terrace. “I was just looking for my papa. Have you perhaps seen an older gentleman with graying hair and a big, bushy moustache?”
“Afraid not,” Alexandra said.
“Perhaps, he went for a walk in the gardens?” William suggested.
“Yes, I believe I’ll take a look. Papa does enjoy the flowers.” Thanking them for their advice, the woman hurried off toward the other side of the building.
“That was odd,” William muttered a moment later after they’d gone inside.
“What?”
“That woman you just ran into . . . there was something odd about her.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t put my finger on it just now, but I’m sure it will come to me.”
“Very well then,” Alexandra said. “Let me just pack the last of my things so we can be off.”
They continued on toward Dunkerque, with another overnight stay at Lichtervelde, enjoying the lack of haste. “Isn’t it beautiful?” Alexandra asked as they stopped in Veurne to marvel at the neo-gothic architecture surrounding the town square.
“Hm . . . I believe extraordinary might be a more apt description of it,” Ryan said as he stared up at the splendid display of color in the stained glass windows of the church.
“I need a beer,” William muttered from behind them.
Alexandra couldn’t help but sigh in response. “You don’t have a cultural bone in your body, do you, William?”
“Of course I do,” he grinned. “It’s just limited to alcohol and food.”
“And women,” Ryan chuckled.
Alexandra rolled her eyes. “Don’t you think it’s impressive?” she asked as she pointed out all the lacework adorning each façade.
“I suppose so,” William admitted. “But to just stand about gawking at it for hours on end seems a trifle pointless.”
“Honestly, Alex,” Ryan cut in. “I don’t know why you bother. He simply doesn’t get it.”
“I certainly do,” William said. “I would just appreciate it more if I were having a cold drink at the same time.”
“Come along then,” Alexandra grinned, pulling William along with her by his arm. “There’s a brewery just over there where we can get some refreshments while enjoying our surroundings.”
“Now you’re talking!” Hurrying ahead of them, he quickly secured a table with a bench on either side. A waiter appeared a moment later and William placed an order on all of their behalves.
“Ah . . . that’s more like it,” William exclaimed five minutes later as he set his beer mug on the table and wiped the foam from his mouth
“I couldn’t agree more,” Ryan admitted.
“It certainly does hit the spot,” Alexandra agreed. She studied her brothers for a moment. “Tell me Ryan, what do you want to do with your life?”
The question clearly surprised him for it had come from out of nowhere. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you’re just about the smartest person I know. In fact you’re better read than William and I put together. I thought you might want to—”
Ryan chuckled. “Just because I’ve read close to every book in creation, doesn’t make me smarter than either one of you.”
“Perhaps not, but I still think you’re too hard on yourself at times,” Alexandra told him. “Back in Paris for instance, you saw to it that Michael and I did our duty. You encouraged him to challenge me, knowing it was very likely the only thing I was going to learn anything from. I learned a valuable lesson because of you, Ryan. I learned just how dangerous a game it was I was playing. Now that I’m free again, I’ll keep that lesson in mind.”
“But do you really want to be free again?” Ryan asked cautiously. The painful reminder of what she’d given up on rose to the surface. She pushed it back, forcing a smile for Ryan’s and William’s benefit alone.
“What a silly question,” she whispered. “Of course I do.”
Setting her mug on the table with a hard clunk, she got up and walked away in search of her horse.
“You must admit, she has a point,” William said as he handed some money over to the waiter and got to his feet. “Have you considered going back to Oxford and actually getting a degree?”
Ryan winced. He’d been studying all his life it seemed, but he just wasn’t capable of sticking to one area of expertise long enough to become certified. “Of course, I’ve considered it. After all, I’m not the eldest and will have to make my own way somehow.” There was no resentment or bitterness in his voice. “Still, I’d like to pick something that will make me happy. I suppose that’s why I’ve drifted so much. I wanted to try it all to make sure I made the right decision. After all, it would be a permanent one.”
William considered that for a moment and couldn’t help but agree. “It’s rather like choosing a bride I suppose.”
Ryan grinned. “Trust you to make such an analogy.” They continued after Alexandra to where they’d left their horses.
“I’ve finally got it!” William suddenly exclaimed.
“What are you on about?” Ryan stopped in his tracks to look at his brother.
“That woman Alex and I ran into at the inn in Lichtervelde . . .”
“What woman?”
“Oh, Alexandra almost knocked a woman to the ground because she was so distracted by her thoughts of Ashford.”
“The point is that something about this woman struck me as odd, and I’ve just now figured out what it was.” William felt as excited as a child on Christmas morning. “She had a surgeon’s badge pinned to her arm.”
“A female surgeon? But that’s impossible, William. Surely you must be mistaken.”
William shook his head with amusement. “I assure you I am not. And she was young too. I had her pegged as no more than eighteen at the time, but given her profession, I suspect I’ll have to add a couple of years.”
“Good heavens,” Ryan said. “Imagine that . . . I must say that’s quite remarkable. She was Belgian I take it?”
“I’ve no idea. We spoke French, but that’s hardly an indication.”
“Well, they certainly do seem to be more liberal over here on the continent. A female surgeon or doctor or whatever it is she claims to be would never fly back home in England.”
“You’re certainly right about that,” William agreed.
“Still,” Ryan continued. “One cannot help but admire her courage. Do you suppose she’ll be attending to the wounded?”
“The wounded? You mean Wellington’s and Bonaparte’s troops? I hadn’t considered it. Who knows what her destination might be? She was looking about for her father when Alex ran into her.”
“Ah. Well, let’s hope the man will keep a watchful eye on his daughter then. Lord knows the world has fostered enough willful chits.”
William caught a glimpse of Alexandra brushing down her horse’s flanks. “Amen to that,” he muttered.
They reached home five days after leaving Brussels.
“Look!” William pointed ahead of them, his voice ringing with excitement. “It’s Papa!”
Alexandra spotted him instantly, his back turned toward them in the gig he was driving as he headed toward the manor. He couldn’t have heard them yet, she realized—not with that much distance between them and the sounds that his own horses were surely making. Kicking her heels against her horse’s sides, she quickened the pace, hoping to catch up. “Papa!” he continued on his way, so she tried again. “Papa!”
This time, her father must have heard her. He pulled on the reins and then turned in his seat, shading his eyes with his hand as he looked back in her direction. Alexandra waved with great enthusiasm, her heart leaping with joy at his happy expression. A moment later, she pulled up beside him, leaped from her horse, and dashed right into his open arms.
“Alex.” Bryce sighed, gripping her in a firm embrace. He released her to welcome his boys. “I see you have brought William home with you.”
Alexandra barely caught the hint of tears in her father’s eyes.
How difficult this must have been for him.
“And Alex appears to be in one piece,” Bryce added as he turned to Ryan, patting him fiercely on the back. “I knew I could count on you to keep an eye on her.”
“I did my best,” Ryan replied. Alexandra couldn’t help but note the look of apprehension in his eyes though. Well, at least he was being somewhat honest, for which she was thankful.
“And Trenton? I trust he’s no longer chasing after William?”
“Indeed, he’s not,” Ryan said, “I think you’ll be happy to find that everything has been resolved and that Michael has returned to London to give his report to Sir Percy.”
“Excellent! Then let’s return to the house shall we? I want to hear all about your adventure. Who will ride with me?”
“I will, Papa,” Alexandra said, tossing her horse’s reins to William and jumping up into the gig.
“What do you suppose Papa will say when he discovers you didn’t keep such a good eye on Alex after all?” William asked Ryan as they watched the gig roll away. They’d both had enough of riding and chose to walk the remainder of the distance instead.
“Perish the thought,” Ryan muttered in response. “He’ll probably have my head. However, I don’t intend to play the coward. Besides, Papa needs to know what’s going on. Without his help, our plan has no chance of succeeding.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
During the course of the next couple of weeks, Alexandra began to feel as though she were under assault.
On one occasion, she came downstairs to find the parlor filled with several bouquets of bright yellow tulips. A smile came to her lips as she asked her brothers who had sent them. “Oh, nobody,” they replied. “We merely thought the room needed a touch of color, so we asked Mrs. Barnes (the housekeeper) to buy whatever struck her fancy.”