Read Online The English Witch by Loretta Chase - Free Book Online Page A

entertaining." Her tone, softened. "I hope he did not misbehave terribly, my dear."
    Alexandra coloured slightly, though she replied calmly enough. "Oh no, of course not. It was all for show. He did have my father to convince and Dhimitri as well—at least until we were aboard ship. He was very successful. As you saw yourself, Papa was rather confused. The only push he made was to tell Randolph to stir himself."
    "Nevertheless, in your father's eyes you're still betrothed to Randolph. It really makes me wonder at Basil."
    "You speak as though he regularly accomplishes miracles, Aunt Clem."
    "I know he's solved far more difficult and delicate matters for The Crown. It is usually a matter of pride with him to succeed completely at what he undertakes, particularly if it is something devious."
    "Perhaps, then, the problem was beneath him."
    "That would be a first," the countess muttered.
    "Besides, Papa was suspicious of him. Add that to the problem of paying back Mr. Burnham. He did fund Papa's work generously and had those travel accounts published. He looks after all of Papa's business now—though there's little enough profit in it for him."
    "Yes, a philanthropist, I'm sure," was the dry observation. "How warm you are in defence of your tormentors, Alexandra."
    "I’ve been trying to see it through Papa's eyes, Aunt Clem. After all, I've made so many difficulties for him. And I honestly wish I could care more for Randolph."
    The fervour with which she expressed that wish made Lady Bertram raise an eyebrow ever so slightly, but lost in her own thoughts, Alexandra continued, "Papa says I'm only being obstinate—and maybe he's right."
    The eyebrow elevated another fraction.
    "After all," the young woman went on hurriedly, "Randolph is a kind and honest man. One could do a great deal worse, I suppose."
    "Undoubtedly."
    "Once he began taking the trouble to talk with me, I found him, well, not disagreeable company. He was most considerate throughout the voyage, certainly, and he is sincere and straightforward. One never wonders what he means, really—" She caught herself up in time and went on more matter-of-factly, "At any rate, I think better of him now than when I wrote you. Yet, if I hadn't written and your nephew hadn't come and shaken Randolph out of his complacency, I might never have seen his—Randolph's—better qualities."
    Though the words were rational enough, there was an edge of despair in the tone. Nonetheless, Lady Bertram only nodded and remarked, "Basil comes out of the adventure quite a prodigy of virtue. How very distressing that must be for him, after devoting so much time and imagination to wickedness."
    "Has he?" Alexandra couldn't help asking. "I mean, has he always been wicked?"
    "My dear child—you don't mean to tell me he's pulled the wool over your eyes?"
    "Of course not. I was only wondering if he was always so."
    The countess hesitated, but only for a moment. Then, without mincing matters—yet without dwelling on them either—she gave her goddaughter a concise history of Basil's career from the time he entered Oxford.
    When she had done, Miss Ashmore nodded as though the account was only confirmation of what she'd known all along. She smiled, very winningly indeed, and asked for news of Family and Society—in short, all the sorts of things a young lady who'd been out of England for six years would want to know.
    A week later, as Alexandra reclined upon a chaise longue trying to read a book, she found herself wondering where Basil was and what wickedness he could be up to now. Sense and Sensibility lay neglected on her lap while she debated whether his new ladybird was an actress or an opera dancer and whether her eyes were blue or brown or even green like Alexandra's own.
    But what concern was that of hers? She hadn't really expected him to visit her, had she? Still, she'd thought he might at least call on his own aunt. The days had passed, and there was no sign