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Aloud, she said with careful attention to the inflection of her voice: “I’m sorry now that I could not have been here earlier, at the very beginning of autumn. There is no change of seasons in Ceylon, where I was brought up, and I have not yet seen the snow. Can you imagine that?” “Words, words, words”—like Hamlet. Words to cover and to disguise those things inside that went too deep and were too dark to be put into superficial words.
“Oh, but you’ll be able to see snow in California. Snow in the mountains, with the burning desert sands as a contrast. But the southern part of California has a very pleasant and mild climate, so I understand. Perhaps you’ll come and visit us next year?”
And then like a miracle sent to save her, Alexa felt the first few drops of rain spatter on her taut-white knuckles and heard Mary say with dismay, “Oh no! I’ve been so engrossed in our talk that I did not even think... what must you think of me? Please, you will come home with me, won’t you? We’ll both get rather wet, but...”
“Heavens, no,” Alexa said lightly. “I’ve always loved riding in the rain and this ride will be such fun. My aunt will be frantic if I don’t return; and anyhow, I want to prove to my husband that I am quite as hardy as he is. I know you’ll understand.”
While Mary Eden was still hesitating, Alexa flashed her a smile before she turned the mare around and called teasingly, “Go on. You hurry back home and face your husband. I’m sure mine cannot be back yet, so I can take my time and be careful. And thank you for your honesty, Mary Eden.”
Was that the first flick of her fingernail against a carefully balanced card? Had it already happened before, or did it happen afterwards, when the wildness took possession of her with the rain blowing in her face and the mare becoming a part of her and a tree branch snatching her hat away so that the wind had its will of her hair and it streamed behind her in the end like a wet banner and she screamed all her raging fury out loud into the sky and into the earth and into the fierce wind itself until she could feel even the trees and the shrubs about her answer her while the rain flowed into her mouth and soaked her through every layer and every garment she had worn until it reached her skin and stayed to caress it with every miniature rivulet and stream that flowed over her and about her as if she were a continent and a storm and at the same time made out of the dust from all the stars and the stars themselves and even the empty spaces between them?
For some time she had been completely insane, of course. Or had somehow left her body like the yogis who were advanced enough were supposed to do, letting herself be taken and carried in whirling spirals by a mighty wind that took her higher and higher and even higher yet until she no longer felt the branches whipping against her face or tearing at her hair and heard nothing but her own keening scream surrounding her until it echoed and echoed through all the vastness of the sky and touched against every star before it came back to her at last. But by then she had already begun it. And even if in a part of her mind she watched in horror and despair the slow-fall of the cards and knew the empty, crumpled ending, she knew also that she could not halt anything now. Not even if he called to her and called for her with a note of something in his voice she had never heard in it before. Never...never...never...!
It was dark, and the rain still beat against her and ran down her face to mix with and disguise the tears that poured from her eyes. There were sounds—screaming— and a voice that called, “Alexa! Alexa! Damn you, answer me!”
How had he known how to track her down and where to find her as she lay cushioned on moss in the shelter of the trees that guarded her? But in the end when some vestige of sanity came back to her, it was because of the poor, beautiful, gallant little mare she had ridden so thoughtlessly that she lay screaming in agony somewhere close by. It was for her, poor creature, that Alexa answered in a voice that was so hoarse she could not recognize it as her own.
“Here!” that voice said. “I’m here! But first...oh please, for God’s sake do something for her! Do something, I beg you, I beg you... do something to stop her suffering!?
??
He was as wet as she was, but he had a lantern sheltered under the heavy wool cloak that he dropped over her inert, shivering body after he had felt for broken bones and bumps first, in spite of her protests that there was nothing wrong with her.
“Please, Nicholas, please! You must—you must!”
“Don’t move, then. You had damned well better not move an inch before I get back to you. Do you understand?”
Without waiting for his reply, she heard him move away and after she had waited for what seemed an interminable time that awful screaming that tortured her and lacerated every nerve in her body was abruptly stilled; and she was able to make out, at last, other sounds in the greater silence that followed.
When he came back to her Alexa grabbed at his wet shoulders without thinking as she choked, “Did you—? How did you—? There was no shot...”
“Even if I’d carried a gun with me it wouldn’t have been any damned good by now. You want to know how? With a knife! That’s how I had to do it. Is that enough for you?”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! If I’d listened to Grubb, if I’d had enough sense to... Why couldn’t I have broken my neck? Do you think I’ll ever be able to forgive myself?”
For a few minutes she felt comfortable and almost secure inside the circle of his arms while he held her against him as if she had been a child who needed comfort. And then she remembered too much and tried to pull away from him. “I...I’m all right now. There’s no need...I’m...all in one piece...I’m afraid...!”
“Are you sure? Do you know how long you’ve been lying here?” His voice was brusque and impersonal as he said: “Do you think you can stand? I had to borrow one of the Edens’ horses to come out here after you. Jesus Christ, Alexa! Don’t you possess any common sense at all, tucked away in some corner of that shallow, empty little head of yours? It’s high time you started to grow up and begin acting like an adult for a change, instead of like a goddamned spoiled little brat who must always have things her way, no matter what the cost! Dammit—can you stand up or do I have to carry you?”
It seemed strange and almost funny for her to be saying what she started to say now and yet, once the cards started falling in her head she had to go on with it and have it over with.
“No! Not yet. There’s something I want to tell you now that I should have told you before, I suppose, only you made it... difficult to...”
“I suppose you’re wondering about my plans to go to California?” Incongruously enough, he was still holding her against himself—so close that she could even hear the beating of his heart before he said quietly, “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything before you had to hear it from someone else, Alexa.”
“It’s true, though? Isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s true. I should have had my fun and tasted what I wanted to taste of London as Lord Embry, heir to the Marquess of Newbury. Good God!” His laughter sounded harshly in her ears as he said: “I knew from the start of the adventure that I didn’t fit in—and that there were limits to what I could stomach; and whatever happened is my own damned fault for procrastinating and putting off the inevitable. Christ, I’d smother if I stayed here any longer, moving in circles like a rider on an eternal carousel until I get so dazed and so dizzied that I forget how to get off the damned thing! I meant to tell you when I came back today, Alexa, although I can’t blame you for thinking—whatever the hell it is you’re thinking. But whether you believe it or not, I was going to tell you. And—dammit...”
“Don’t! I... Please, I only wish you would not find it necessary to—to tell me any more lies or...or make me any more apologies, or...just don’t, do you hear me?” Still held in his arms, Alexa turned her head upward to talk into the dark blur that was thankfully all she could see of his face; and she heard words again coming from somewhere removed from herself—pouring down on them both like the incessant dripping of the rain. “I tried to tell you before, I just said. I tried to tell you that I had already made up my mind—that I want to belong only to myself again, and to live only for myself and to do only as I please, and when! I am going to Spain in two weeks' time. I’m going with—Belle-Mere. She needs me now, you see, and she has persuaded me that I might need her. We shall use each other for a while, I suppose! But I want to take lovers if I choose to do so, and I feel I must tell you that I will, if I want to! Do you hear me, Nicholas? Do you hear me? I don’t give a damn...not a damn what you threaten me with or...or...even what you might do to me! I don’t care. You made me... You made me not..,” Racked by sobs, she had begun to pound furiously against him while she tried to force more words out and could not. Until she finally had no more strength left in her wrists, and instead of beating against him her fingers now clung to the wet fabric of his shirt and she lay there crouched with her face against his heart, sobbing helplessly.
“Ah hell, Alexa! You poor, tormented little bitch! You can stop your damned weeping now. And you can take your lovers and have them or discard them—as many as you want. Why not? I suppose you’re right, and it is only fair after all. And I don’t want any of your goddamned money—it was yours to begin with and it always has been yours, whether you knew it or not! Does that satisfy you and make you feel better? Will it stop your damned caterwauling?”
When she could not make herself stop he swore violently under his breath and nearly had to carry her to where he had tethered his shivering mount. And so, holding her in the saddle before him, he brought her back and left her to answer all of Harriet’s questions, while he took the horse to the stables and sent to the house for enough brandy to make them all drunk as well as warm.
Chapter 54
How fast all the cards could collapse, one over the other, until there was not one left standing. And once you’d done with that deck, of course you’d start on another—that is, if you had enough patience to go on and on with the same game that was only, when one looked at it sensibly, building up in order to tear down again.
