Chapter 6 Alex
Alex
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Alex said, clapping Raj on the shoulder. He’d had enough of listening to the man blether on to the group of men surrounding him. “I must go see my new wife.”
Alex had been patient all evening. He’d carefully introduced Raj to whoever he requested an introduction to: dukes, marquesses, earls, viscounts, barons, peers, members of Parliament, senior army officers.
He had a feeling that if he slapped a title on a teapot, Raj would be clamouring for an introduction within minutes.
His new father-in-law had always been a chatty type, but during their one-to-one meetings, he’d never really understood the extent of his gregariousness. The man truly came alive in company, sweeping his companions off their feet until he had them right where he wanted them.
Had Raj done that to him? It had been so long since they met, he remembered little of their first introduction. Alex had just wanted to secure further medical treatment for men like Ben.
Raj wanted to be the centre of attention at all times, it seemed, somehow managing to eclipse his daughter at her own wedding. “Are you sure?” Raj asked. “I haven’t even mentioned Albie’s Christenin—”
“I’m sure.” Alex put a little bit more steel into his tone.
Raj’s eyebrows lifted. “Very well. I’ll send over all the wedding-related paperwork after I get back to London.”
The dowry paperwork. Alex gave a stiff nod, trying not to think of how uneasy the transaction made him feel.
Around him, the ballroom teemed with life.
The rows of chairs that sat here earlier in the day were gone, replaced with dancers orbiting the floor in a constant whirl, bringing the band’s music to life.
Alex could feel the heavy drumbeats travelling through the parquet flooring, pumping melodic adrenaline into his veins.
He caught sight of half of his family on the dance floor.
His cousin, Emmeline, laughed into her husband’s neck as he spun her around, her skirts wrapping around his legs.
Lily was dancing with Raj’s son, George, giggling as he almost steered her into a column.
Alex caught sight of his heavily pregnant goddaughter, Caroline, sitting at one of the many tables bordering the room, absent-mindedly balancing a plate of hors d'oeuvres on her bump, her husband David at her side.
Her husband and ex father-in-law. Alex had a little internal grumble about that, but then the man did dote on her. And Caroline had freely chosen to marry David—wasn’t that exactly what Alex was hoping to accomplish for Lily and Ben?
Finally, he saw the woman who, only this morning, he thought of as a mere wedding guest, but was, in fact, now his new wife. She reclined on a chaise longue near the other end of the ballroom, half hidden in an alcove decorated in delicate celestial motifs gilded in silver.
Here she was, surrounded by her family and friends, and yet Alex had never seen anyone look so alone. Wasn’t the bride supposed to be the centrepiece of any wedding?
No one had danced with her. No one was even acknowledging her.
A sharp pang of guilt tolled in his chest. He’d been so concerned with escaping from Raj that he’d ignored his new wife.
He’d simply assumed she was surrounded by a gaggle of titled friends, dancing the night away in celebration of her new status as a marchioness.
A younger, female version of Raj, basking in the glow of everyone’s attention.
His feet moved before he made a conscious decision, weaving a passage through the crowd of well-wishers trying to draw him into their conversations. It was only when he neared her that he realised she had a sketchbook balanced on a cushion in front of her, and a pencil in her hand.
“What are you drawing?” he asked.
She sucked in a sharp breath, her sheepish expression reminding him of when he found Lily scribbling in lipstick on the bathroom tiles when she was little. “Nothing.” She slammed the notebook shut, tucking it into the frayed leather bag beside her.
Very well. Alex wasn’t going to pester her. He held out an inviting hand. “Would you like to dance?”
Savi’s eyes drifted over to the crowd of influential men Raj was curating. “I wouldn’t advise that.”
“Oh?”
“If we go over to the dance floor, my father is sure to hook us into being his circus elephants for the rest of the night. Especially seeing as you’ve only just escaped his clutches. It’s only a matter of time before he comes sniffing around again like a baying hound.”
So she’d been watching him—and she didn’t seem too keen to get involved in her father’s scheming. His eyes narrowed slightly as he assessed her, thinking back on their brief conversation this morning. “In that case, shall we abandon the party and get that drink?”
Savi practically threw her hand at him, letting him hoist her to her feet.
It was the complete opposite of what he’d expected her to do. How intriguing. Apparently she hadn’t inherited the attention-seeking gene from her father.
“Come on,” he murmured, checking over his shoulder that no one was looking. He led her farther away from the dance floor, over to the next alcove along the wall. At first glance, it was identical to the one Savi had been hiding in, celestial gilding and all. “Would you like me to carry your bag?”
Savi responded with curt immediacy. “No, thank you.”
Ducking into the next alcove, Alex reached for the doorknob carefully disguised as a silver moon—and turned it. With one final look at the ballroom, he pushed open the wide-set door and led Savi inside, closing it behind him as quietly as he could.
“This is one of many shortcuts in the castle,” Alex explained, gesturing at the spacious, seemingly never-ending hallway. “It’s extremely handy if you’re in a hurry, or you want to avoid someone.”
“Or an entire ballroom of someones.” Savi’s lips curved. “This is much cleaner than I’d expect a secret passageway to be.”
“It’s not so much secret as private.” He sent his new wife a reassuring glance. “Family only.”
“I’m honoured to be included.”
A comfortable silence fell between them as Alex mulled over her words, leading her down the long hallway. When it came to her family, her inclusion seemed to be more of an afterthought.
How sad. Growing up, Mother and Father always included the three of them—him, Ben, and Lily—in anything and everything. There were no preferences or favourites. The three of them were equals. Equally treated and equally loved.
Eventually, Alex broke the silence just as he turned them off the main corridor. “Can I ask you something?” They were in the South Wing proper now, and it was safe to come out. The wedding guests would have to traipse through half a mile of corridors to hunt them down.
“If I may ask you something in return.”
Alex stopped them at one of the many doors dotted along the corridor, unable to resist a smidgen of theatrics.
“I’m an open book,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, throwing the door wide to reveal the family library—a room in which every square inch of wall was covered in books of all shapes and sizes, from academic elephant folios filled with detailed illustrations of animals new to science, right down to abandoned pocket bibles gathering dust.
Alex made his way over to a glazed walnut drinks cabinet situated between the plush little seating area, gesturing an arm to invite her to sit. “On her wedding day, a bride should be the most important person in the room, and yet I feel like you were barely included today.”
Savi sank into the dark green Chesterfield sofa, scanning the room around her. “That isn’t a question. I’ll have a glass of that peach brandy, if you’re offering.”
“I was.” He duly poured out a glass for each of them before handing hers over.
“You’re drinking peach brandy?” Savi’s eyebrows raised.
Alex sank into the couch opposite her, taking a small sip. “What’s wrong with that?”
“I’m just…pleasantly surprised. I’m so used to men drinking nothing but masculine drinks like rum or absinthe. I offered a man some blueberry wine once, and he looked at me like I’d invited him to remove his testicles.”
A laugh burst from him before he could stop it. “I think my masculinity will survive a fruity drink or two. Besides, I’ve found that traditionally feminine alcoholic drinks taste far better than their masculine counterparts.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying for years,” she burst out, her expression victorious.
Alex caught himself staring at her, a hopeless grin tugging at his lips, before he remembered what his question was. “I guess what I meant…” He trailed off for a moment, trying not to trip over his phrasing. “Were you happy with how today turned out?”
“As in, the wedding?”
“Where the focus was during the wedding.” She was at the altar with him. She sat next to him at dinner. But other than that, her father had been courting every spare inch of attention.
“Oh, absolutely.” Her nod was vigorous. Perhaps the surprise showed on his face, because she sent him an amused glance. “I dislike social situations. I’m far happier off in the corner somewhere, sketching away, whilst my father hogs the limelight he so desperately craves.”
Her answer assuaged some of the guilt that had started to creep around his conscience. Some. “That’s good to know.” He’d do his best to accommodate her preferences during the marriage. “Your father mentioned you were an artist. Portraits, wasn’t it?”
Savi’s face devolved into a grimace. “God, no. Portraits are my worst nightmare. I prefer to draw flora and fauna—ideally in their natural habitat.” Her eyes slid away from his briefly. “Although I do a certain amount of life art as well.”
Huh. He could have sworn Raj had said portraits. “When it comes to the art world, I’m something of a philistine. Remind me, what’s life art?”
His new wife’s teeth sank into her bottom lip. “Life art is drawing the human form.” She paused for a beat, carefully observing him. “Usually naked. Always naked, if I’m honest.”