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  “No. Time goes so quickly.” She sank into a chair.

  “Well, yes it does. Look at you—”

  “Yes, look at me—one marriage under my belt already.” And there it was: spread out between the two of them like a deck of cards waiting for players.

  “Oh, Alex. It weren’t your fault. What happened…it was a terrible thing for your father to do to you.”

  “How much do you know? How much does Tom know?”

  “Madame wrote. I’ll get the letter.”

  Annie unfolded what Alex could see was a piece of stationery from David’s home in Italy. She took it and read:

  “Castello Montegufoni,

  San Gimignano,

  Toscana, Italia

  2 Novembre, 1885

  My dear Monsieur and Madame Yost,

  I regret I have been unable to write for some time to let you know how things fare for us. It has not been good, and my time has been taken with many things concerning Alexandra. I am sure you will forgive me when you learn that which has come to pass.

  As you are aware, Alexandra, as the daughter of a Duke, was to make her debut last year, and indeed she did. The parties are endless, I think, but Lady A. was a great success and had much written of her in the papers. One particular young man, the heir to another great lord, a Marquess, seemed completely enraptured by her and paid her great attentions. I don’t have to explain to you my young ward was not in the least interested and in addition had been warned by friends this young man was not of suitable character, shall we say?

  Despite this, her father decided this was the perfect match for Lady A.—to unite two great families, two huge fortunes and no doubt to get Alexandra out of his house. When she protested, he threatened her that if she did not proceed with this marriage which by now had been arranged, he would disinherit her and throw her out without a sou. Perhaps you cannot understand, from where you are, Alexandra had no option but to proceed. If she refused, the only work she might then find to support herself would be as a governess, and her father would certainly manage to prevent anyone from hiring her. Ladies of such birth have no other decent means of support.

  In all this you will want to know where Lord David and I were. Lord David was at his home here in Italia but wrote to his sister to say perhaps it was for the best, once married she could at least carry on as she wished and would be free of her father. As for me, I tried to intervene on her behalf and was summarily dismissed—sent back to Paris leaving Alexandra without any confidante. This was the worst thing for her. But before I left, my darling formed a small plan.

  The marriage took place. Alexandra had been given laudanum to calm her nerves but she never took this. She pretended to be resigned and happy, I understand, throughout the whole procedure of the wedding, and the couple left for Paris on their wedding trip.

  Alexandra had told me she would never let this man touch her in that way you will comprehend. How she thought this could possibly go on indefinitely, I do not know, but that was her intention. The first night, on the boat train, apparently was not a problem as the groom was far too drunk to think of such matters. Settled into their hotel in Paris, the next night Alexandra managed to slip some of her laudanum into his drink and so another night was passed in this way. The third night was similar; they had been out to dine with his friends, Alexandra returning early on her own.

  On the next day, Lord John went off riding in the Bois de Boulogne leaving his bride to her painting. She visited me at this time, not knowing her husband would return early. When he was alone in the hotel suite, he had found the laudanum and when Alexandra came in, he was in a rage. He threw the bottle at her and somehow managed to grab her palette knife to strike her on the face. This is not a sharp implement you may know—it has no point—but the sides of it can cut. Alexandra went to grab the knife thereby cutting her palm and making her hand useless for defense. At this time, his lordship took his riding crop and beat her.

  It was the maid who found her later that evening. Lord John was gone and my darling was rushed to the hospital. The only good thing was the maid found my Paris address. I went there as soon as I was told—I will not go into what I found in that dreadful place, what I saw—but I wired Lord David immediately. He came for us both and so here we are in Italia where hopefully Alexandra can make a full recovery.

  I am so sorry I do not write better news for you. This has been a most trying time for us all and I hope to have better news next time.

  Your friend,

  Helene Champrigand”

  Alex put the letter back into the envelope. “Does anyone else know?”

  “No. Not from us.”

  “David wrote to Father that the marriage must be annulled. He told him it had never been consummated, and if an annulment was not arranged Father would never see him again. Of course,” she looked across at Annie, “David now has his own money from the Italian estate and he knew he could apply this pressure to Papa who holds title and inheritance and the whole question of family and aristocracy above all else. I recuperated whilst arguments—letters—went back and forth. In the end, just so as to appear to still have the upper hand, and to get me out of sight as this was now a colossal scandal, Papa wrote he would arrange the annulment forthwith on one condition: that I returned to Colorado.”

  She stopped and smiled at Annie to see if she understood. “You see, I had never let on how much I loved this place because I knew…I knew if I did, I would never see it again. And Papa thought he was punishing me by separating me from David and sending me here. Funny, isn’t it?”

  “Oh, Alex,” Annie reached for her hand, “this has all been so terrible for you.”

  “Yes. But look at the results,” she added with a smile.

  ****

  Sue Ann babbled on while Alex lay back on the floor, a stockinged foot waving about as she listened to the two children. Just home from school, they sat by Alex pulling strands of her auburn hair out, Medusa-like, in snaking lengths which J.J. carefully arranged.

  “Tell me again how you became a lady.” Sue Ann wore a dreamy expression. “You should be a princess. Why aren’t you a princess?”

  Alex laughed. “Princesses are the daughters of kings and queens, sweetheart. I am the daughter of a duke so I get called Lady and my brother gets one of my father’s lesser titles, which in his case is Lord David, Earl of Lavenbrook. The previous duke was my father’s uncle and if he had had a son, the title would have passed to the son but since he didn’t, my father inherited it and I was a born a lady. Poor old Uncle Oliver is just plain Mister because he wasn’t the son of a duke.” She stopped for a minute. “Did you follow any of that?”

  Annie looked over at the three of them, content with her extended family.

  J.J. was impatient with the girls, however. “Can you read this to us? Miz Dawson reads it but—”

  “Oh, stop, you silly.” Sue Ann grabbed the book away. “No one wants to hear your silly old book.”

  “Sue Ann,” Annie reprimanded her. “You’ve been droning on to Lady Alex, now let J.J. have a chance!”

  “Sorry, Mama.”

  Alex took the book and looked at it. “Little Lord Fauntleroy by Frances Hodgson Burnett. What the h— I mean,” she said getting the eye from Annie, “whatever is this about?”

  Sue Ann moved up alongside her and continued pulling lengths of Alex’s hair out in a fan about her head.

  “If you read it,” J.J. said sensibly, “you’ll find out. I’m up to here I think,” he pointed to somewhere on page seven.

  Alex sighed. “All right then. I’ll read for a bit. But I’ll have to go soon.”

  “No, no, stay for dinner,” begged Sue Ann.

  “Yes, stay Alex,” Annie said.

  “I can’t really. I shouldn’t. Oliver will be expecting me and anyway we don’t eat until eight up at the house so— Ow!”

  “Sorry,” J.J. said, letting go of some of her hair he had pulled. “Are you going to read?”

  Lyin
g back, Alex rested her right foot on her left knee and held the book above her face. “‘He told him he might live as he pleased, and die where he pleased, that he should be cut off from his family forever and that he need never expect help from his father as long as he lived’… Lucky him,” she commented, not hearing the others come in.

  “‘The Captain was very sad when he read the letter; he was very fond of England…’ Well, the dang fool had never been to Colorado, that’s for certain.” She slammed down the book.

  “You recognize that foot, Jess?” a familiar voice said.

  “Can’t say I do, Cal. A might too small to carry a proper person I’da thought.”

  Alex sat up and stared at the two of them over the top of the sofa. They had to stop themselves from laughing when they saw her hair messed up so much, but she thought she had the last laugh. “Have a good ride today, Mr. Makepeace?” She started to pull on her boots.

  “I had a good ride, Ma’am. Found the leg thing on the sidesaddle is a dang good place to hang a rope.”

  “You didn’t.” She stomped into her boots and tried to see out the door.

  Tom came. “Two extra for dinner, Annie, Or is it three?” he added when he saw Alex.

  “Two. I’m off,” She gave the children a hug each.

  “Yeah, you remember, Tom.” There was a hint of amusement in Jesse’s voice. “She lives on a ranch but she don’t...”

  “EAT BEEF!” the three men said in unison.

  Tom shook with laughter. “We having beef?” he asked his wife.

  “We are. But we’re having chocolate cake too.” Annie looked at Alex with a questioning brow.

  “Now, here’s the thing,” put in Cal, chewing his gum pensively. “Ladilex don’t eat beef but she can sure put away enough chocolate cake to fill a man for winter. How d’you do that? How d’you do that and stay so dang small, is what I wanna know?”

  “Magic, pure magic, Cal.” Alex turned back to Annie. “Dinner is very tempting despite the company of your other guests but I really must go. It wouldn’t be fair to leave poor old Uncle Oliver on just my second night back.” She turned back to the men. “And I better not find any sidesaddle on my mount, Jesse Makepeace.”

  “No, Ma’am. Sidesaddle’s moving on to Garrett tomorrow I think. What do you say, Cal?”

  Alex laughed. “And Tom…I really do need another horse. Dainty is ready for pasture.”

  “Well, you’ll have to see Garrison. He’s in charge of the remuda.”

  “Oh, she can ride Brandy for now,” offered Jesse, thinking he’d do just about anything to see her smile.

  “Really? Really?” she repeated. “Isn’t he your cutting horse?”

  “Naw, got a new cuttin’ horse. I jus’ keep Brandy in my string in case one of the others is lame. But I do want my saddle back. Been ridin’ with some old—”

  “You mean…” She put her hand to her mouth. “You really didn’t find it? I told Joe—”

  “Oh, yeah, Joe. Joe thought it was a great joke. You don’t really think he told me where the dang thing was?”

  Alex stared at him for a moment. She began to say something but suddenly was overcome with such happiness at being with her friends again she had to stop to hold back tears and looked away.

  “Speaking of magic,” Jesse went on, “circus is comin’. Me and Cal thought you might want to—”

  “Yes! Yes please,” she cut him off as she headed for the door and yanked it open. “Bye everyone.” She started to hurry out. “I’ll see you at Church, Jess.”

  “What the heck happened there?” puzzled Tom as he watched her mount up.

  “Uh-oh,” said Cal. He looked at Jesse who was watching Alex ride away. “Uh-oh.”

  Chapter Four

  It was so good to be home, it was so good to be back. For the most part Alex was able to put things behind her. She loved being there, loved all the men, the way they talked, the way they moved, the way they smelled of leather and fresh air, their clothes, their manners and etiquette. They were more gentlemen than any lord she had ever met, kinder, gentler and better mannered than any aristocrat from London. Maybe it was a matter of feeling safe around them, of feeling protected; she didn’t know, wasn’t sure, but with Annie and Tom to see every day, she was certainly happier now than she had been in a long time.

  Yet church on Sunday was not a pleasant prospect. Oliver regularly used the church gathering as an occasion, stepping down from his buggy and smoothing the creases from his suit before helping Alex out. He would make sure to see as many friends as possible between the carriage and the church door, and give a nod to the two hands who often joined him on Sundays: Jesse Makepeace and Garrett Landry. Jesse had been brought up in Texas in a strict but loving household; having been taken under Tom Yost’s wing when he came north, Jess’ good manners and steady upbringing had not deserted him. Garrett, on the other hand, went as if it were a trial he had to attend with himself as the accused. As for Oliver, his motives were purely social; there was a lot of news to be had on a Sunday, business deals to be made and invitations and engagements to be proffered or accepted. And there was Alex to show off, watch the gentry make little curtsies or bows to his niece, the daughter of the Duke of Faringdon.

  But not now.

  With letters from home reaching the British ranchers, along with newspaper clippings from London, Alex was fairly certain of what to expect. Oliver was, of course, an indication of the English community’s attitude toward what had transpired. As far as her uncle was concerned, Alex had reneged on her marital vows and he was charged with the task of picking up the pieces.

  ****

  Jesse and Garrett followed them on horseback to the English Church, but Jesse came round to help Alex down from the buggy. Her face was glum; she looked up at him as if she wanted to say something but then turned and went on to Oliver, who stood there waiting. He hesitated before giving her his arm and walking on.

  This Sunday, there seemed to be more folks than usual outside the church. “Is this a welcomin’ committee?” Jesse whispered to Garrett. Garrett looked around, then stopped behind Alex and Oliver. She turned to look back at them, distinctly nervous as Oliver started to talk with friends.

  Low voices spoke in whispers behind Jesse. Two of the smartly dressed ranchers’ sons snickered, “…certainly like to get my pecker into that one.”

  “You’d risk it?” said the other. “I heard she poisoned her husband. Tried to kill the poor sod.”

  “Oh, yes, but I’d teach her a trick or …Ow! Darn fool, watch where you’re going.”

  “Oh, I am so sorry,” Jesse declared with mock sincerity, having taken a step backward on to the fellow’s foot with his heeled boot. “I do beg your pardon.”

  “How could she show her face?” an elderly woman said to her friend. “Why, it’s a perfect disgrace, a girl like that. Divorced!”

  “Oh, I don’t think she’s divorced, Ethel. Not yet anyway. Divorces back home take forever. They have to go through Parliament.”

  It went on until at last they got to their seats. Jesse listened to it all with growing tension; whatever else she might be, Alex was still part of the Faringdon family and they all looked after one another. He slipped into their pew from the far side and moved up next to Alex, her face set like stone, looking straight ahead, and he saw she had been crying. Jesse reached into his pocket and extended his hand and offered her a clean handkerchief.

  Alex looked at his hand, then up at him. Little lines had appeared at the sides of his eyes, a deep sprinkle of freckles on his tanned face, and a small cut where he’d nicked himself shaving. She remembered the time he had lifted her up when she was eight because she had seen a child at the train station hold out its arms to its father and Alex had done the same to Jesse, and when he had picked her up she had been tongue-tied and spellbound by him, enthralled by his cornflower blue eyes and long lashes and the shaggy hair she had loved to play with at the back of his neck. She had thought he was the most
beautiful person she had ever seen. Now, sitting next to him, she noticed the “parentheses” around his mouth as he smiled at her, and a small mole at the end of his sideburns. But just his being there and being the same Jesse she had always known made the tears come faster and she took the proffered hanky and discreetly dabbed her eyes, then looked forward again.

  There was nothing more between them. She sat silently during the hymns, listening to Jesse’s light tenor, while on her other side her uncle’s deep baritone was prominent but off-key. After the service Oliver fairly rushed Alex to the rig and Garrett and Jesse went on, as always, to the Yost’s for lunch.

  ****

  Jesse’s need to know the truth about Alex—whether she was or was not married—was painful. If he had felt he had let her down when she was whisked away five years ago, then his need to protect her now surprised even him. He burst in to the Homestead.

  “Is Alex married?”

  Tom was reading at the table but at a glance from Annie, he put down the paper. “Children go outside until lunch, please.”

  “Mama, is Lady Alex married?” Sue Ann wanted to know.

  “No, she isn’t,” Annie replied. “Now do what your father asks, please.”

  Jesse’s unease was mounting as the four adults watched the children bang the back door behind them. He said, “Sorry. Sorry, Tom I wasn’t thinkin’.”

  “No, you weren’t.” Tom waited a minute. “What happened?”

  Jesse slumped at the table while Garrett leaned against the mantel.

  “It were pretty durn awful at the church for her,” said Garrett. “Folk ignorin’ her or being right rude. Rumors flyin’ ’bout.”

  “They said she’d been married and is getting a divorce. Is that right? Said she tried to poison her husband.” Jesse’s eyes searched Tom’s face for an answer.

  “Oh, what nonsense!” Annie whipped the cloth down and took a seat at the table. “Tell them, Tom.”