Alicia was in her most daring
and provocative mood, tormenting and flattering him by turns; the
reflections from her rose-colored parasol dappling her pale skin with
warm color; her beautiful ungloved hands and arms, bare to the elbow,
teasing the senses of the man beside her. Suddenly he had thrown his arm
round her, and crushed her to him, kissing the smooth cool face and the
dazzling hair. And she had nestled up to him and laughed--not the least
abashed or astonished; so that even then, through his excitement, there
had struck a renewed and sharp speculation as to her twenty-four hours'
engagement to the Curate, in the spring of the year; as to the
privileges she must have allowed him; and no doubt to others before him.
At that time, it was tacitly understood between them that no engagement
could be announced. Alicia was well aware that Brookshire was looking
on; that Brookshire was on the side of Diana Mallory, the forsaken, and
was not at all inclined to forgive either the deserting lover or the
supplanting damsel; so that while she was not loath to sting and mystify
Brookshire by whatever small signs of her power over Oliver Marsham she
could devise; though she queened it beside him on his coach, and took
charge with Lady Lucy of his army of women canvassers; though she faced
the mob with him at Hartingfield, on the occasion of the first
disturbance there in June, and had stood beside him, vindictively
triumphant on the day of his first hard-won victory, she would wear no
ring, and she baffled all inquiries, whether of her relations or her
girl friends.
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