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Part Fifteen--Abject Stupidity

Posted on Monday, 03-Aug-98

alfway through the night, Alexa found herself wide awake. Her head was pounding faintly but she didn't care. She was excited and consumed with the memory of her dream. The actual activity of her dreams eluded her, coming and going in disjointed images. But the music she remembered. She shut her eyes tightly holding onto that moment between sleeping and waking where dreams remained with absolute clarity.

If I go back to sleep now I will lose it, Alexa realized, scrambling out of the tangled sheets. She landed in a heap on the floor, groaning in pain. Determinedly, she hummed the refrain over and over, committing it to memory as she groped for the candlestick. She found it when she knocked it over. She cursed and squinted, trying to force her eyes to adjust to the last embers of the fire. Still humming through gritted teeth, she found the candle, a match, and with the new light, crept upstairs to the attic.

he couldn't write the harmonies fast enough. Inking the pen was a bother. Blotches on the paper became blotches on her hands. None of it mattered as long as she recorded what was playing in her head. She worked steadily and swiftly, occasionally peering at the shortening candle. Alexa was happiest at this moment when every note in her head echoed correctly on the page.

An hour before dawn, she hit an impasse. Her eyes felt leaden and her body was heavy with fatigue. Alexa had worked through these physical impediments before, but it was almost painful when the music fell silent. It was like going deaf while standing dead center on a crowded street.

She got up, cramped and upset, pacing the floor in frustration. She was tired beyond belief. Her head ached and every muscle was screaming for sleep. But Alexa was scared of missing the brass ring again. She had made a good start on a fantastic song. It didn't matter if no one ever heard it. It was the fact that she could write it...a hit song. One guaranteed to go straight to the top, not because she rubbed elbows with the right people, but because it was that good. Her talent met the challenge. She stared at the half finished piece in frustration. So close. So close.

She sighed and approached the wal-in closet absently. It was just something to explore and fidget with until she got a breakthrough. It wasn't as if she was actually seeing it. She lifted the latch up and down, making a rhythm with sharp tap of the metal again the wood. Then she pulled, surprised that it fought and stuck. She pulled with all her strength, absolutely curious now. Finally the wood creaked and gave, opening to reveal a yawning darkness within. It was deeper than she had supposed. Alexa did not believe in ghosts, but that didn't stop the shiver from moving up and down her spine. Determined to address her fears, she stepped inside. To her renewed horror, the door banged shut behind her and dimly she heard the latch fall into place. Terrified suddenly, she turned and kicked at the door, hitting it with her fists in an effort to open it. But it was sealed tight. From the outside.

"DAMN!" Alexa yelled, kicking the door with her bare feet and wincing with the pain. "I don't even have a candle."

She slid miserably down one wall and sat on the floor. It was an hour before dawn. An hour before anyone would be up. And heaven knew how long before anyone came looking for her. She had made enough noise getting to the attic and no one had stirred. She drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around her legs. Dressed only in her nightclothes, without a blanket or even a shawl, she was cold and cranky. And had no one to blame but herself.

There was no point in screaming for help. Katy would find her in the morning. Frozen and half dead probably, but she would be found. She closed her eyes to the darkness and held as much warmth to herself as she could as she fell asleep.

Hours later she could hear voices calling for her. "IN HERE!" She called out loudly, groggily getting to her feet. She was stiff with cold as she banged a weak hand against the door.

"In here, sir!" It was Katy's voice.

Someone started tugging on the door and Alexa did her best to push it open. Finally it gave again, creaking open. Unprepared, Alexa tumbled out, right into Wentworth's arms.

"My God! You're completely frozen!" He pressed her against him as he took a blanket from Katy and wrapped her in it. "What in blue blazes are you doing in the closet? We've been looking all over for you!"

He picked her up off the floor and began striding downstairs. Alexa looked longingly at the papers strewn by the piano but Wentworth did not stop, hurriedly walking straight to her bedroom. Katy hurried alongside, pulling the sheets down as Wentworth slid Alexa onto the bed and quickly covering her with blankets that had been warmed by the fire.

"Bring some hot tea," he instructed.

Katy ran off, leaving them alone. Alexa tried grinning at Wentworth for she saw the concern replaced by a slow burning anger. "What were you thinking off? How did you get there?"

Alexa was still groggy and chilled to the bone. She shivered under the blankets and with a tremendous amount of embarrassment, recounted how she got stuck in the closet. Wentworth was shaking his head at her tale and not looking at her, using the blanket to vigorously rub some warmth into her arms and legs.

"Go ahead and laugh at me," Alexa offered. "I know how stupid it is."

He did snicker at that point. "Only you could get into that kind of trouble."

"Tell me something I don't know," Alexa replied softly. "Please don't think I'm rude, but all I want to do is sleep. And get warm."

"Go to sleep." His smile faded as his hand rubbed her forehead. He leaned forward and replaced his hand with his lips. "Don't get sick, Alexa. Not here. Not now. Not when I can't get you to a real doctor."

"What do you mean?" Alexa murmured as sleep beckoned her. "Dr. Hallister is just up the road to Uppercross." She smiled vaguely, barely seeing his beloved face. His hands stilled as she fell asleep. The smile on her face remained, for at that moment, she realized what she had done wrong to her song. And how to fix it.

The next day confirmed that Alexa would suffer nothing harsher than the flu. Alexa refused to think about how many people actually died of the flu in 1814. She was made of tougher stuff. She had immunity and would be fine. On the other hand, Wentworth was almost obsessed with keeping her warm and in bed She complied for the first few days, for there was nothing worse than a head cold when one didn't have any kleenex. And she really, really missed facial tissues right then.

"The only thing worse than feeling as if you're going to die," she said to Wentworth one afternoon, "is that you probably won't."

He didn't laugh as she had intended, instead scowling and growling that she should not even attempt to speak about dying.

"Lighten up," she said through her congestion. "It's just a cold."

Ill or not, Alexa hated being bored and she fussed until Katy threw her hands up and relented. Katy brought her notes down from the attic as set up a makeshift desk by the bed. Wentworth was annoyed with the whole arrangement, but not even he could dissuade Alexa. It was a good arrangement for a couple of days, but after the fever broke and the cold eased, Alexa began itch for the feel of ivory keys beneath her fingers.

One morning after Wentworth and Katy's punctual checks on her, Alexa dressed herself. She stared at the hair pins for a long moment and decided to leave her hair down for now. She brushed it back from her face and over her shoulders, marveling at how long it was growing. Then she went up to the attic.

There was a new lock on the attic door that made Alexa grin. Wentworth must have ordered it put there, making the closet impenetrable. Then she sighed and, arranging her notes on the piano top, began to play her revisions.

She was startled by the sound of a throat being cleared. She looked up and Wentworth was standing by the doorway with a stern look on his face.

"I suppose you think you're feeling better."

"I am the best judge, don't you think?"

He smiled a little. "That's debatable." He came into the room and closed the door behind him. "What is so urgent that you were here in the middle of the night and again today?"

She waved her hands over the sheets. "You know how I get. I had a dream with this melody and I couldn't rest until it was on paper. But that night, I was stuck. There was something wrong and I couldn't figure out what it was."

"And now you have?"

She smiled. "Yes. You see I was all wrong about what the song was. I wrote something people could dance to. That was my mistake. It's meant to be slower, softer..."

"A love song." He whispered, coming to sit beside her on the piano bench.

"Yes."

"Play it for me."

Alexa cleared her throat and couldn't look at him. "I don't think I can manage to sing it right now."

"Then just play the melody," he asked, "please."

She ran shaking hands over the keys, playing the tune as it was meant to be heard, with feeling and poignancy. She sensed more than felt Wentworth slide closer, a strong arm coming around her waist to rest a hand on the piano bench on the other side of her. She felt his hand teased the hair off her shoulder, brushing the strands away from her neck. The melody continued unfalteringly, melding its first audience performance with the feel of his breath as he ran his lips against her neck and jaw. Alexa abandoned all pretense near the end of the piece, turning to face him and slide her arms around his neck as she kissed him. There was more passion between them at this moment than ever before. Alexa knew now she loved him, loved the feel of him pressed against her, loved the invasion of his tongue as he kissed her. She was in deep, and in deep, deep trouble.

He was the one to break away first, straining for breath as he leaned his forehead on hers. "What am I going to do with you, Alexa?"

Alexa could not answer him. In truth, she wasn't even sure what the question meant.

Part 16 -- Discovery

Posted on Sunday, 09-Aug-98

Alexa had spent the majority of her childhood teasing those who had been addle-witted by love and the majority of her adult life writing romantic songs. She had never held much respect for those who became giddy at the sight of their beloved or morose at their absence. But when Katy slyly commented on her constant preoccupation, Alexa knew she had been found out. She made the usual excuses to Katy, fooling neither of them, but the pretense made her feel better.

That she loved Wentworth at all was a complete surprise. Through the beginning of their acquaintance, Alexa had remained singularly unimpressed with his conduct and ideas. In those early days, he had been temperamental and brooding - prone to sharp comments rather than constructive solutions. But the last few weeks had changed him, tempered his moods and made him more approachable. Alexa did not want to give all the credit to Louisa Musgrove, because she had never believed him attached to her. But somewhere in the weeks between the accident in Lyme and his return to Kellynch, he had grown a sense of humor and outlook that made Alexa believe they had more in common that she had first assumed. Whatever had been missing before had flared into an undeniable attraction now.

But the guilt still ate at her. Alexa had replied to neither Anne nor Sophy's last letters. In truth, she could not even read them for she dreaded they undeserved affections. Alexa was afraid of finding that Anne still pined for Wentworth or that Sophy had discovered their compromising living arrangement. If she was unwilling to read the letters, she also did not have very many hours to herself. Wentworth had commanded almost every waking moment. He followed her around the house, asking silly questions as she planned menus or supervised some household project. He had seemingly forsaken his friendship with Charles Musgrove, having avoided all contact with persons outside of the household. In fact, he hardly ventured outside at all except to tour the gardens with Alexa.

Still, Alexa relished their moments alone from every stolen kiss in the garden to the long conversations they had after dinner. But she hugged the knowledge of her affections to herself - unable and unwilling to share them. For all his caresses and sweet words, Wentworth had never declared himself or spoken of the future. And in an era where engagements were made before couples even held hands, his silence alarmed Alexa. She loved him, but she would not become his mistress.

Such thoughts began to consume her over the days that followed. Inevitably, she withdrew from him - became more guarded in her behavior. Belatedly, perhaps, but more guarded. Wentworth was noticeably alarmed by her sudden aloofness. He redoubled his efforts to be near her. And it became another contest of wills. He seemed to be in every corner she turned. And if it was flattering to be so loved, it was also unnerving to never be alone.

Alexa peered around her doorway down the hall before stepping out. It was a full hour before she usually rose but she had meant to get up even earlier tomorrow. She crept down the hall, willing her feet to tread lightly on the creaky floorboards. She stilled as she passed Wentworth's bedroom, hearing him already moving around inside, then proceeded even more carefully. All she wanted as a few moments alone to think and plan. And decide if she could still bear to leave him and what it would mean to stay.

Alexa quickly escaped to the back garden, going deeper into the foliage that she had ever before. Her head was bent with the weight of her thoughts and her conscience. She saw nothing of the new blooms around her.

"We meet again, Miss Matthews."

Alexa looked up and cried out in alarm. Mr. Mustache and Mr. Frumpy were standing in the path between her and Kellynch.

"You're on private property!" She said boldly, willing her voice to stay steady. "Leave!"

"That's no way to greet an old friend," Mr. Mustache leered, his eyes flicking up and down her body suggestively. Alexa felt stripped of her clothing by his gaze and just barely managed to hide a shudder of disgust. "You're hurting my feelings. I came here hoping we could spend some time together. Make our own music."

Alexa refused to sink to his level by replying to such a remark. Her eyes narrowed in contempt and turned to look at his companion. Intriguingly enough, Mr. Frumpy looked distinctly uncomfortable with the confrontation, looking anywhere but at her. As he backed away from them, Alexa realized that he would do nothing to stop his partner.

Mr. Mustache took a few large steps toward her, forcing her to quickly stumble back in alarm. "Don't play hard to get." He warned.

"I'm not playing. I AM hard to get." Alexa replied. "So don't even try it."

His hand shot forward and grabbed her arm, pulling her roughly until her shoulder wrenched in pain. She was pulled uncomfortably close to him and winced at the feel of his hot, rancid breath on her cheek. "You are a very beautiful woman, Miss Matthews. It would be a shame to have to change all of that. I like my women feisty...but only to a point."

Alexa felt sick to her stomach, wondering how she was going to get out of this. Drawing on all her courage, she whispered her reply, "You are a pig and a coward. You may be able to strong arm me, but you will never win. Even you wouldn't dare abducting me this close to Kellynch."

"Wouldn't I?" He growled and twisted her arm again. Alexa cried out in pain, feeling his fingers bruise her flesh and her shoulder burn in agony.

"Let her go," Alexa gasped at the welcome sound of Wentworth's voice behind her. She turned and through her tears, saw him fast approaching. "Let her go, NOW!"

The fear blossomed in Mr. Mustache's eyes and immediately she found herself free of the grip. She ran toward Wentworth, immediately burying herself in his arms. With Wentworth's solid frame to lean on, she found the courage to turn and face her attackers. Mr. Mustache was watching them with raised eyebrows and a smirk, hands resting on hips in disdain.

"Well, well, well..." was all he said.

"Get off the property." Wentworth's voice was a low, dangerous growl. "Don't make me force you out." Mr. Mustache raised his arms in mock surrender and began to inch his way backward out of the gardens. Mr. Frumpy looked shamefacedly at them. Wentworth turned his attention to the shorter man. "If I see you or your partner here again, I'll make sure you regret it."

Mr. Frumpy seemed to believe him, for he hustled himself and his friend out of the property all together. Alexa sobbed her relief and felt his arms come around her again.

"Are you all right?" He asked worriedly. Alexa nodded once then cried out in pain as his arm pressed against her strained shoulder. Wentworth muttered some choice swear words as he realized the damage done to her and brought her into the house. He gently led her to the morning room and sent for whatever ice remained in the house. When it arrived in chips, he wrapped a clean, thin cloth around it and approached her.

Alexa sat on a comfortable sofa with her eyes closed, head pressed backward on the cushions. She started when she felt his hands come to the buttons at the front of her dress.

"Don't fuss," he said softly and she noticed that they were completely alone.

Her heart hammered as he undid them gently and slid the fabric and strap of her corset off the pained shoulder. The ice pack was cold against her skin but he pressed it anyway, seeing to her injury with cool detachment. Alexa wished she could feel the same objectivity, but there was no way for her to forget how close he was sitting. She watched him carefully, unaware that her heart was in her eyes. When he sat back against the armrest, one hand still pressing on the ice pack, he noticed her look and met it questioningly.

"I don't know what you think of me," she said very, very softly. "But I don't want to be your mistress."

His other hand came up and cupped her jaw tenderly. "I know." The same hand brushed away stray tendrils from her forehead before he placed a gentle, rather chaste kiss there.

"What are we doing?" Alexa asked. "What do you want from me?"

"I don't know yet." He looked away. "I just don't want you to go to far from me okay? It's not safe out there." Alexa nodded, the fear returning in full force. "Don't worry." He said. "I'll take care of you. You're safe with me."

"I know." She said.

They sat in comfortable silence for long minutes until they were called to breakfast. Wentworth quickly shielded Alexa's undress from the eyes of the footman until the other man left the room. Alexa hurriedly straightened her clothing, still wincing a little at her shoulder. She took him hand as he helped her up from the sofa, stopping short when he did not step back. He pulled her arms around him and again cupped her face with both his hands, turning it upward toward his. He kissed her, just to the right of her mouth, sweetly catching the corner of it with his lips, and repeated it again on the other side.

"I need you to trust me." He said. "Do you trust me, Alexa?"

"Of course I do."

He hugged her to him tightly and with an arm around her, let her into the dining room.

Alexa spent the rest of the day upstairs in her room. Wentworth had insisted that she rest after her "ordeal" and although she was not in the least tired, her shoulder did ache unbearably. And still confused. Anne had written another letter, which sat on the same pile as the first. Alexa sat on the window seat and stared out, trying to avoid the sight of the letters at her feet. There would be no way to avoid Anne forever, and unkind of her to try. Perhaps there was news of her engagement to her cousin, Mr. Elliot.

As her room faced the main road, Alexa watched the comings and goings of the staff. She saw Cook set out to do the shopping and the shepherds shooing their flock away from the front lawns. She saw Wentworth exit the house and sat up in astonishment. He quickly made his way out of the manor grounds, glanced up and down the road, as if unsure of his direction, then began briskly walking towards town.

Why didn't he take his horse? Alexa wondered.

With a deep resigned sigh, Alexa opened Anne's first letter. It was as newsy as always and spoke in detail of the people in Bath and her reacquaintance with a Mrs. Smith. As she read on, Alexa began to frown in dismay. Anne was full of news of Captain Wentworth -- her astonishment at Louisa's engagement, their sudden meeting at a confectioner's shop, their conversation at a concert. The letter was almost gleeful and Alexa could not believe what she was reading. Had Anne mistaken someone else for Captain Wentworth? She reread the section -- but there was no mistaking her meaning. Quickly, she opened Anne's second letter and was shocked to read Anne's engagement announcement to Frederick Wentworth! Anne was ecstatic and she thanked Alexa over and over again for the part she played in their reunion. Apparently, Wentworth had been eloquent on how Alexa's interference had forced him to examine his emotions.

The lying BASTARD! Alexa fumed and stifled a sob as the pain of betrayal ripped through her. She knew this was right and that it was the way things should be. But it did not stop her from hating the very thought of him with anyone other than herself. Just to pour salt on the wound, Alexa opened Sophy's letter and read her account and ultimate surprise at the secret courtship.

I had no idea of Frederick's intentions, Sophy wrote. To think that all this had been happening under our noses! Although Anne tells me you had a hand in it. Sly child! Had you but confided in me I could have helped! But I suppose it was not your secret to tell. She went on in detail, recounting her surprise at Frederick's arrival in Bath and his mood swings as he stayed with them in Gay Street.

I don't understand. Alexa thought feverishly. How could Frederick have been here and in Bath at the same time?

There was only one answer. He couldn't. My God! Who have I been kissing these last few weeks?

Alexa was in a spin. Picking up a shawl, she went to the first floor and found Katy. "Katy, Mrs. Croft has asked me to purchase a coat for Captain Wentworth. I thought something that matched his eyes would be nice, but I cannot remember if they are green or gray."

Katy blushed deeply, showing her crush on Wentworth had continued unabated. "I believe his eyes are green, Miss. It's Miss Anne's eyes that are gray."

Alexa felt the breath leave her body. "Thank you, Katy. I will be out for a little while. If the Captain returns and I am not back -- please do not tell him of my errand."

"Certainly not, Miss. I think he would enjoy the surprise!" Alexa turned to go but was stopped again. "Miss, speaking of the Captain, Mr. Till, our stable manager, wondered why the Captain didn't bring his horse back to Kellynch?"

Because the scumbag probably doesn't even know how to ride, Alexa thought caustically. "I believe he took the post back here, Katy." It was enough of an answer for the girl.

Alexa set off for town, brushing away offers to take her there by chaise or buggy. She walked quickly, with determination. And in the pit of her stomach a new sensation began to burn...anger. Alexa was no stranger to temper tantrums, but this was different. This was a quiet, powerful emotion she had never felt before. It was a deep, slow building fury.

Town was in full mid-day bustle when she arrived. Alexa did her best to stay anonymous within the crowds of shoppers and local farmers. She searched the faces and figures around her, looking for a familiar person who stood head and shoulders above everyone else. She spotted him as he ducked into a pub. Alexa stomped her foot in pique. There was no way to follow him inside without attracting attention. She approached it casually and had to scuttle behind a hay cart when he suddenly came back out again. Again he glanced about him surreptitiously and turned to look behind him, into the darkened entrance of the pub. He cocked his head, gesturing to an alley behind the establishment and strode there without another word. Into the light stepped Mr. Mustache and Mr. Frumpy and they followed him into the alley.

Alexa's heart beat painfully as she crept around for a better view. She didn't dare approach close enough to hear what was being said. Wentworth, or whomever he really was, did most of the talking. He jabbed Mustache with his finger several times and pointed to the direction of Kellynch. There were a few words of protest from the other men, but it was clear that neither of them would sway or had any authority over the impostor Wentworth. Alexa had seen enough. She hired a farmer to take her home quickly.

Alexa was mindless of the scenery that passed her by as the cart bumped and jangled back toward Kellynch. She was too full of memories that had only now come clear. The sharp look he had given her that first night. Their strange dinner conversation and arguments. His ideas that she was inventing machinery in the attic. There were other habits that shifted into sharp focus. She recalled now how he had disliked the meal that had been Wentworth's favorite. How he seemed to know even less than she did about the habits of this era. How he refused to let her tell Sophy or anyone else that he was here. How he followed her around all day and how he no longer smoked his cigars after dinner.

"Are you all right, Miss?" The farmer asked diffidently. Alexa looked at him questioningly and he waved his hand at her face. As she reached up and touched her cheeks, she realized she was weeping.

Part 17 -- Deception

Posted on Sunday, 09-Aug-98

Alexa was dry-eyed and numbly stoic by the time the fake Wentworth returned to Kellynch. She stared stonily out the east window, watching for his return and mentally preparing herself to pretend that nothing was wrong.

She did not respond or even move when he came strolling through the house calling her name. Eventually he found her still standing by the window.

"There you are! I've been looking all over for you!" He called cheerfully. "Didn't you hear me calling?"

"I've told you before that I don't respond to someone screaming my name," she replied tersely. She saw his reflection frown and continued, forcing herself to speak gently. "But no, I was in my own little world, I suppose. I didn't hear you."

The frown melted away and he smiled, stepped close and pulled her back into his arms. Alexa could not help the stiffening of her body as he did so, nor the urge to weep at the emptiness of his embrace.

"I've missed you," he whispered in her ear.

Liar, her brain whispered back. "I've been here all day."

"I know. I'm afraid I snuck off to town."

"I know," she said, unconsciously mimicking him. "I saw you leave."

"Did you? Huh! Then you weren't resting like I told you to! Why are you so stiff?" He asked, stepping away and turning her around to face him.

"My shoulder hurts."

"That hooligan should have been hung." He said with a caress for her shoulder.

Alexa tried not to shudder, but every touch of his seemed dirty to her. She stared up at his face earnestly, trying to see what was familiar about it. But something had happened to her vision in the last few hours for all she saw before her was a stranger. Every feature she had dismissed as Frederick's was there but then again not. His eyes were definitely gray -- like Anne Elliot's were gray. He was not as broad or weather beaten as Frederick. There were no traces of hard labor on the soft, smooth skin of his face and hands. And while his eyes returned her gaze with warmth, she had only this morning seen them turn into steel. What kind of man would lure a woman into a trap by making her fall in love with him?

She was glad she had never told him how she felt. He would never know it now. And he certainly did not deserve it. But Alexa's ultimate shame was that she had fallen in live with him. For despite the striking resemblance, he did not for one moment act anything like Frederick Wentworth. Alexa had already called herself all kinds of a fool for being gullible. It didn't change anything.

"Why are you staring at me like this?" He asked. Alexa managed not to flinch when his hand touched her hair.

"If the cat's got eyes, he can look at the king."

His brows drew together in a confused grin, "What is that supposed to mean?"

She shrugged nonchalantly and stepped away from him. "It means that I look because I can. Why? Does it bother you?" Do you have something to hide?

"Not at all. I'm just used to seeing a different expression on your face."

"What expression?"

"Like you care about me...they way I do you." He smiled with all the charm in his arsenal.

Alexa tried to remain unmoved...but the warmth in it looked so sincere. In her head, she started a chant of self-protection. Liar. She thought every time he spoke. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. She looked away and began to walk out of the room. She waited a few beats before turning back to him. "Would you teach me how to ride?"

"Ride?"

"A horse. I want to learn how ride a horse."

"Oh," he hedged. "Why me?"

"Because you're an excellent horseman!" Alexa laughed at the color that scalded his face. "So will you teach me?"

"Maybe," he replied, not meeting her eyes. "If I can find a suitable horse for you."

Liar. She felt her lips twist into what should have been a smile, but there was too much bitterness in her to make it sincere. She began to walk out of the room again.

"Where are you going? Come back. Stay with me for a little longer."

She ignored the plaintive note in his voice as she replied without stopping her exodus. "I have to oversee dinner. I've asked for all your favorites to be prepared for tonight." A quick glance around her shoulder rewarded her with the sight of his blanching at the very thought. There was little satisfaction in the petty victory.

Dinner was an usually silent affair. Alexa was consumed by her own thoughts and did not willingly respond to any of his attempts at conversation. She watched him surreptitiously as he pushed the food around his plate.

"Is anything wrong?" She asked innocently. "You've hardly had a bite."

"I'm not very hungry." His words were belied by the loud rumble of his stomach.

"You don't like it. But I thought...you told me yourself that these were your favorites." Someone should give me an Oscar.

He looked alarmed at her seeming distress. "It is...they are...I just...I'm not in the mood for it."

"Mood? What do you mean 'in the mood?'"

He looked away, "It's just an expression." Then he began to force fork-fulls of food into his mouth, chewing with determination and swallowing with difficulty. Alexa wished she could force-feed his lies back to him the same way. She watched him finish everything on his plate in stony silence. Then she stood up and motioned to the butler. Immediately the man came forward and presented a cigar to the phony Wentworth. He looked somewhat disgusted and alarmed, especially when Alexa began to leave the room. He took the cigar gingerly, nearly choking as the butler efficiently lit it for him. Alexa watched him try to hold it correctly before turning away.

"Where are you going?" He wheezed. "You're always leaving the room."

Alexa turned to him with innocent eyes. "I'm going to wait in the parlor room."

"Why?"

"Because you always say how important it is for men to have their time apart from the women...to smoke their cigarettes and talk politics." She batted her lashes at him. "I'm trying to give you everything you want."

"I want you to stay here and talk to me." He gave up on the cigar but could not find anywhere to put it. He settled for resting it on the edge of the table, with the burning end hanging off the edge of the white cloth. Rid of the burden, he hurriedly crossed the room and held her by the arms. "Stay with me. I've miss you all day." He leaned forward to kiss her.

Alexa turned her face away and wrinkled her nose. He scowled at her response. "You smell like that cigar. Have a glass of Port to wash it down after you finish it. I will be waiting in the parlor." Alexa steeled herself to kiss his cheek and found herself having to swallow down a lump of misery at the feel of his immediate and ardent response. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeply. Alexa tried not to respond, but did, betraying herself to him all over again.

She pushed him away gently, raising a shaking hand to her lips. "Now sit and relax. I will see you in half an hour. Don't keep me waiting."

He acquiesced with reluctance and ill grace. She closed the doors behind her with an audible sigh and met the eyes of the butler who hovered outside. "Make sure he has enough Port and that he relaxes."

"Yes, Madam."

Alexa began to climb the staircase, "And inform Captain Wentworth that I am not feeling very well and have decided to retire for the evening. But do not tell him until he is ready to go to the parlor. I would hate to see him distressed."

The butler remained impassive to this strange instruction. "As you wish, Madam."

Alexa hurriedly undressed and slid under the sheets, blowing out the candle. She listened to the ticking of the clock in the mantelpiece, trying to assess the amount of time that passed. Somewhere after the half hour mark she heard his heavy tread outside her door. There was a quiet knock, which she did not reply, before the door creaked open.

"Alexa? Are you already asleep?"

Alexa made an exhibition of sitting up gingerly and squinting at the light that flooded into the room from the candles in the hall. "Frederick?"

He left the door slightly ajar so he could see his way to the bed. Then he sat on the edge facing her. Immediately his hand cupped her cheek and wound itself around her unpinned hair. "Why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well, my darling?"

"I didn't want to worry you," she lied.

"I was already worried! You've been acting so strange today." He continued to stroke her cheek. "You seem a little warm, but I don't think you have a fever."

"I just need to sleep."

"All right. I'll check on you in the morning." He said, bending down to kiss her lingeringly. He wrapped both his hands in her hair as he did so, sighing as the strands willingly separated between his fingers. "Get some rest. I love you, sweetheart."

Alexa nodded and lay back down, turning on her side so he would not see the tears that slid down onto her pillow.

Alexa lay in the dark for hours, listening to the clock tick and the house settle down for the night. And she tried to stop weeping for something she never truly had. Eventually enough time had passed for Alexa to feel comfortable that she would not be discovered. She rose and dressed herself, packing a very small satchel with a change of clothes, an extra pair of shoes, and some personal items she could no longer part with. She propped two letters on her dresser, one to Anne and one to the Crofts, apologizing for her disappearance and thanking them for their kindness and friendship. She made no explanation only telling them that it was time to leave.

She pulled on her heavy cloak and hid what money she had saved from the household expenses deep within its folds. Quietly creeping down the house, she made one last stop in the attic to gather her compositions and materials. Alexa sighed sadly as she took one last look around her makeshift office and, picking up the candle, prepared to leave the room.

The dim light of the candle threw eerie shadows over Wentworth's face as he blocked the doorway. Alexa gave an low shriek of surprise and backed away, nearly dropping the candle.

"You're up late for someone who isn't feeling well," he commented softly, his eyes flicking over her clothing. "But at least you're dressed warmly this time." He closed the door behind him and approached cautiously. Alexa stumbled back. "Give me this before you burn the house down," he said mildly, taking the candlestick out of her nerveless hand.

Alexa stared at him with mute fear. In the shadows, he seemed even more than a stranger...he seemed dangerous. He was looking at her without moving and a part of her brain suggested he was trying not to alarm her. Neither was he about to pretend any longer, Alexa noticed his modern clothing.

"You followed me into town today, didn't you?" She nodded, still silent. He sighed sadly. "I suppose I deserve your hostility. But don't be frightened of me. I'm not going to hurt you."

You already have. She thought unwillingly. She cleared her throat, trying for something close to her normal speaking voice. "You've come to take me back, haven't you?"

"Yes. It's time to stop running away, don't you think?" Alexa did not answer him. It did him credit that he did not prevaricate. He tried to approach again and huffed his consternation when she again avoided him. "Alexa, please. Sit down. We have to talk about this rationally."

There was no way for her to escape him now. She inched her way around him gingerly, taking a seat on the piano bench. He pulled a chair close to her and tried to take her hands. "Alexa, I have never lied to you."

"Oh? What is your name?"

His lips tightened. "Jonathan. My name is Jonathan Wentworth. As you've already seen, the family resemblance is striking...even after so many generations." Alexa raised her eyebrows caustically. "I know what you're thinking. And I never said I was Frederick Wentworth."

"A lie by omission is still a lie." Alexa replied stonily. "Was it only the resemblance that got you this job?"

He flushed, "That was a significant part. I work for the United Nations Military Intelligence."

"Now there's a contradiction in terms." Alexa snorted. "So, are you a Captain as well?"

"No, I am a civilian attaché."

"Isn't there some sort of penalty for impersonating an officer?" Alexa asked sarcastically. "Never mind, I forgot that you never actually CLAIMED to be the real Wentworth."

"I am a real Wentworth - just not Frederick." Jonathan leaned forward earnestly. "Alexa, I swear that everything I have said to you is true. I am here to help you. The military has a vested interest in keeping this technology away from the public. Your...escapade...has given us the ammunition we need to shut the Center down."

"I don't care about your politics."

"Alexa, you have to care. You're going to be right in the middle of it."

"Caught in the crossfire, you mean."

Again his lips tightened. "I am going to shield you as best I can. I am authorized to offer you protection as long as you cooperate."

Suddenly it was all too much for Alexa. She bent forward and pillowed her head in her hands miserably. "How much trouble am I in?"

"The Center wants to prosecute you under the fullest extent of the law."

"And they sent those goons, Mustache and Frumpy, to get me?" Alexa sighed. "How did they even know where to start looking?"

"Each craft is equipped with a black box recorder. Even if the craft crashes, as yours did, the black box is equipped to go back to its point of origin." Jonathan smiled. "It was a good measure for rescues, but not chases. After they arrived and didn't find you at the crash site, the Center was completely unprepared. They had no idea where to even start looking for you."

"And I suppose that is where you came in."

"Not immediately. The Center has been adamant about our not becoming involved. They know, rightly, that if we found you first, we'd have leverage to shut them down." Jonathan hesitated. "We had another way of knowing where you were. Anne Wentworth - Anne Elliot to you - kept a detailed diary. It's the only thing of my family's that has survived to our time." He tried to charm her with a grin. "She wrote about you a great deal."

"She'd be shocked if she knew what you've used it for. She'd be shocked at the idea of anyone reading her most private thoughts."

"Probably," he agreed quietly.

"I still don't understand. If the only the military has access to this diary, how did the Center goons find me the first time?"

"We told them. It was a gesture of goodwill, you might say." Alexa started in surprise as he continued. "Do you remember giving Anne Elliot a hair comb? Well, she knew where you got it from that day."

Of course, Alexa chastised herself. Anne grew up here. Naturally she would know all the merchants. "If you wanted to catch me first, why tell them at all?"

Again he grinned, even laughed a little. "We already knew you would get away."

"And then I wrote to Anne that I was staying on alone in Kellynch." He nodded. She sighed sadly. "I'm going to miss them."

"I wish I could have met her and Frederick. They sound like fascinating people." He watched her look away in misery. "I think it's best if we go back tonight."

"Stop talking as if I have a choice."

"You do have a choice," he whispered. "If you disappeared now and didn't keep in touch with Anne Elliot, no one would be able to find you."

She stared at him. "This is a trick. You're trying to trap me into something."

He shook his head. "No tricks or traps. Just one condition. Take me with you." The astonishment ripped through her. "Why does that surprise you? I love you. I want to be with you."

"That is a lie. And a cruel one."

"It's true. I have never lied to you." His eyes glanced up at her. "You know, you've been a family mystery for generations. No one knew who this mysterious Alexa Matthews was who drifted in and out of Wentworth life. I admit that it fascinated me to no end. I must have read the diary hundreds of times. And then you released your first album. Most of us believed it was just a coincidence. Until the Center announced its new invention and named you as a performer in the opening ceremonies."

"Why are you telling me all of this? You've won. I'm your captive. Enough already." Childishly, she covered her ears with her hands.

Jonathan knelt in front of her, gently prying her hands away. "Listen to me, Alexa. I've watched every move you've made since you first started performing. I've read Anne's account of you over and over again just to get a glimpse of who you are. There was no question about my going on this mission. But until I met you, it was all somewhat clinical. I've been obsessed with you since my childhood."

"Do you even realize how weird that sounds? How frightening?" She asked him.

He gripped her hands firmly, but not painfully. "I didn't come here to fall in love with you. But I did. I do."

The chant started in her head again. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. She tried to pull her hands out of his. "Don't say that."

"I will say it. I have to say it. Because I think you love me too."

Alexa looked him right in the eyes and lied, "No, I don't."

His eyes narrowed with a hint of distress in them. "Don't try to make me believe that you would be intimate with just any man, Alexa. I know you better."

"I didn't say that. I only meant that I fell in love with Frederick Wentworth - not you." She saw the verbal bullet hit home. His face contorted with pain for a moment and he released her and moved away. She watched him pace in front of her, alternately looking at her and looking at his hands.

"That isn't true. I know it's not true." He said vehemently. "Why are you lying to me?"

Alexa could no longer look at him, "I'm not the one who's been lying. I have nothing to gain from this."

She was surprised at how distressed he actually was. He almost looked sincere. But that wasn't possible, she was sure it wasn't possible. She jumped when he suddenly stopped pacing in front of her.

"The offer is rescinded. There is no way in hell I am letting you stay here if you're in love with HIM." He fairly spat out the words.

"Be polite," she mocked. "That's your ancestor you're referring to."

"That's right. And I have a vested interest in being born." He took her arm and forced her to her feet. "Come on. We're going home." Alexa calmly took her satchel, filled to the brim with compositions, and followed him.

He kept a painful grip on her as he strode through the glade. Alexa tripped over her dress several times, struggling to keep up with his frantic pace. They came to a heavily shrubbed area, filled with hedgerows and trees. He pushed through some brush carelessly, some of which scraped at Alexa as they swung back into place. She was almost relieved when a Center craft emerged from the foliage.

Jonathan opened the door and showed her in. "Sit down there," he said gruffly, pointing to the passenger seat. Alexa did not argue, merely rubbing the wrist he had brutally gripped and gingerly touching the scrapes left on her face by the shrubbery. Being in the craft unnerved her, frightened her. She bit down on her lip hard, struggling to put on a seat belt that her blurred eyes could no longer see. Jonathan grunted impatiently and pushed her hands aside to buckle the belt for her. Alexa kept her head bent as he did so, ashamed of her terrified tears. But he was still hovered over her long after he was done with the belt.

"Alexa?"

She looked up at the plaintive note in his voice. The anger was gone from his face, replaced by a concern and regret that deepened when he saw her tears. Again he hunched down beside her, gently caressing her face with his hand.

"What's going to happen to me?" She whispered.

He wrapped his arms around her suddenly as she began to sob. He held her close, stroking her hair and murmuring endearments. He held her until she grew quiet and uncharacteristically solemn. "Don't be afraid. Look at me." He commanded. "I promise, I am not going to let anyone hurt you. I know you have no reason to trust me. But please believe me...just this once. I will do everything in my power to protect you. I won't let anyone touch you."

"I lied to you," she whispered. "When I said I was in love with Frederick...I lied." He inhaled sharply and waited, but Alexa only looked away, still unable to tell him how she felt.

Apparently it was enough for him. "Thank you," he whispered back. Then taking his seat, he skillfully guided them home. Alexa could not help comparing this painless passage with the roller coaster ride that had started it all. In a way, it was almost a relief that this was all over. The trip took mere minutes and happened without a bump or scratch on either of them. As Jonathan allowed the protective screen to dissolve from the front Plexi-glass shield, Alexa got her first glimpse of the crowd of serious people who surrounded the landing pad. Several were dressed in uniforms, others were not, but they were all heading straight for them.

Jonathan grabbed her hand tightly and whispered, "Just lean on me. I won't let anything happen to you." He leaned down and kissed her urgently. She closed her eyes and let him, only too glad to be facing this with him beside her. With an arm around her, he opened the hatch door and they stepped out into the tarmac.

Immediately, lights flashed left and right. Alexa threw her hand up in front of her face so she would not be blinded. There were reporters everywhere, calling her name, asking her unintelligible questions. She pressed close to Jonathan and stayed silent. The uniformed men opened a path in the crowd and briskly escorted them into a barricaded area. Alexa's head was spinning from the unrelenting commotion and clamor for her attention.

At the end of the human tunnel, Alexa saw Mr. Mustache standing smugly next to a grim, uniformed man. She felt Jonathan's fingers press into the flesh of her arms and vaguely registered his alarm. Must be a real big-wig, Alexa thought.

"Well Wentworth, I didn't give you enough credit. You said you would seduce her back to the present if all else failed, and you did!" Mustache laughed. "Wish my assignments were this tough!"

Alexa felt her muscles freeze all over her body, the blood draining completely from her face. She twisted in Jonathan's painful grasp to look into his face. There was an expression of horror on it as he stared at the other man -- and something else. Guilt.

Mustache walked the distance between them and grabbed her arm, dragging her away forward. Jonathan protested but was silenced by the hand raised by the high ranking military man.

"We've come to an agreement with the Center, Wentworth." He said. "We get restricted public access to the technology. They get her. It's all been arranged."

"Tell him he's wrong," Alexa said desperately. "Tell him I'll cooperate."

"He can't," Mustache grinned. "You've been signed, sealed and delivered. And there's not a damn think your boyfriend can do about it."

Alexa kept staring at Jonathan as Mustache and his staff dragged her off. Jonathan's eyes flickered over her pale features but could not hold her gaze. So it was true after all. Despite all his protests to the contrary, he was a liar.

Part 18 -- Remorse

Posted on Sunday, 09-Aug-98

Alexa spent the next two days sequestered and relentlessly questioned. She was given a small room, bare of anything except a light, a bed and her small satchel of possessions. The satchel had been searched, it's contents in obvious disarray. But it was intact, nothing of hers had been taken.

The questions rotated round and round, couched in different terms but asking the same thing. Why did she do it? Alexa gave them the same answer. She tried to make them understand her desperation to be heard and the fact that the theft was rather unplanned. But after so many repetitions of her account, it sounded thin to her own ears. In short, Alexa had given up.

In this sea of hostile guardians, Alexa struck a strange friendship with her guard, Ivy. Ivy was a lean, tired looking woman that remained unsurprised by anything. Yet, to Alexa's relief, behind her leathery exterior, Ivy was a kind woman. And she had taken on Alexa as a personal project.

Alexa was sitting cross-legged on the bed, reading her compositions and trying to hear their music in her head. She heard the lock turn and looked up to see Ivy coming in. The guard put a tin on the bed.

"I brought you some cookies," she said. "Baked them myself. They're a little burned around the edges, but you strike me as having been a long ways from a cookie."

Alexa smiled. "Thanks. It has been a while since I had one." She started to open the tin.

"Save it for later," Ivy cautioned. "Right now you have to come with me."

Alexa felt herself pale, "Another round of questions."

"Not this time. You have a visitor." Ivy looked at her critically. "Need to freshen up?"

"What for?" Alexa looked down at her spare dress and snorted. "I've got no one to impress." What had been daringly low cut for the 17th century was prudish today. Alexa thought she could get away with just wearing her shift, but decided against it. She had gratefully forsaken the corset and the hairstyles that pulled her hair back so tightly that her eyebrows began migrating to her nape. The dress flowed around her gracefully as did her hair. But two days of intense questioning had worn her out. She felt like a hag.

"Suit yourself."

Ivy led her to a different wing from where the questioning usually happened. Alexa sullenly stepped into the room, her mouth dropping open in surprise as Jonathan Wentworth hurriedly stood up off his chair. She heard the door click and lock behind her, but she didn't dare come any further into the room.

Jonathan felt no such restraints. He ran forward and pulled her into his arms. Her own were pinned to her sides by his embrace, preventing her from returning the embrace or spurning it. Alexa did not know which option suited her more. She longed to return it and hated the intimacy with the same breath. His face was buried against her cheek, lips brushing back and forth gently, even as Alexa determinedly turned her face away.

"Alexa? Are you all right? They wouldn't let me see you. Wouldn't even tell me where you were!"

He set her back down on her feet and, taking her hand, brought her to an overstuffed loveseat. She sat only on its edge, not trusting its comforts, and clasped her hands together tightly as he picked up a small case and came to sit beside her. He set the case at her feet.

"I've brought you some things you might need." He said softly. "Clothes and something to read, some composition paper and pens..."

Alexa stared at everything except him, unable to tell him how there was no music left in her.

"Alexa," Her name was a plea on his lips. She could almost admire his persistence. "Talk to me. Say anything at all."

"Why are you here?" The sound of her own voice was foreign.

He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. It was a sweet, gentle gesture from so large a man. "What do you mean?"

"Why are you bothering?" She whispered gruffly. "Your job is done. Mission accomplished. Congratulations, well done. Or maybe they think I'll give you the answers they seem to want."

He blanched at her words, the soft strokes of his hand stilling. "I'm not here for them. I'm here for you. For me."

Alexa nodded bitterly as if she understood. "Take a good look. Because you'll never see me again."

He scowled at her, misunderstanding. "Don't talk like that! I've already gotten things started, you'll be out of here before long. Another day at most." He took her hands in his. "I know it's awful here, but I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"No more promises. I can't take another promise." Alexa pulled her hands away and stood, walking to the locked door. With her back still to him, she just managed, "Thank you for your visit. But please don't repeat it again."

"You don't mean that!"

"Stop telling me what I mean and what I don't mean!" She flared. He flinched. "Just do what I ask for once. There isn't any need to pretend anymore."

"I am not pretending." She was impressed by his acting ability, the way his voice wobbled just a little and the expression of perfectly blended incredulity and pain. Alexa turned away before he managed to convince her, banging the palm of her hand on the door to signal her readiness to leave. He rushed up behind her, nearly pinning her against the door, nearly shouting his protests. She felt his breath against her ear as he tried to look at her averted face. She shut her eyes and heart and mind against the way he said her name, over and over, as he tried to make her believe.

Unable to bear the words, or the touch of his arms around her waist, or the way her body fit against his as he pulled her backward in a trembling, desperate embrace, Alexa began banging on the door harder. "IVY!" She called, hating the sob that sounded in her voice. "GET ME OUT OF HERE!"

They both stumbled back as the door swung inwards. Jonathan did not release her, but the sudden movement had loosened his grip. She pushed his arms away violently and sprinted for the door. She made her way back to her prison and curled up on the bed in misery. She heard the door open and Ivy's familiar tread.

"You visitor said to give this to you. I've looked through it but I don't see anything that shouldn't be there." Alexa heard the case set beside the bed, still staring sightlessly at the wall. "If it makes you feel any better, he's just as upset as you are."

It didn't.

Inside the case was another change of clothes, modern ones. Jonathan had taken care to add soap and towels and other personal amenities. Alexa blushed as she imagined him selecting these silky undergarments for her. There was one novel by a popular author. And a second volume, just as long but without the professional, glossy cover. Alexa picked it up curiously. She opened the cover and traced a finger over Jonathan's unfamiliar scrawl.

I thought you might want to see why I've loved you for so long. Yours, Jonathan.

This isn't fair, Alexa thought. You knew me long before we ever met. Until three days ago, I thought you were another man.

It was Anne Elliot -- no Anne Wentworth's diary. A copy of it anyway. Still, it was a reproduction of her distinctive script, a perfect match with all those letters Alexa had taken as mementos. Just holding it shook Alexa to the core. She realized with a deep pang of loneliness that the only people who had managed to replace her lost family were dead...and had been for hundreds of years. With a deeper grief than she had supposed herself to feel, Alexa buried the diary deep into the case, unable to read her friend's most intimate thoughts.

Alexa had another visitor that day. This one insisted on coming directly to her room, imperious and demanding as usual. Alexa looked up as Sammi, her agent walked in. Tightly outfitted in a lime green jumpsuit, Sammi looked like a bangled and bejeweled movie star. Except for one thing.

"My God, Sammi," Alexa said as she looked at the other woman. "I can see your scalp! Why did you do that to yourself?"

Sammi grinned and rubbed the blond fuzz on her head. "I had an unfortunate chewing gum accident with my brother's little monster. I swear that witch of a wife he has put the kid up to it." She rubbed her head a little more. "Now I kinda like it."

Alexa's lips twisted into an unwilling smile. "It suits you. Goes with your attitude."

"That attitude just got you a new contract, ducky." Sammi looked about the room in disdain. "This place is a dump." Sammi pushed at a window. "Can't even get decent air in here."

"I don't think they trust me with an open window."

"Not after that stunt you pulled. Do they think you're going to crawl out the window?" Sammi looked her up and down critically. "Though you look like you could. You've finally lost those last ten pounds like I've been nagging you to for years. You look almost as good as me."

Alexa rolled her eyes as Sammi crossed her bare arms. "You know what I a mechanical moron I am. Trust me to crash land before the invention of cars. I had to walk everywhere."

Sammi laughed at her. "Didn't they even have horses?"

"Have you ever smelled a horse? Well, I have...and it's worse than you think."

"Does that mean you're happy to be back? It must have been lonely over there." Alexa shrugged, unable to express her sadness over the loss of her friends. "Well, Ducky, you're back now and I am going to keep you busier than you ever were. Your caper made worldwide headlines. Your albums are now harder to buy than gold and everyone wants them. Even that awful album you recorded four years ago -- POOF! Gone from the shelves! You, my dear truant, are a star."

"It'll fade when the novelty wears off."

"Not according to Rolling Stone. You know their word is law in the industry. And their critic got canned for never even knowing about you. The new guy thinks you walk on water...singing the whole way."

Alexa couldn't believe her ears. "That's amazing."

"Well, ducks, that's what happens when you pull the publicity stunt of all time." Sammi wagged a finger at her. "Next time let me in on it. But here's the best news. We're gonna be making a new album."

"What? Jailhouse Rock? I think Elvis already did that one."

"Don't make fun of the king. People still think they've seen him at the supermarket." Sammi snorted. "You'll be outta here tomorrow. That boyfriend of yours has lined up a lawyer and been raising hell to get you out."

"He's not my boyfriend," Alexa denied. "He's a bloody liar. I don't want his help. It's probably a trick."

"Or guilt," Sammi nodded. "He did get you into this mess." Alexa was inexplicably sad at Sammi's easy acceptance of Jonathan's motives. "In any case, we're springing you loose tomorrow. And I've got us a great place on the hill. Built in recording studio and everything."

"I can't afford that."

"Haven't you been listening? You and I produced every record you've ever release. Every record you've release is sold out. You and I have made a lot of money. I've even invested some of it."

"What are you doing with my money?"

"Don't get suspicious on me, ducky. I stuck with you when no one was listening to you play. I've just started us a partnership -- our own record label. And when we get your new album out...we'll be officially in business. I've already begun talking to some other artists I manage." Sammi rambled on dreamily.

"Sammi, I have new material. I've been writing."

A knock on the door broke their mutual reveries and Ivy stepped in. "Time's up." Sammi threw her hands up and began walking out the door.

"Wait!" Alexa called. "Don't you want to see any of it?"

"Ducks, you could bang tin cans together and the industry will be calling it alternative rock." Sammi snorted cynically. Then her tone softened to a near whisper. "But if it's half as good as I know you can be, you'll be the new queen of rock and roll."

Alexa smiled at her partner's sense of loyalty. "It's even better than that."

"Excellent," Sammi completed the walk to the doorway. "Don't gain any weight," she said by way of good-bye.

The questioning began very early the next day. Alexa was awakened and taken to the interrogation room before sunrise. She shifted tiredly in her seat, sick of the whole process and recognizing their renewed efforts as desperation. Her release must be imminent. She was there an hour before the door was forced open. Jonathan stood there, scowling at Mr. Mustache and his fellow interrogators. Another man followed behind him, placing a small information disk on the table.

"This is a order to cease and desist. The Center is not a judicial body and your incarceration of Miss Matthews is illegal and reprehensible," The man said calmly. He stretched a hand down to Alexa who took his assistance gratefully.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Mustache growled, advancing threateningly. "You're on private property." Jonathan moved quickly. He grabbed Mustache by the collar and pinned him against a wall. Jonathan's superior height and breadth made it an easy task. Alexa held her breath. The man standing beside her only smiled. "I am Benjamin Wentworth, Esquire. I represent Miss Matthew's interests. Let him go, Jon. He's not worth it."

Jonathan dropped the man and stepped back. The elder Wentworth put a hand on Alexa's back and stretched an arm, indicating for her to walk ahead of him. She did so, shakily, and heard him say, "Consider yourselves served, Gentlemen."

Sammi was standing outside the door, looking impressed despite her usual poker face. "Hi Ducky. That was pretty good in there, wasn't it."

Alexa looked over her shoulder at the two men and found them regarding her with similar intensity. She could see the family resemblance between them, but only slightly. From the graying of his temples, Alexa guessed that Benjamin was older.

"Thank you." She whispered.

"We came as soon we heard they'd pulled you in for one last session." Jonathan said quickly.

"How did you know?"

"We had a tip," Sammi replied with a sly glance to where Ivy was standing guard down the hall. "Don't worry," she whispered in Alexa's ear. "I've offered her a job with us."

"Alexa?" She felt Jonathan's light touch on her arm. She jumped as if burned. His lips tightened briefly at her reaction. "I'd like to introduce my brother, Benjamin. He's in charge of your case." Alexa smiled weakly at the deceptively mild mannered man. He had the same piercing stare as his younger sibling, except his looks held curiosity and some disapproval, whereas Jonathan's seemed filled with longing.

"Miss Matthews, we have an uphill battle ahead of us. Are you prepared?" Benjamin said. Alexa could only shrug non-commitally. "Well, I supposed that is an honest answer. Don't fret, by the time we get to court -- you will be."

"Is this everything?" Jonathan asked and picked up the case and satchel at Sammi's feet. "Let's go."

The estrangement between Jonathan and Alexa was palpable. She tried to keep her eyes averted but they kept straying toward his form as he drove. She surreptitiously studied the way his dark hair curled over his collar and how he tended to roll his left shoulder to relieve the tension. And several times, she met his eyes in the rear view mirror. Always they would look away.

Sammi was giving them directions and soon they pulled into a large house in an exclusive neighborhood. "This is it, Ducky! It's grand, isn't it? I've moved a lot of your things from your apartment. You wouldn't believe how many people are camped out at that ratty apartment -- like it was a shrine."

Shut up, Sammi! Alexa thought as she watched the humor arch Benjamin's brow. Sammi's constant, greedy gushing was starting to get on her nerves. Jonathan's audible sighs only confirmed the opinions of her companions.

Alexa was somewhat intimidated by the size of the mansion they were in. Sammi was already imperiously commanding staff. Her voice was echoing as she yelled at Alexa to follow her into the recording studio in the back of the house.

"I will be back tomorrow, Miss Matthews. We can begin then. Get some rest." She shook Benjamin's hand and watched him exit the door. Then she was left alone with Jonathan.

They stared at each other uncomfortably for a moment. It seemed churlish to remain cold towards him -- especially after all he had done for her. But still she waited for the other shoe to drop, and for him to betray her again.

"Thank you," she finally whispered. She stretched out a hand in farewell, in a handshake. He took the hand slowly, turning it palm up, and pressing a long warm kiss on it. Then looking up at her, he took her smaller hand in both of his and pressed it against his chest. "Please don't do this." She whispered, brokenly. "I'm in over my head. I can't take on anything else."

He looked as distressed as she felt. "You don't have to take anything on alone. Lean on me. Did you read the diary?"

"No." At his questioning look, she added. "There wasn't any point." She looked away, ashamed that she couldn't tell him the real reason behind her avoidance of the diary. He tightened his hold on her hand.

"Alexa, if you could just read it."

"I can't."

"Don't you even want to understand me? Have you made up your mind so strongly against me that you won't even listen to anything I have to say? Any proof of why I know you and that I love you."

"You keep saying you know me, Jonathan," she whispered earnestly. "But you don't. You know of me. You know what someone else thinks...thought...of me."

"And what of all those weeks we spent together? Don't they count for anything? I may have loved an image of you before that...but after..."

Alexa shook her head, "All those weeks we spent together...I thought you were someone else."

He looked sorrowful. "In other words, the only Jonathan Wentworth you know is the one who forced you into this chaos." Alexa did not respond, did not know what to say, in fact. He dropped her hand and stepped backwards toward the door. "You're wrong you know. All those weeks...that man you got to know...that was always me."

Part Nineteen -- The Price of Notoriety

Posted on Tuesday, 18-Aug-98

Alexa began a punishing routine the next day. She started the day with long sessions about the coming court case, and The Center's public announcement that they were pressing criminal charges. The whole thing made Alexa feel sick and more alone than ever before. After Benjamin left for the day, Alexa would go into the recording studio to play her compositions and write arrangements for as many other instruments as she could think of. Sammi was beside herself with joy, for the music was the best of Alexa's career to date.

Benjamin Wentworth was as punctual as he was thorough. There were times during her frequent meetings with him that the questions were just as difficult as those posed at The Center. They often became frustrated with each other.

"You don't like me much, do you?"

He frowned at the question. Sometimes, Alexa saw a lot of Jonathan in his brother although they didn't look very much alike. Ben was fairer than Jonathan and a slighter build. But there were movements and expressions between them that stopped Alexa cold. "I'm not required to like you."

"I wasn't saying it was a requirement. But I wonder why you took this case altogether."

"I didn't have much of a choice. Your name is such a fixture in my family, it would have been odd not to defend you." He rustled his papers meaningfully. "Can we get back to this?"

"Why don't you just tell me what you want me to say, Ben."

"There aren't any right answers to these questions. There is just a better answer and a worse answer. You've been giving me horrible answers."

"I'm honored. I get to play in a whole new level."

"Cut it out, Alexa. This isn't a game. The Center wants to put you away for a long, long time. They have a great shot at it."

"I know this isn't a game!" Alexa retorted. "This is my life. I know what I did was wrong but I was desperate."

Ben took off his glasses, which she found charmingly old fashioned of him to wear, and looked at her sharply. "Desperate? That's a strange word to use."

"Is it?"

"Well, yes. You have fame and fortune and everyone wants you. What's to be desperate about?"

Alexa shook her head sadly. "I don't want fame and fortune." She heard him snort. "I don't! Don't misunderstand, I'm not turning it away either, but all I wanted was to be heard." Ben leaned back on his chair and crossed his arms. Alexa sensed that he was listening intently. "You have no idea what it's like. It's not about the music anymore. It's about what you look like and who you're sleeping with. Even so-called artists aren't too particular about the sounds they make. And people are so used to hearing trash that they don't expect more.

"I don't want you to get the wrong idea," she continued as he remained silently listening. "I'm not trying to say I'm the best there is. But just like you know you're a good lawyer, I know I'm a good musician. You deserve the rewards of winning your cases because you work hard and are sincere in what you do. I wanted the same thing. Except nothing was on my merits. It was one proposition after another. 'Go ahead and croak on-stage...but you'll never get there till you sleep with me.' I can't tell you how many times I heard that." She watched Ben's eyes widen and his stare soften. "Ben, I was starting to give up...to lose hope. I was starting to hate the things that I had dreamed of since I was a child. What was I to do if I didn't play music? Who was I going to be? It was as close to dying as I've ever been. So I ran away somewhere where there was a chance to be heard. Even if it was just once."

Ben seemed almost shaken by her admission. Alexa sat trembling on her own chair, exhausted by the tirade. She couldn't even look at him, for fear of having been left vulnerable.

"Weren't you worried about leaving your friends behind?"

Alexa looked bitter. "I don't think I really had any. Until I met Anne and Sophy, everyone seemed to want something from me. Even Sammi, whom I trust explicitly, she has something to gain from our relationship. I have something to gain from her as well. So it's a big business deal."

"Family?"

She thought about her father and his second wife and their children, "No one who hasn't been absent for long enough. So you see...there was no one to miss me." She could see his mind working on ways to incorporate this pathetic description of her life into her defense. Let her go, Judge. She's too pathetic to incarcerate. And she had had enough for one day. "Ben, I'm exhausted. Can we wrap up for today?"

He snapped out of his reverie. "Sure, sure. You've given me a lot to think about." He began gathering his papers. Alexa stood up to leave. "Alexa?" She turned to see Ben looking at her compassionately. "I didn't like you at first. I thought what you did was stupid and irresponsible. And I resented like hell that I was expected to defend you." Alexa stared at him directly, undaunted by his statement. "But that changed with getting to know you. I am trying to understand why you did what you did. I don't think I'd have made the same choices. But I can understand why you needed to." He seemed almost embarrassed for a moment. He took an envelop from his briefcase and slid it across the desk toward her. Alexa inhaled sharply, recognizing Jonathan's handwriting on the cover. "I'm not going to tell you what you should do or not do. I was only asked to deliver this." Alexa stared at the note like it was a living thing. Ben finished packing his things and began to leave. "Alexa?" She looked at him again. "Now I know why my brother is crazy about you."

Alexa wandered about the rest of the day in a daze, unable to let go the letter and unable to read it. She had gotten as far as breaking the seal. But by the end of day, when she sat on her bed, she still hadn't read it. With a sigh she slipped it between the pages of Anne Wentworth's diary, another gift from Jonathan she couldn't accept.

The days began to blend into the same routine as weeks began to pass. Every morning, Alexa and Ben would hash out the details of their looming court appearance. Ben had managed to deflect a criminal charge against Alexa, using his governmental and military contacts to pressure the Center away from the criminal justice system. Alexa willingly agreed to several public service announcements aimed at preventing others from trying the same stunt. And the government couldn't have been more thrilled at the curtailment of the public's access to the technology, so it was willing to be flexible. However, these changes meant the Center wasn't going to make the money they had projected. There was a profound enmity in the Center against Alexa and try as he might, Ben could not prevent the civil case from being built. If the Center won, it would be a lucrative deal for them. And they were determined to drain Alexa's resources in order to recoup their losses.

The development worried Sammi and Alexa, though for different reasons. Sammi worried about her business partnership with Alexa, knowing that it would inevitably suffer if a judge ruled in favor of the Center. Alexa worried how she would ever regain her personal credibility.

Since the delivery of the letter, Ben developed a new habit. At the end of every session he asked, "Any messages?" And Alexa would always frown in confusion and reply, "no."

One day she followed Ben out to the front doors, chasing him because she forgot some piece of information he needed. She was cursing the size of the house at that point and tried to follow the sound of his footsteps. She turned the corner and bumped right into Ivy, who was now part of Alexa and Sammi's staff.

"Oh, hi," Alexa said quickly. "Have you seen Ben?" Just then, she heard his voice echoing from the living room. She hurried there with a wave to Ivy but stopped short when another voice replied. Jonathan. She stepped up to the side door, where they couldn't see her, and peeked.

Jonathan gave the impression of having just stood up, a newspaper still dangling from one hand. Alexa realized how much she had missed him and drank in the sight of him. Jonathan seemed anxious as he asked his brother, "Any messages?" His face fell when Ben only shook his head. "Maybe tomorrow." Jonathan replied softly. Ben only patted his shoulder as the two men left. Alexa sighed sadly. And turned at the touch on her shoulder. It was Ivy.

"He comes here everyday, you know." Ivy said. "Just sits and waits until Ben comes out and asks, 'Any messages?' Just the way you heard. I asked him once if he wanted me to call you. And he only said you probably never wanted to see him again." Ivy shuffled a little, trying to modulate her tone so it didn't scold. "I know he hurt you. But he's really trying to make it right. I've heard you talk about having had no one to miss you when you left. Well you're back now. And HE misses you. Even sitting in your home, he misses you."

Alexa spent the rest of the day locked in the studio. She dismissed the other musicians for the day, exciting Sammi's wrath that the album wouldn't be recorded quickly enough. But Alexa held the upper hand now and she used it. All she wanted was time to think.

Okay, so maybe he said some smart ass things before he came to get me. He didn't know me then. I can't blame him for thinking I was a world class idiot. I am. Only a world class idiot would have done what I did. Alexa mused. She thought about Frederick Wentworth and their clashes. Then she remember what Jonathan was like when he first arrived in Kellynch. How his suspicions turned into trust and how she had found someone she could talk to about anything. There was no denying the differences between the two men. Neither was there any doubt that Alexa had fallen in love with Jonathan and not Frederick. The thought shocked her. I still love him! But how can I love him when I barely trust him? And after all he's done for me, why can't I trust him?

She took Jonathan's letter and began to read.

It seems the destiny of Wentworth men to write letters to the women they love. And I do love you, Alexa, more than you probably realize. I thought about what you said, about how I really don't know you, and in a way you're right. What frightens me is that I will never get to know you. Never have the chance to talk to you the way we used to after dinner at Kellynch. I have dreams about that time, you know. And I wake up feeling you next to me, as if we were still sitting on that overstuffed couch. And then I remember that you are never going to let me touch you again.

I don't know why I'm writing. I just want a chance to say something to you. To tell you that I am still here if you need me or want me. I guess I'm asking for another chance, for friendship if nothing else. I don't want to lose you all together. Just send me a message. Through Ben if you aren't ready to speak to me. Please, just don't cast me off completely. Still Yours, Jonathan

The words pained Alexa. And for the first time in her life, she was ashamed of herself.

The next day, she could barely look at Ben, could barely pay attention for fear that he would see her confusion, her vulnerability. Ben was impatient with her, resorting to treating her like a child as she squirmed and thought of Jonathan all morning. Finally, he decided to leave, nearly barking the question, "So? Any messages today?"

"Yes," Alexa replied softly. She saw his head jerk up in surprise. "Tell him...just tell him I say 'Hello'." Ben's eyebrows rose a fraction and he left with a slight smile on his face. Alexa waited a few minutes then followed furtively. She watched Jonathan spring to his feet as Ben walked into the room. There was a half hopeful, half anxious expression on his face.

"She says 'hello'," Ben said with a smile.

A wondering grin appeared on Jonathan's face as Ben began to walk out the door. A shudder seemed to pass through him and Alexa heard him say to himself, "Thank God!" She smiled slightly as he hurried after his brother. "BEN! Wait! Is that all she said? HOW did she say it?"

The next few days saw short, meaningless messages passed back and forth through Ben, who delivered them grudgingly and with a roll of his eyes. But he did them willingly, for delivering the message from Jonathan seemed to help Alexa concentrate on the business at hand. The day before the case began, Ben reached across the table to pat Alexa's cheek. "You're ready for tomorrow. I know you are. Just be firm and don't be ashamed." Alexa only smiled weakly at him, hiding her nervously twisting hands beneath the table.

Ivy, Sammi and Jonathan were also in the room, since they were providing character witness testimonials. Jonathan was under pressure to do well, for his unique position as the man who brought Alexa back would be severely questioned. As they listened to Ben explain and describe what to expect, Alexa realized that Jonathan was moving his chair very close to hers.

Alexa was terrified and unable to pretend otherwise. She felt as if her entire life was balanced on the events of the next few weeks. She remained silent for most of the session, staring at her hands as they trembled. A large hand reached over, under the table, and covered hers soothingly. Jonathan was looking at her with concern. She turned her hand over and twined her fingers with his, finding comfort in this simple touch. She held him tightly, as if he were a lifeline, and covered their joined hands with her free one, absently stroking his knuckles as they shown white with the strength of his grip. He sighed as she did so, sounding almost happy.

Alexa sighed as Ben finished for the day, knowing she had to force herself to relax before tomorrow. She let go of Jonathan's hand reluctantly, a little guilty at the marks her nails had left on his skin. She apologized softly and he only smiled. She watched Ben and Jonathan walk out the door and turned toward the terrace for some solitude.

Sammi had hired a gardener to take care of the place and Alexa was happy for it. The terrace was a private stretch of green at the back of the house, with lattices and trellises overhung with ivy bearing purple, yellow and red flowers. Alexa had found herself relishing a small spot on the corner, within a small gazebo, that she felt was all her own. For all the functionality and splendor of this house Sammi had acquired for them, it didn't feel like a home.

"Alexa?" She turned at the sound of her name, seeing Jonathan on the path just below the steps of the gazebo. "I'll leave if you want me to...but I thought you might not want to be alone."

Alexa stared at him mutely for a moment, seeing his desire to stay and uncomfortable with her matching desire. She was unused to needing another person and unsure how to ask him for what she needed. The hopeful expression on his face died at her hesitation and he began to turn away. "Wait!" She called. "Please stay."

He did, coming slowly into the gazebo with her, his big body taking up so much more space than her more slight form. If it were anyone else, Alexa might have felt intimidated. But it was Jonathan, whom she loved, even if she couldn't yet tell him so. He stretched his hand forward and she took it, sliding her palm over his gently.

"I'll try not to claw you this time," she said softly, her humor still rising to the occasion. He laughed as softly, touching her hands with his as if she were about to disappear.

"Don't be frightened, Alexa. You aren't going in alone. Ben and I will be there, as will Ivy and Sammi. We love you, all of us, and we'll take care of you."

"I'm not used to being taken care of." Alexa admitted. "I don't know how to let it happen." Jonathan only looked at her with his heart in his eyes. She couldn't hold the glance. "Don't look at me like that."

"I'm sorry. I'm trying not to rush things."

"I know. It's not you, it's me. I've been on my own for a long time, Jonathan. I don't know any other way to be but independent. I wish I could tell you that would change, but I can't." Alexa sighed.

"I'm not asking you to change." He replied. "I'm not your jailer, Alexa. All I want is to be a part of your life in any way."

"No matter how small?" She asked. He nodded, but hesitantly. He was trying to be calm, but it was plain that he wanted and hoped for much, much more. "Jonathan, I can't do that to you. It would be kinder just to let it all go."

"You would think so, wouldn't you?" He said painfully. "But it isn't. It feels more like death to be completely away from you." His hold tightened. "Don't decide this now. We'll talk again, after the case is over."

"You mean after I become the Center's indentured servant?"

He smiled soothingly. "You haven't seen Ben in action. They don't know what they're up against."

Jonathan's words proved correct as the case began. Alexa kept her face impassive as she sat next to Ben, even through the slanderous opening statements of the Center's legal team. They painted a portrait of a conniving, self-serving woman who was willing to do anything to gain a little notoriety. The painted a picture of The Center as being used, its technology abused and their goodhearted contribution to the human experience curtailed by the irresponsibility of a single person. Alexa tried not to wince as some of the terms she was called - all very polite, all very legal, all very insulting. She felt sullied by the end of the oration.

Ben sat tapping his pen on the desk for a few moments. Alexa looked at him, hoping he hadn't lost his nerve after that stinging delivery by the Center. Then he looked up directly at the judge and began to speak. "Your Honor," he said. "I find it ironic that my worthy opponents views on the matter are so narrow. The defense and the defendant understand the Center's outrage. We do. But to paint Miss Matthews in such a light is not merely unkind, it is untrue."

He stood up and began slowing traversing the width of the courtroom, hands behind his back in a thoughtful pose. "It is a basic part of human nature to want more for ourselves and those we love. To find solutions to intolerable situations. And as human beings, we don't always make the right choices. But if we judge by action alone, and not motivation, if we discount circumstance or need, we would be very far from being a system of justice. For all these things are necessary to understand why a person like Miss Matthews, who has no history of misbehavior, who works hard, who is surrounded by people who believe in her character and her word, would feel compelled to such a frantic act.

It is too easy to paint pictures using only black and white. It is easy to see the Center as a wronged individual. But that picture is distorted. For the Center is not a person that can be maimed or hurt. The Center is not a living, breathing thing that suffers and is in pain. To paint it in this manner is a lie! The Center is a commercial entity that made a groundbreaking discovery and, without regard to the ethical implications of this new technology, released it for public consumption. All in the name of profit.

It is that same motivation that brings us here today. Profit. The Center has not lost its ability to use this technology, or been mandated to even share it with another entity. Even in scaling back its services, The Center continues to generate one of a kind entertainment at premium prices. The only real loss is in the accounting ledgers that says The Center makes a profit still -- but not to the degree that it first calculated. In its greed and spite, it has turned toward Miss Matthews, trying to force her to bear the brunt of the loss of those millions of pounds of PROFIT!"

Alexa's eyes widened as Ben's voice rose up from its normal, even tones to thunder around the room. "There is nothing noble in this motivation. There are no lives being saved in this process. In this quest for currency, The Center is willing to ruin the future of a young and extremely talented woman." He came to stand in front of her with a smile. She could only look up at him in awe. "Look on her." He told the occupants of the courtroom. "This is a woman, not a corporation. This is a living, breathing, feeling human being. She can make mistakes. She can also be wronged. She can be hurt. She can feel pain. She can suffer. She is one person against a conglomeration. To find for her would restore her existence to a sense of normality. To find for the Center is to enslave her to an unfeeling and calculating master."

He nodded at the judge and sat down. Alexa stared at him in disbelief and turned to look at Jonathan as he sat behind her. His face split into a wide, confident grin at her astonishment.

Court was now in session.

Continued In Next Section