Free Love in High Places by Jane Beaufort

he would probably feel that he had lost something quite irreplaceable, and it didn’t matter that there were many things he had lost which he would not recover.
    He was another one like von Felden, brought up on a tradition and at sea in a world that no longer required his kind. He was Count von Hochenberg, but Valentine felt certain that if she inquired about Hochenberg she would be told it no longer existed ... save, perhaps, as a place name. He was clinging to a way of life, just as Alex was clinging, with probably just as little to make it possible.
    But for him, a man who was no longer young, there was some excuse. For Alex there could be no excuse.
    There came a light tap at the door, and Valentine went to open it. Alex himself stood there. He smiled down at her with a languid flash of his white teeth.
    “I was prepared to make every endeavour not to disturb you,” he told her. “But I couldn’t just walk in without warning you by knocking. Lou wants her purse ... a brocade purse that she said she left on the table in this room.”
    Valentine picked it up and handed it to him.
    “I think this is the one you mean,” she said quietly.
    He allowed his dark glance to slide over her ... a leisurely process, even insolent.
    “Not dancing to-night?” he inquired. “Are you being the faithful little attendant who never deserts her post, or is it because your Englishman appears to have evaporated into thin air?”
    “Mr. Haversham has gone away for a few days, if that’s what you mean,” she returned stiffly.
    “Too bad,” he murmured. His glance dropped to the reading matter under her arm. “So you are going to keep boredom at bay by devouring all that is devourable in those magazines? Poor little Cinderella! You must find you r self another Englishman!”
    “I ... have no intention of finding myself anyone,” Valentine managed to articulate, disturbed because, owing to an uprush of resentment, she couldn’t prevent her voice shaking.
    She thought that his dark eyes looked suddenly amused, and one beautifully marked eyebrow ascended.
    “So? Then I’m afraid there is a lot of boredom in store for you, little one, and I can do nothing about it! Good night, Cinderella!” And he tucked the purse into a pocket and strode off casually in the direction of the lift.
    Valentine closed the door and leaned against it.
    “ Good night, Cinderella !” There had been a glimmer of something harsh, and even cruel, in his eyes. His voice had mocked.

 
    CHAPTER SIX
    The next day Lou, in an unusually expansive mood, told Valentine she could take the whole day off if she chose.
    “Alex and I are going off with a party on some new climb, and we might not be back until evening. In any case, I can look after myself if we do get back and you’re not here. Take the ski-lift up to the Devil’s Plateau, as they call it, and have lunch at the little hotel there. The food’s quite good, and it will make a change for you. Also there’s a tea orchestra, if you’d like to stay for it. I’ll be responsible for all the wild extravagance.”
    “Thank you, but I can pay for my own extravagance,” Valentine assured her, smiling, however, gratefully, because Lou was prepared to be generous.
    Lou struggled into her windcheater, and Valentine zipped it up for her.
    “All right. Be independent ... and English!” But Lou touched her cheek almost affectionately. “And have a good day. That’s the important thing!”
    Valentine watched them depart from the hotel, a noisy cluster of rainbow-hued figures. The men had packs attached to their backs, as well as skis carried at the correct angle on their shoulders, and Valentine guessed there would be a meal in the open — a merry meal accompanied by much laughter, and possibly the popping of champagne corks, while the sun scorched down from the cloudless heaven and burned them browner than they were. She couldn’t resist a sensation of envy as she listened to the noisy tramp of their