Chapter 32
Alice soon learned that her newfound sister didn’t do anything in half measures.
Her unexpected visit was only the first step in her friendship campaign.
She had apparently decided to take Alice under her wing and had followed up with an invitation to tea in her home, to which she had also invited Josephine and Esther.
Today, Abigail had convinced her to go shopping for hats.
Not that it had been difficult. With the mission completed, Dalton having no new assignments for her and ordering her not to go to the office until further notice, and Nathaniel away, Alice found herself at odds, with too much time on her hands.
She had needed the distraction. Otherwise, she would sit at home and obsess over Nathaniel and their relationship.
She already did enough of that in the evenings.
And the nights without him were the worst. How had she managed to live without him for five long years?
How would she do it again if she lost him this time?
Abigail had proved a great friend and ally.
Oh, how she wished she had known her sister growing up.
There had been so many times in her life when she had needed the sympathetic ear of a close friend!
But the important thing was that she was here now, and although their relationship was new, she knew in her bones it would be lifelong.
“What do you think of this one?” Alice asked Abigail, turning to her wearing a flowery confection of bright green flowers.
Abigail made a face.
“The style is pretty, but I should advise you against that color. Why don’t you try it in yellow? Or pink?”
Well, that was not a flattering reaction.
“Does it look that bad on me? The shopkeeper tells me it’s all the rage, and I think the color is pretty.”
Abigail came closer. “The problem is not the way it looks, but the ill effects it could cause. You may not know this, but Colin is a doctor. He once treated a lady complaining of sores and headaches. After several consults, they were able to trace the worsening of her symptoms to when she wore a gown of this particular shade of green. It’s called Paris Green, and there’s mounting evidence that it’s toxic. ”
Alice immediately removed the hat from her head and looked at the bright flowers with alarm. They didn’t look pretty anymore. They looked positively dangerous, which they probably were. She set the hat aside and walked away, searching for a less deadly head ornament.
The shop bell tinkled behind her as Alice drifted toward a far display, drawn by a confection of pale pink silk roses perched on a stand.
It was entirely too frivolous, too girlish—and perhaps that was why she slipped it on.
It brought roses to her cheeks, and she privately thought it looked lovely.
Hopefully, there would be nothing wrong with this one.
She turned, looking for Abigail to ask her opinion.
But it was not Abigail standing there. Instead, she came face to face with her mother-in-law.
Alice’s breath caught.
The Dowager Lady Greystone regarded her coolly, her lined lips curving into the faintest suggestion of amusement. “Oh, Alice, my dear,” she murmured, her voice as smooth as satin and just as slippery. “That shade of pink does you no favors. Makes you look like a blushing schoolgirl.”
Heat rushed to Alice’s cheeks. She plucked the hat from her head and set it back on the stand with deliberate care, her fingers steady despite the little shock that had gone through her.
“Lady Greystone,” she said politely, inclining her head. “What a surprise to see you here.”
The dowager’s brows arched in mock-pleasure. “Why yes, quite the surprise. Though I must say, I am glad fate arranged this meeting. I have been meaning to pay you a visit.”
Alice’s heart thudded uneasily. “Visit me? For what purpose?” She didn’t care if the words sounded rude. There was no more pretense of civility between them.
“To thank you for setting Nathaniel free, of course.”
The words struck like a blow. Alice could only stare as the dowager continued, her tone warm and falsely gracious.
“I confess, I never thought you would do it. But I am so glad you came to your senses, my dear. I always feared the marriage was ill-suited. And now—why, you have acted with remarkable wisdom and selflessness. To release Nathaniel, to allow him to reclaim his life and look to the future…”
Alice’s lips parted, but no sound emerged. Nathaniel had told his mother that she did not wish to remain married? That the divorce would proceed? It was not a lie, not truly. She had said those awful words. But hearing it from the dowager’s lips twisted like a knife in her chest.
The older woman stepped closer, lowering her voice, her expression almost kind.
“I misjudged you, Alice. I thought you selfish, even grasping. But now I see you for what you are—a woman who understands her duty and her place. Nathaniel will have the chance to find a more suitable wife. One who wishes to live with him, who will give him children. Because a man in his position must have heirs, you know.”
Children. Another wife. Another woman in Nathaniel’s bed, in his arms. The image struck with merciless clarity. Pain lanced through Alice’s chest, hot and bright, leaving her lightheaded. Over my dead body. Nathaniel was hers. The thought of surrendering him to anyone else made her ill.
“Ah, Lady Hartfield,” the dowager said brightly, her tone shifting as Abigail approached.
Abigail’s eyes swept the scene and sharpened, instantly recognizing the dowager’s intent to wound. She dipped her head in a polite but cool greeting.
“Another surprise! Though given your connection to Alice, I suppose I should not be astonished,” the dowager trilled.
Abigail’s smile was small and entirely without warmth. Her raised eyebrows discouraged further elaboration on the subject.
The dowager gave a little titter, her gloved hand fluttering to her throat. “Oh dear, have I been indiscreet? You mustn’t worry, my dear. Your mother was a good friend of mine. I would never sully her memory by speaking too freely of your father’s…indiscretions.”
Abigail’s spine straightened, her smile sharpening to something dangerous. “I am not ashamed of my connection to Alice,” she said evenly. “In fact, I am delighted to have found a sister.”
The dowager’s own smile cooled a fraction before she recovered.
“Of course, dear. You are the epitome of grace—just as your mother was. Which reminds me, I should like to invite you personally to a ball I am holding at our London house in three days’ time.
It is my hope to draw Nathaniel out of his hermit ways and remind him of his duty to society.
He will need it once he begins to look for a wife again. ”
Abigail’s answering smile did not reach her eyes. “You are too kind, my lady. I would be delighted to attend.”
“Excellent! I shall see you there.” The dowager turned back to Alice, her expression one of smug benevolence. “And Alice—thank you again, my dear. You are doing the right thing.”
With that, she swept from the shop, the doorbell chiming cheerfully in her wake.
The silence she left behind rang in Alice’s ears.
Abigail slipped her hand through Alice’s arm.
“Are you quite well, dearest? I could not help but overhear her—as I am sure she intended. That was appalling behavior on the dowager’s part.
To speak of divorce so publicly, to hint at Nathaniel’s remarriage…
” Abigail’s lips compressed. “It was tasteless.”
Yes, it was. But at last it had given her clarity. It had bolstered her resolve to do what she needed to do: to break free once and for all.
Alice lifted her chin. “Do not trouble yourself, Abigail. At least now I know what my next step must be.”
The carriage rattled to a stop before a neat brick building on a quiet street off Chancery Lane.
John stepped out first and turned to help her descend, holding an umbrella to protect her from the drizzle.
Alice gathered her gloves in trembling fingers and drew in a steadying breath before stepping down to the pavement.
“Thank you,” she said softly, glancing up at John as he held the umbrella aloft above her. “Not just for today, but for everything you’ve done to help me. I would have been quite lost without you.”
His expression softened, “You are my sister. I’d help you with anything you asked.”
She offered him a faint, grateful smile, then glanced toward the solicitor’s polished brass nameplate gleaming in the grey morning light. The sight sent a shiver of resolve through her.
“Were you able to obtain the necessary documents?” she asked, her voice quiet but steady.
John slipped a hand inside his coat and tapped the breast pocket where papers lay hidden.
“I have them. But Alice…” His brow furrowed, the question clear in his dark eyes.
“Are you certain this is the best way to proceed? There may be another way, a quieter way. You might speak with Nathaniel first and avoid all this.”
Alice’s throat tightened. She looked away, watching a hansom cab rattle past, its wheels clattering against the slick cobbles.
“No,” she said at last, firm and sure. “I have dithered for too long. Let things happen to me instead of taking the reins of my life. This is what I must do. He will know precisely where I stand when all is said and done.”
John studied her for a long moment, then nodded slowly, as if recognizing the steel in her spine. “Very well. Then let us proceed.”
She drew in another breath, gathering her resolve, and together they climbed the steps to the solicitor’s office.
The polished door swung open to admit them, and Alice stepped inside.
At last, she was taking the necessary steps, she had a plan.
And even if it was scary, the certainty filled her with courage.