Chapter 24
Life at Hampton House had lost some of its luster since Alice departed. Ethan paused in his work, looking out to the garden that bloomed on the other side of the glass.
Now early April, many of Matthias’s starts were taking root, bringing Alice’s garden to life.
Though many of the plants and flowers were still small, he could begin to see her vision.
Tall grasses mixed with wildflowers along the pathways that edged the circular lawn.
Vines would grow over the stone wall, and the wood anemone would eventually surround the benches placed beneath the shelter of the old trees near the river.
It was a blend of textures and colors, varying shades and tones of green that were peaceful and pleasing.
It was ethereal, like part of a fairyland, and yet completely natural.
Looking out at the variety of greenery helped ease Ethan’s tumultuous mind, soothing the endless thoughts of all that needed to be accomplished.
For the first time, he could see the value the garden brought, which both Alice and Priscilla had tried to get him to understand from the start.
There was usefulness and purpose in being surrounded by beauty.
It could bring a sense of pride to all who were connected to the estate.
He wished he could tell Alice that he saw her vision now, that he understood.
He wanted to explain that she was still the only thing that helped him let go and be present, to be able to release his fierce control of everything around him and be still for a moment.
He wanted to tell her that he missed her, that he’d catch himself thinking he saw her—turning a corner with her red curls trailing behind her.
But it was nothing more than a phantom, and Ethan felt haunted, like a piece of himself was missing.
Impulsively he picked up a new sheet of paper, and before Ethan could think too hard about what a terrible idea it was, he began writing her a letter.
Alice collected her correspondence from the butler with a murmured thanks. There were a few letters and cards, and she sat down at her writing desk to open them, prepared to reply to the invitations that were included.
“What new invitations have you received? You know how vital it is to choose carefully whose gatherings you attend,” her father said from his chair by the window, eyes appearing above his paper.
He’d been up and about for a few days now, the head cold finally releasing its clutches on him and allowing his weakened lungs to breathe easy once more.
“Yes, Father,” she said with a sigh. If Alice had her way, she’d turn down every single invitation that lay on her desk. She was so disillusioned with polite society, she had no idea how she was going to get through this spring when the season hadn’t even officially begun.
Alice saw everything around her differently now and being at events like the dinner a few evenings ago chaffed, no longer easy or comfortable.
It was as if her time at Hampton House had removed a veil from her eyes, just like Priscilla intended.
Alice no longer felt content with the life that had been planned out for her.
She still craved to be a dutiful daughter and ease her father’s worries, but she didn’t know if she had it in her any longer to agree to a match simply to please him.
What kind of life would she have in a marriage devoid of respect and affection?
Ethan’s handsome face arose in her mind once again, and she struggled to keep tears at bay.
She picked up her letter opener with a shuddering breath and sliced through the first few envelopes: an afternoon tea with Lady Dorning, a musical evening with some of the new debutants, and a dinner at Lady Spencer’s now that she was back in Town.
She wanted to decline them all but knew her father would press her to attend at least the dinner at Lady Spencer’s, recalling his enthusiasm upon hearing Priscilla had facilitated an introduction.
Tossing the invitation back onto the pile, it shifted, upending the precarious balance, and causing a few cards to tumble to the floor.
Immediately, she snatched up a letter from her cousin that came into view, eager for any news.
She wanted to know how Priscilla was faring as her babe grew and hoped there might be some other news of what was happening around the estate.
Priscilla had written a few times since Alice’s return to town, filling her in on what she was missing and bemoaning the absence of West, who was still in London working on parliamentary matters.
Tearing open the parcel, Alice was surprised to see an additional letter tucked inside.
It was in an unfamiliar hand, but she gasped when skimming her eyes over the page revealed Ethan’s signature at the bottom.
“Is everything alright, Alice?”
She heard her father’s question but failed to respond as she picked up the pressed flowers that were tucked into the folds of the parchment.
Lifting up an early spring rose, Alice held the dried petals to her face and breathed in deeply.
Closing her eyes, the scent brought her back to her first encounter with Ethan in the glasshouse when she had been smelling just such a rose.
Her lips trembled at how callous she had been in mistaking him for an attendant on the estate.
His words to her at dinner that evening rushed back to her—how displeased he’d been when she admitted she would have treated him with more respect had she known who he was.
He’d been disgusted that she would differentiate her behavior based simply on one’s status.
She was ashamed now that she had done so without thought—that she had believed what she’d been taught without question.
“Alice? Did you hear me? What’s wrong?” Opening her eyes and turning toward her father, she saw him attempting to rise from his chair.
“Father, I’m fine, no need to trouble your leg. I was distracted by what Priscilla included in her letter.” Not exactly an outright lie as Ethan’s letter had been inside with Priscilla’s.
Father grunted before resettling into his chair. “Never mind your cousin, what invitations came today? I heard the Earl of Landover is now in town, he would be an excellent match. Accept any offers where he may be in attendance. You are aware of with whom he is connected?”
“Yes, Father.” Alice sighed. The earl in question was a recent widower in his fourth decade.
She couldn’t help but think of how Priscilla described her first marriage to the elderly duke; however, she would say whatever necessary to appease her father at this precise moment so she could return to Ethan’s letter.
Picking it back up, she noticed he had attempted to draw a picture of the garden in first bloom on the back of the page.
Though certainly not a proficient artist, the thought behind the gesture touched her deeply, and she felt a tear trickle down her cheek.
Turning it over, she was eager to read his message.
My dear Alice,
Please forgive my forwardness in presuming a letter from me would be welcome when we did not discuss such communication before your departure.
I hope that your father is returning to good health, as Priscilla has indicated, and that you are resettling into your home.
I hope that you and Knightly are well, and your feline companion reminds you of your time with us.
I believe bringing him to you may have been one of the best ideas I’ve had.
I am writing because I wanted to let you know about your garden and how much beauty it is providing the estate.
You were correct that such an undertaking would improve morale, and I am ashamed I did not recognize it before.
All of Matthias’ starts are taking root and thriving, providing a colorful blanket over the beds bordering the lawn.
The transplanted roses are doing well—I’ve included one here so that you might enjoy its scent, even if its beauty will have faded before it reaches you.
The expanded kitchen garden has been a blessing to all those who live near the estate.
While still too early for summer produce, spring treats such as sweet peas, asparagus, and tender lettuces are growing in abundance.
The estate cook has been blessing us with the fresh greens at dinner, and many on staff have taken some home to share with their families.
This is only possible due to your thoughtfulness.
And the wood anemone grows strong beneath the oaks, the star blooms standing out like brilliant lights, making everything around them more cheerful.
Your absence is felt keenly. David believes I’ve reverted to being more of a tyrant now that you are not here to keep me in check, to staunch my need for absolute organization and control.
And the place is dimmer without your smile and bright copper curls reflecting the spring light back at us.
I wish you could be here to experience it all yourself.
Your humble servant,
Ethan
Alice was stunned as she read the simple but beautiful words.
Her fingertips caressed the page, tracing the lines of ink that had come from his hand.
Turning the page over she looked again at his illustration and noticed the detail he had given the wood anemone, the star blooms distinct among his other lines.
Alice was so caught up in imagining herself back in the garden with Ethan that she hadn’t noticed her father approaching.
“What is this?” he asked as he limped forward and snatched the letter from her hand. “This isn’t your cousin’s writing.”
“Father, please give that back,” she pleaded as his eyes scanned the letter. He was crumpling it in his grip, and she had to restrain herself from yanking the precious item from him.
“Who is this man, and why is he writing to you? The presumption to use your Christian name!” He looked at Alice, eyes boring into hers, but she didn’t know how to explain. “Answer me! Who is so bold as to write you?”
“Father, please calm down and let me explain.” She was concerned by his red face and heavy breathing. “Eth—Mr. Beaumont is the marquess’ cousin. He manages the estate for West.”
At that information, he let out a harumph.
“Well why is he writing to you? He’s correct that it’s presumptuous.
What is this garden he’s rambling about?
And is he the one responsible for that blasted cat?
” Flinging his arm out towards where Knightly lay cleaning himself in a patch of sun, she flinched as the letter fluttered from further abuse.
“Mr. Beaumont became my friend while I was at Hampton House,” Alice began slowly, her mind racing. Did she dare to express her feelings? Tell her father that she had grown fond of Ethan and what a good man he was? Was this her chance to see if he’d ever consider Ethan a possible match?
“We worked together on refurbishing Priscilla’s garden while I was there. You know how I’ve always loved flowers. He wrote because I left before I was able to see the garden in full bloom—he’s simply sharing the results of my project.”
Her father looked at the drawing and curled his lip.
“This is what you were doing there?” He tightened his fist on the page, causing the paper to twist, crumpling even more.
Alice winced and barely stopped herself from crying out.
“What was your cousin thinking—having you work alongside common men? No wonder you didn’t have any satisfactory answers when I inquired what you had learned.
I questioned your vagueness, and you avoided me.
” His eyes held nothing but accusation as his chest rose and fell rapidly in irritation. Alice was becoming worried.
“Father, please sit, I don’t want you to become overwrought. Nothing untoward happened while I was away, I promise you.” He resisted as she tried to direct him to the chair, eventually relenting and half collapsing onto the cushion, panting.
“I’m fine, stop your fussing.” He shoved her hands away as she sought to feel his pulse like the doctor had demonstrated. “Tell me why this man thought it appropriate to write you.”
His face was red, and Alice was growing increasingly concerned as his breathing continued to be labored.
“I told you, Father, he became my friend while we worked together. He’s a respectable man from a good family, and as he is West’s family, he’s like family to us as well.
There is nothing inappropriate.” She glanced down, unable to look him in the eye as most her thoughts concerning Ethan of late had been decidedly inappropriate.
Gasping between words, he pitched out, “You’re not being .
. . truthful . . . with me, Alice . . . I .
. . can tell.” Alice knelt on the floor beside him and grabbed his hand—her worst nightmare coming true before her very eyes.
She had caused her father undue stress and it was sending him into an episode.
She called out for assistance while he looked at her, chest heaving and sweat dripping down his temple.
“Tell me!” If he’d had enough breath left in him, it would have been a bellow.
Tears streaming down Alice’s face, she feared he’d go into a fit of apoplexy unless she divulged the truth.
Providing half answers was only increasing his distress.
“I’m sorry, Papa,” she said, reverting to the name she hadn’t used since before the accident.
“I didn’t mean to, but I fell in love with him. ”
Then everything happened at once. Their butler and a footman burst into the room just as her father’s eyes grew wide at her admission, his hand now slack within her grip and his body slumped forward, unconscious.