Chapter Thirty-Two
Alice paced back and forth in one of the upstairs parlors, her skirts sweeping the carpet as she moved. For three long days she had lived like this, pacing back and forth, hearing Jamie whisper, my love to her before going limp in her arms.
It had been Toby and Anthony who carried him from the warehouse, bloodied and bruised, his head lolling against Toby’s shoulder, and his coat torn and soaked with sweat and blood.
They’d carried him into his townhouse after an agonizing carriage ride where Jamie’s eyes had stayed closed.
Toby told her to carry on to her home and promised they would care for him.
But Alice didn’t give a fig about propriety; she’d just wanted to be there for Jamie.
But after a brief argument, they’d insisted this was the right thing to do.
“If you wish a life with my friend, then have it because you both want it, not because it is forced upon you.” Anthony had said those words to her, knowing that if society found out she was in Jamie’s house caring for him, all hell would break loose.
So she’d gone to her townhouse. Bathed, eaten what her aunt forced upon her, and waited.
The first note had arrived that night, just before she’d retired, and had details of Jamie’s progress.
He has seen a doctor, received stitches and care for his injuries, and is now sleeping. Dr. Jones says there is no lasting damage, but he needs to rest.
She wasn’t reassured. Alice needed to see him.
“And this is why I should not love another,” she muttered, pacing. It was messy and painful, because suddenly Alice’s contentment rested entirely on Jamie’s health and well-being. She had never wanted this, especially after Charles, someone she loved deeply, had died.
Love, she decided, was an infection of the heart. One moment she had been self-possessed, managing estates and a clinic, battling her father’s whims and society’s rules. The next, she stiffened at every footstep outside her door because it might bring bad news, or worse, no news at all.
“Would you like tea, Alice?”
Her aunt appeared in the doorway.
“No, thank you, Aunt Gwen. Are you going out?”
“I am,” her aunt said with a mild smile. “Lady Hetherington has been reading that dreadful novel about pirates and misplaced virtue. I intend to persuade her that the heroine is entirely to blame for her own misfortunes.”
Despite herself, Alice laughed. “I envy you. My own misfortunes seem rather less straightforward.”
“Then I shall argue with Lady Hetherington in your stead.” Her aunt crossed the room and studied Alice with concern. “Is there any news about Lord Stafford today?”
“No more than yesterday.”
“Well, then,” Aunt Gwen said with brisk optimism, “no news is good news, as your uncle used to say. You must hold on to that, darling.”
“I shall try.”
When her aunt departed, the silence pressed in on her again.
Alice had told her everything on the second day she’d returned to the townhouse after Jackson had kidnapped Jamie.
She’d answered questions and promised never to hide things from her again.
Aunt Gwen had then assured her she would happily live wherever Alice wished to go, after she’d explained what her father wanted.
“I’m sorry, darling, but your father has always been a vile and selfish man,” her aunt had said. Alice had agreed wholeheartedly with her assessment.
The problem was, Aunt Gwen might say she was happy to live anywhere, but Alice knew she loved London and her friends here, and she had no wish to take her aunt away from that.
Alice paced to the window. Beyond the glass, the garden stretched green and drowsy in the afternoon light.
Bobby was down there with Ezra, listening intently as the man explained something to him.
She had hired the boy on Maggie’s recommendation, and already his cheeks had gained color and his eyes hope.
It pleased her to see some good come from all this chaos.
She heard the sound of footsteps and wondered if Phipps or Maggie was checking on her again, or perhaps another note had arrived about Jamie.
However, it was neither of them that stepped into the parlor after the door opened, but her father.
Alice’s heart sank. She did not have the strength to battle wits with him today.
“Daughter,” he snapped.
“Father,” she dipped her head.
“Well, what has been done about what we discussed, Alice?”
“You were only here a few days ago, Father. Surely the need to hurl me from my home is not that urgent.”
Alice wasn’t a nice person to be around when she was worried or tired, or both. She was that now, and her temper was on edge.
“You will marry, daughter, and if you cannot find a suitable candidate, then I will. It is time. Now, I need some money before I leave for France, and when I return, it had better be for your wedding.”
“There is no need, as she will be marrying me.”
“Jamie,” Alice whispered as he walked into the room. A bruise mottled his jaw, and there were dark smudges under his eyes, but other than that, he was as he’d always been. Strong and so handsome.
“Who are you?” her father demanded. He’d not walked in society for many years, so he had lost touch with the names and titles of his peers.
“The Marquess of Stafford.” Jamie’s tone bordered on pompous as he glared down at Alice’s father.
“And you, sir, should be begging your daughter’s forgiveness for your behavior.
What man tosses his family from their home so he can install his mistress there?
What man demands his daughter—the daughter who has run his estates and business affairs for years on his behalf—must wed immediately. You, sir, are a disgrace.”
She really should intervene, but all she could do was stare at Jamie and smile. He was here, and whole.
“How dare you!” her father blustered. “Are you going to let him speak to me like this, Alice?”
“Yes, because you deserve it. Now leave, Father, and go back to your mistress. I will move out of this townhouse as soon as I find suitable accommodations for my aunt and me.”
“You’ll be moving in with me,” Jamie said, his eyes still on her father. “And I will not treat her as you have. With me, she will be happy and loved.”
“My daughter will not move in with you—”
“We will be married first, and to think I am suggesting otherwise speaks more to your nature than mine, sir.”
Her father’s face looked ready to explode, but he did not speak again, simply turned and left the room without looking at his daughter again.
“Jamie—”
“I love you, Alice.” He moved closer, taking her hands as he stopped before her. “I didn’t plan to fall in love, or marry a woman that I would worry and care about the remainder of my life. But you are that person.”
“Jamie—”
“I knew when I was hanging there in that warehouse—”
“He hung you up!” Alice roared, anger filling her body. “I’ll bloody kill him!”
“Jackson is in Newgate Prison, and will stay there, my sweet. But thank you for your anger on my behalf.
“But are you really all right, Jamie? You were stabbed, and that was after taking a beating when those men set upon you.” Alice ran her eyes over him, searching for his pain.
His smile was small but reached his lovely green eyes.
“I would be lying if I said I was back to full strength. In fact, I’m fairly sure that being run over by a herd of oxen would be less painful.
But when I woke this morning, finally clear-headed, my first thought was of you.
I rose and dressed with my staff protesting the entire way.
My butler told me he would send word to Toby or Anthony if I did not return to bed at once. ”
“They care for you.”
“My hope is that you do too,” he said, tugging her hands until her body was closer to his. He then placed Alice’s hands on his chest, one of his lifting her chin until their eyes met.
“I do,” she whispered. “So very much.”
Jamie kissed her then. Gentle and sweet.
“And will you marry me?” He rested his forehead on hers.
“You told my father I would.”
“I’m sorry I told him before I asked you, Alice, but I reacted when I heard how he was speaking to you. He’s your father, and there is every chance I will have to face him across ballrooms and dinner tables, but—”
“He’s a terrible person,” Alice filled in for him.
“We will argue, and our life will not always run smoothly, but know that you will always hold my heart, Alice.”
“My aunt will need a home also, Jamie.”
“Excellent. I’ve always wanted an aunt like Anthony has. If she has no wish to live with us, then we shall settle her in her own townhouse nearby.”
Their words were whispered, faces inches apart.
“We are both strong-willed,” Alice said. “It will not be easy.”
“There will be give or take, but what I love most about you, Lady Alice, is your strength. You are no vapid miss who doesn’t know her mind. Let me share your life, as you will share mine.”
Alice had been alone for so long, the thought of sharing her life with another who would want as much control as she did was daunting.
“Let me help you with funding for your clinic, Alice.”
“Jamie, I don’t want your money.”
“It’s not mine. It’s ours, if you’ll have me. You’ve built something extraordinary, Alice. Let me stand beside you while you continue to do so.”
Her eyes softened. “I want that,” she whispered. Then, after a beat, “But can you truly move on? From Jackson, from the years he stole from you?”
He cupped her face, thumb brushing away a tear. “There will be nights when the darkness still comes. But I believe now I can face it with you beside me.”
She kissed his palm. “Then we’ll heal together.”
No more words were needed. They had not planned to find each other, and she knew their journey would have many twists and turns, but there was no one else Alice would rather traverse it with.