Chapter 2 #2
“Forgive me, Your Grace,” Alice stammered, fiddling with her fingers in her lap. “I am, of course, happy for my mother. She has cared for you for so long that this development is indeed wonderful for her. But I hope you will forgive me for saying that it does not truly have anything to do with me."
“Alice,” her mother said. She looked supremely uncomfortable but took a deep breath. “There is something I must tell you.”
“Something that we must tell you,” the Duke added and gently squeezed her mother’s hand.
Alice felt a sense of trepidation rising up through her.
She felt the sudden urge to stand up and flee the room so that she might avoid whatever they were about to say next.
She was unprepared for further life-changing announcements. Yet she could not move.
“Alice, do you remember what I told you about your father?” her mother asked. Alice’s heart lurched, and beads of perspiration began to form at her temples.
“You have only said that he was a naval officer and died at sea shortly after I was born,” Alice said mechanically; she simply repeated the only story she had ever been told. She clenched her hands in her lap, knowing that whatever happened next would shatter that illusion of her parentage.
“I lied,” her mother said shortly, wanting to get the confession out. “I am sorry. I know that lying to you about your father was an unforgivable sin, but I didn't feel I had any choice.”
Alice did not know if the lie was unforgivable, but she sensed that this was not the worst part of her mother’s confession. She sat immobile. Helpless to stop what would happen next. Only her eyes, darting between her mother and Duke, showed her growing distress.
“It did not give you a choice, Esther,” the Duke whispered. “I forced your hand, and for that, I am sorry. I should have done better by you both.” Alice's mother brought her hand up to the Duke's cheek, and they gazed into one another's eyes for a moment.
"Why was I lied to?" Alice demanded, drawing their attention back to her.
She did not want to hear the answer, but she knew it was inevitable.
A wave of rage welled up inside her. Her mother had been lying to her for her entire life, and the Duke had forced her to.
This was just one more confirmation that men were vile creatures who only cared about themselves.
“Because your grandfather would have cut your father off had he known of your existence,” her mother whispered.
'Why would he do that?"
"Because the family was of high status," Alice's mother said.
Alice pursed her lips, her anger bleeding through. Her grandfather was another man who believed his sex and birth entitled him to trifle with the lives of those he considered beneath him.
When she looked at her mother, she felt a revelation rushing toward her, like a carriage slipping off the road in the rain, and she was powerless to stop it.
Tears streamed down the woman's cheeks, but Alice couldn't find a way to soften her outrage.
She glared angrily at the Duke, almost daring him with her eyes to be the one to speak the truth. "Who?" she asked, knowing the answer.
“The previous Duke of Fitzroy,” the Duke whispered. “My father."
“So you are my father,” Alice blurted out and stared at him. The ramifications of this revelation were staggering. If she had not been seated, she surely would have lost her footing.
“I am,” he whispered. “I am so sorry that I did not acknowledge you, Alice. More sorry than you can ever know."
It was suddenly too much to bear. Alice did not care if he was dying or if he was now her mother’s husband. She did not care that he held even more power over her than he did before. Her fury was incandescent.
“You say I am your child, yet I have spent my life toiling as a servant in your household,” Alice said.
She was shaking with indignation. "And you continued to employ my mother after forcing her to bear a child out of wedlock like she was nothing but a courtesan. No, worse than that. You did not even give her the benefits of a real mistress. You did not set her up in a lovely house in London. Did not give her fine jewels or clothes. Did not even give her the opportunity to find a new protector if you ever tired of her. You kept her trapped here under your own roof, condemned to a life of drudgery and disdain simply for your own enjoyment.”
“Alice do not say such things!” her mother admonished.
“No, my dear, do not scold her. She has a right to her anger,” the Duke rasped, squeezing her mother’s hand.
He looked at Alice with a broken expression on his face that startled her.
“Alice, you must understand that I have never loved anyone but your mother.
I tried to protect her as best I could under the circumstances.
I know that I failed you both. I was wrong not to stand up to my father, but I am trying to make up for it by doing this. "
“Doing what?” Alice asked. She struggled to understand how the Duke felt he had protected either of them.
Where was he when her mother was called a whore?
When she had to endure the advances of the male staff and visiting nobleman who believed she should lift her skirts for them since she did it so obligingly for her master?
Where was he when Alice was called cruel names and pushed around, sometimes physically, because she was nothing but the daughter of a common doxy?
“As you know, I have no other children,” the Duke said.
“You and your mother will have an abundant inheritance upon my death.
More than enough to live the life of luxury you should have had all along.
I have also petitioned the crown and have been awarded a special dispensation.
Your firstborn son will inherit my title, Alice.
He will become the next Duke of Fitzroy with all that entails. "
“It is so generous, my darling,” her mother said, sniffing and wiping her tears away with a handkerchief.
Alice was speechless. The thought of becoming an heiress was absurd.
Would she now be ushered into society like a whey-faced debutante?
The idea was so overwhelming that she lost some of her rage to nausea.
And if she ever had a son, he would be a duke.
She couldn't think of anything she wished for less.
It was unthinkable that her child would inherit the title of the man who had ruined her mother and forced her to work in his kitchens.
“I know it is not enough to make up for my mistakes,” the Duke said, his eyes fixing longingly on Alice’s face as if he hoped she would contradict him. “I have wronged you both, but I hope this action will help earn some forgiveness."
“It is enough, my love,” her mother said desperately, grasping her new husband’s hand. “Isn’t it, dear Alice? It is more than enough.”