Chapter 7 #2
Alice would have flushed at his perception if a part of her wasn’t so grateful to be understood in a way she had not thought possible since her circumstances changed.
She was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion and felt a sting in the corners of her eyes.
She deliberately turned her head towards the distant lake.
She looked at the glittering water until she felt sure she could speak without her voice displaying her turbulent feelings.
“Yes, well, it is still better than being a kitchen maid,” she said lightly, staring down at her gloved hands as they gripped her horse's reins tightly. “At least I do not have to work from sunup to midnight, gaining chapped hands and then climbing the stairs to the cold attic to sleep.”
“Your life story is rather astonishing,” Marco said quietly.
Alice looked at him sharply. She was used to people’s astonishment.
It was usually tinged with a hint of incredulity.
How often had she heard disapproving matrons whispering behind their fans?
They believed she must have suspected her true parentage since she knew her mother warmed the Duke’s bed regularly.
“I did not know,” Alice said curtly, even as Marco frowned in confusion. “You are wondering if I knew who my father was. I did not.”
She expected him to quiz her for more details. To bombard her with a stream of questions centered on what she had known.
“Did you never have questions about your father?” Marco asked.
It was not the inquiry that Alice expected.
It was kind and gentle, and his eyes were full of empathy.
Alice allowed her walls to drop a scant bit and didn’t immediately return his thoughtful words with a barb.
She again looked out at the landscape and swallowed heavily.
“I had many but was given few answers. I was only told that my father was in the navy and died at sea. I had no reason to doubt my mother’s claim,” Alice stated.
“I am sorry.” Marco’s voice was full of tenderness. “You must have mourned him in your own way.”
His words were so insightful that Alice almost pulled Dido to a halt.
No one ever considered that in discovering her true parentage, she had lost the image of a father she had harbored for her entire life.
A father that she imagined loved her and had not wanted to leave.
That shattered fantasy was replaced by a cold Duke who had willingly let her live as a lowly servant while he pretended she did not exist.
“As much as one can mourn a fairytale,” Alice sighed heavily, every word weighted with the pain of the past. “I understood early on that my mother had not been married to my father because of the snide comments the other servants hurled at us both."
“I am sorry that you were treated so disrespectfully,” Marco said. She caught a hint of fury in his words that puzzled her. Yet the fact that he felt indignation on her behalf lit a warm glow inside her belly. Alice smiled and tried not to flush.
“Well, servants can be just as vicious as the nobility, but it is of no matter,” she said dismissively. Still, Marco merely smiled at her as if he ultimately saw through her words. She had never experienced that kind of understanding before.
“I think that whatever their status, when a child is insulted because of the actions of their parents, there is bound to be a terrible sting,” he said. The simplicity of his words struck her to the core and brought memories of past cruelties to the surface.
“Indeed,” Alice said tautly and tried to change the subject, patting Dido’s neck to help her feel more settled and comfortable. “And what of your background? Your parents?”
“I had a humble upbringing in rural Italy,” Marco said easily, and Alice was grateful that he did not press her for more of her past. “I was schooled locally on the estate of my cousin’s father.”
“That would be the Duke of Grasmere?” Alice asked. She had sat up late with her mother last night, learning all she knew about the Marquess of Bath and his wife. She hoped to glean insights into Marco through her mother's knowledge of his family.
“Yes, he had an Italian estate that he would visit frequently,” Marco said. “My mother and aunt were employed there.”
Alice raised her eyebrows. He had spoken the words so nonchalantly that she thought she must have misheard them and dared to ask for a confirmation.
“Your aunt was in service to the Duke?” she queried.
Marco nodded and patted the neck of the bay stallion he rode.
“So I do understand. I comprehend the gap in the world below stairs as above,” he said quietly, holding her gaze steadily.
“I understand how love can blossom in even the most inappropriate places. My cousin is loved by his father, even though it took the Duke many years to find him and express that. Perhaps your father loved you too.”
Alice sincerely doubted that since he had hidden his true identity from her for her entire life. She swallowed down this bitter thought and shrugged as if her father's affection were of no matter to her.
“Perhaps it is as you say,” Alice said as lightly as she could manage.
“Well, he must have looked upon the woman you were becoming with pride,” Marco said.
“Must he?” Alice replied and shook her head, her hopeless resentment bleeding into her voice. “Most look at me and see all the ways the Duke failed.”
“Alice,” Marco pulled their horses to a stop and reached over to grasp her hand on the reins.
Alice looked down and felt her insides churning with delight but also with a deep sadness she couldn’t quite place.
She often viewed herself as a failure since her father thought so little of her that he didn't claim her until his death was imminent and he had no other heirs.
“No one could ever consider you a failure.”
Alice fought down a swell of affection for this unusual man, who had suddenly disarmed her with his genuine nature and insights. She shook herself and pulled her hand away, even though she mourned the loss of his touch.
“I must say, you are not like any other gentleman of the ton, Marco,” she quipped quietly as they rode on.
“That is because I am not. I am only tolerated in society because of my connection to the marquess. I am a working gentleman if I can be called a gentleman at all. I have little patience for the vagaries of society.”
“You sneer at the other gentleman because of the unearned advantages of their birth, yet your cousin is a marquess,” Alice smiled, raising her eyebrows in a challenge. “Does that not seem like a paradox?”
“Not in the slightest,” Marco said lightly, but Alice saw a flicker of fire in his jade eyes.
Clearly, his family meant a great deal to him.
“Giovanni came to his station later in life. He spent his youth fighting for his very life on the streets, and thanks to Mr. Klane’s guidance, nothing he gained then was unearned. Much like you, Alice.”
Her stomach lurched at his compliment and the respect she heard inside it, but she merely tossed her hair.
“I am unworthy of such praise,” Alice said, shaking her head in amusement. “I am but a girl who woke up one morning as a kitchen maid and ended that day as an heiress.”
“If you are unworthy, then surely no one is deserving,” Marco said fervently. Alice almost felt she could believe him.
“Perhaps that is the truth of it, Marco,” she said with a heavy sigh, glancing over the beautiful grounds around her.
Everything in her life seemed much more manageable when she was away from it.
“Perhaps no one is worthy of having such wealth and power. As far as I can ascertain, it does not make one any better or kinder than anyone else.”
Alice knew that those benefits certainly had not made her father a better man.
“I can agree with that,” Marco said confidently, and Alice wondered what perhaps had happened to him that made him think that great wealth was corruptive. “Are you perhaps a radical, Alice?”
“I fear I just might be!” Alice laughed, shaking her curls. “Perhaps you should be afraid that I shall radicalize you.”
“I do not think I could be afraid of anything that pertains to you, Alice” Marco smiled as they drew to a stop by the lake. “But now I must ask the most important question of the day. Are you enjoying yourself?"
“I do believe that I am,” Alice said with a smile.
She held her breath as he dismounted and came around his horse, offering his arms to help her dismount.
Alice pressed her hands against his broad shoulders and tried not to gasp at the sensation of his warm, strong hands encircling her waist. Before she knew it, she was on the ground, looking at his handsome face.
She was very aware of his hands lingering on her back and that she had no desire for him to move.
She gulped and looked into his lushly verdant eyes. “Yes. I am indeed enjoying myself.”
“Ah,” Marco said, grinning. He stepped back, and Alice felt herself lamenting the loss of his touch. It made her feel reckless and excited as if, for the first time in her life, she could possibly do something rash. “So that must mean that I have won the wager."
“I suppose you did,” Alice smiled and looked around at the beautiful lake.
She could feel the heat of the day and of her fevered thoughts throughout her body and decided to see just how radical Marco's sensibilities could be.
She wanted to know if he was as different from the other gentleman as he appeared to be.
She smiled at him as she unpinned her hat and tossed it to the ground at his feet.
At his raised eyebrows, she bent to begin removing her riding boots and said breezily, "Since you have won, I suppose I must keep up my end of the bargain and jump into this lake. "