16. Chapter 16
CHAPTER 16
W ham.
Something hit Alice hard, knocking all the air from her lungs and sending her flying. She expected to fall beneath the thundering hooves of the horses at any moment, but instead found herself suspended in the air, held aloft by a powerful grip on her waist.
Her eyes flew open as she realized she was being clutched by a man on horseback. He let out a string of expletives entirely unsuitable for a lady’s ears as they careened off the road, the carriage rushing past behind them close enough that she felt the wind of its passage.
The man’s grip became unsteady, and he lost his hold, sending her tumbling into a pile of leaves and bushes at the side of the road, followed by another round of curses. The bay horse let out a frightened whinny as the rider dismounted in one fluid motion.
Alice groaned, her entire side aching from where she’d landed. As she turned onto her back, a familiar face came into view above her.
Captain Victor Lacey.
He seemed more concerned than vexed, breathing hard from the exertion, but despite his harsh countenance, he approached her with urgency.
“Are you injured?” His hands found her shoulders, gently helping her to sit up, eyes searching for any sign.
Alice realized in that moment exactly what had happened. Captain Lacey had brought his horse to a gallop and plucked her from the road with one arm, barely saving her life. She blinked up at him, unable to form words.
“Can you stand?”
He gingerly helped her to her feet, and she moved her arms and legs, searching for injuries. Her ribs felt slightly tender, but other than that, she was fine. And alive.
She should not be alive.
Once he was certain she was uninjured, Captain Lacey allowed the vexation to work into his words.
“Just what were you thinking, walking in the middle of the road like that, you could have been—” The words died on his tongue as he seemed to find something in her countenance. It was as though his sharp gaze pierced through her, laying bare the truth of what she had been attempting.
His voice lowered, gentler than before, but not without bite.
“Just … why were you walking in the first place?”
Alice looked off toward where the carriages had disappeared around the bend.
“It seems as though whatever I do, whatever I try, I am a disappointment,” she finally said. “My mother thought a walk would help me come to my senses.”
Victor pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers and let out a steadying breath, face tipped to the sky. When he finally looked at her again, she could see he was barely containing a boiling rage.
“Do you mean to tell me that your mother forced you from the carriage to walk miles back to Fairfax Hall?”
Alice glanced at the ground in shame.
“I deserve worse.”
He reached out and gripped her arm, firm enough to get her attention.
“Do not say such a thing. You deserve more than a modicum of respect, Miss Montrose, whether you believe it or not. Do you understand?” When she did not reply, he shook her. “Understand?”
“I suppose.”
“Good.” Victor released her, stepping back with his hands on his hips to take her in. “Now. This will be unacceptable if you wish to spend the afternoon socializing with His Grace.”
Alice let out a hysterical, snorting laugh. This was utterly ridiculous, and part of her knew she didn’t have to hold back around this man.
“Any plans have most definitely been cancelled. I have burned down all the good will I might have had with His Grace. He has made it perfectly clear that he does not wish to be in my acquaintance.”
Victor raised an eyebrow. “It went that poorly?”
“He did not tell you what happened?”
Victor shook his head, then folded his arms across his chest and waited. Alice didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the ridiculousness of it all.
“We quarreled about you . I said that you would have quite a difficult time finding a wife with such a disagreeable character, and he got very still and ... and he seemed to explode.”
Victor seemed to tense for a moment, then relaxed, a wicked half-smile creeping onto his face.
“Oh, that would do it. Did he really give you a proper tongue lashing?”
Alice stepped closer, gesticulating as she spoke.
“He was angrier than I’ve ever seen. I did not think the man had it in him.”
That seemed to please Victor very much, because his half-smile turned into a full grin.
“So you brought out His Grace’s temper. What a treat. There are few who are so privileged to see it.”
“Is His Grace truly an angry man?”
“Oh no, he would not hurt an innocent. I once watched him stop his sister from killing a spider just so he could save it by whisking it into the gardens.” Victor tapped the side of his nose. “But if you land on a topic in which His Grace is particularly passionate about, the claws come out. You just happened to stumble upon one.”
Alice hadn’t realized she’d hit such a tender spot with Elias, and she wasn’t going to ask exactly why. Obviously, the two men were like brothers, and she had been a fool to speak so carelessly.
“I apologize for being so uncivil,” she whispered. “I should not have said it in the first place.”
“Oh, I most definitely deserve it,” said Victor. “Probably worse. I will make sure His Grace knows how insufferably I have treated you, and perhaps that will make him feel poorly about using his temper against you.”
The casual way he offered to take the blame made something twist in Alice’s chest. After everything she had thought about him, everything she had said, here he was trying to help her. Again.
His eyes traced her figure with the detached scrutiny of a military man.
“We must get you back, but before we do, I shall fix you up. Wouldn’t want anyone to see you as disheveled as you appear now.”
“It is not as though it will make any difference, as my mother has told me I must stay in our rooms for the rest of the event.”
Victor motioned for her to come closer.
“We shall see about that. Now turn around, Lady Rose.”
She did as she was told, and he started picking brambles from her dress and dusting off her skirts. Her dress bow had come loose in the chaos, and he tied it properly, tightening it.
“I have a maid to do such things, you know,”Alice said.
“Well, the war is over. After selling half my commission, I have been pondering a career change. What do you think, would I make a proper lady’s maid?”
Alice could not help but laugh, despite how terrible she felt inside.
“Sir, if I was hiring a lady’s maid and you walked through my door, I do believe I would box your ears on the spot.”
His voice lowered, rumbling deep in his chest playfully.
“Oh, I would quite like to see that.”
The way he spoke sent a shock down her nerves, and her breath quickened more than it had during the daring rescue. She cleared her throat, unsure how to reply to something so brazenly flirtatious.
“Now turn toward me,” Victor said, and she did.
But all the flirtation was gone, and he gave her what seemed like a judgmental look. His fingers brushed her cheek, and he suddenly went still as stone, his touch ghosting over where her mother had slapped her. His nostrils flared, rage flickering across his features before he shook his head as if to clear it. Then, with forced casualness, he licked his thumb and rubbed it against her cheek, like a mother cleaning up her child. She made a disgusted face, working her nose.
“Urgh!”
“Please,” he said, rolling his eyes, “You were willing to spill your innards across the lane only moments ago, and now you are cringing at a bit of spit shine?”
Alice sucked in a sharp breath, her heart nearly stopping. He knew. Of course he knew—he had seen right through her actions on the road. The darkness she carried inside, the desperate thoughts that had driven her to stand before that carriage ... her deepest shame laid bare before him. She felt naked—exposed in a way that had nothing to do with impropriety.
Victor let out a long sigh, then moved onto her hair, plucking sticks from it.
“Between us,” he said, his voice becoming softer. “There was a man in my regiment, and one day, near the end of the war, he received the most terrible news from home. His family had died suddenly. Tragic, really.”
She tensed as he spoke, confused by this sudden shift in conversation. Yet something in his tone made her stay silent, as though he were revealing an ancient secret.
“And when he came back after our victory at Waterloo, well ... ‘twasn’t pretty. He was belligerent, unable to cope with the loss. One night, a group of our old military crew were out at a pub, being fools as men are wont to do. He was deep in his cups, but instead of getting louder, he went quiet, even when the rest of us were rowdy. But there was no despair on his face. No. He was as content as a cat with cream, as if he was soaking in every moment. Most did not notice when he slipped out into the night. But I did. Had a feeling in the pit of my stomach. Searched for the fool, thought he’d slipped away from me, then I finally found him.” Victor took a leaf out of her hair, then stopped. Alice glanced at him sidelong, and he was staring listlessly at the leaf, spinning it in his fingers. “He was on a bridge, on the wall, one arm hooked around a lamppost, staring down into the water. I’ll never forget that face as long as I live. He was at peace, as if to step from the bridge and into the icy waters below would be the sweetest gift.”
“What happened?” Alice asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “What did you do?”
“What anyone would do. I hauled him to the ground, dusted him off.” Victor brushed some dirt off her sleeve. “And then I got him back home in one piece.”
“Did he ... did he ever get better?”
Victor gave her a long look, then glanced at the ground.
“It took some plodding along with him. Day by day. Hour by hour. Moment by moment. But eventually, this man’s cups were not as deep, and his pain—not too cutting. He stopped visiting the bridge at midnight, dangling his life over the water whilst the city slept. He survived, but I cannot tell you he lives a charmed life. Only that he lives one.”
Alice let out a breath she had not realized she was holding, feeling the prick of tears in the corners of her vision. It took several moments to fight them down.
“That is quite the story, sir,” she said, her voice tight. “But I do not know how it is relevant to my current situation.”
That smile crept back onto his face, and he faced her fully, then took a lock of her hair, tucking it gently behind her ear.
“Why, Lady Rose,” he murmured. “I believe you have misunderstood me, as I was only attempting to fill the air.”
But that knowing look he gave her—in that moment, they both understood exactly what he had done, and why he had told that story. She should have felt poorly, for having to sit through what amounted to a backhanded lecture. But it did not feel that way. It felt as though he had sensed the darkness living in Alice’s heart, feeding off her pain, seen it and then reacted not with cruelty, but kindness—in his own insufferable way.
“Oh, I forgot,” he said, then reached into his jacket pocket and revealed the rose pin she had thrown to the ground earlier. He dusted it off, a few of the petals now slightly bent on one side, and then leaned forward to pin it to her. She could feel his breath on her skin, reacting to his warm presence. And while she had come close to the void, she did not feel any heavier in his presence, as though the darkness in her heart relaxed around him.
He finished pinning it. “There,” he said, placing his hands on his hips. “Not too bad, if I say so myself.”
“I will have to take your word for it,” she replied flatly.
“Come,” he said, offering his arm with an exaggerated flourish. “Help me track down my horse, and perhaps we can make it back to Fairfax Hall before my dreadful riding skills become the subject of tomorrow’s gossip.”