20. Chapter 20
CHAPTER 20
T he next few days passed in a blur of carefully orchestrated activities. While mornings and evenings featured structured entertainments, the afternoons offered more freedom to explore the estate grounds. Elias took Alice horseback riding, patiently teaching her the basics despite her obvious inexperience. She could only compare it to her frantic ride with Victor after her rescue, but Elias was a gentle instructor, and she caught on quickly enough to earn his genuine praise.
Another afternoon found them touring the house with Lord and Lady Fairfax and Mrs. Montrose as they viewed the family’s impressive art collection. While many paintings depicted still lifes of flowers, others showed family members or grand mythological scenes. Elias always offered his arm as they walked, making clever observations that drew laughter from the entire party. Alice studied him during these moments, noting how his strong features caught the light, how his perfect manners and effortless charm seemed to win over everyone around him.
As she spent more time in his company, felt his touch, and shared in pleasant conversation, the emptiness she’d initially felt in his presence grew warmer. It wasn’t an all-consuming fire, but perhaps it was enough to warm her hands on a chilly night. Sometimes, she told herself, that had to be enough.
One particularly fine morning found them taking breakfast tea on one of Fairfax Hall’s many terraces. Climbing roses wound their way up ornate stone pillars, their blooms cascading over the iron latticework overhead, creating a natural canopy above the crisp white tablecloth. Steam rose from the fine china teapot as Mrs. Montrose settled into her chair, her fingers already twitching with barely contained enthusiasm to begin her conversation with the duke.
The sound of boot heels clicking sharply against marble echoed through the space. Alice turned toward the sound to find Captain Lacey at the terrace doorway. He stood perfectly still, one eyebrow arched impossibly high as his gaze swept over their gathering. The corners of his mouth turned downward, deepening the lines around his eyes. The peaceful morning air seemed to chill several degrees as he surveyed them, his fingers drumming once against the doorframe before he stepped forward into their sanctuary.
Mrs. Montrose went rigid in her seat, her teacup frozen halfway to her lips. The captain had made no secret of his disdain for her, having publicly dressed her down for abandoning Alice on the road. His accusations about Mrs. Montrose still burned in Alice’s memory, and the way his eyes fixed on her mother now held no hint of remorse.
“Ah, Lacey!” Elias rose with obvious pleasure, either oblivious to or choosing to ignore the sudden tension. “Perfect timing. Will you join us for tea?”
Victor’s gaze swept the terrace, lingering briefly on Alice before returning to Mrs. Montrose with predatory intensity.
“Your Grace is too kind.”
An uncomfortable silence fell as Victor took his seat directly across from Alice. She could practically feel the fury radiating from him, matching the enraged expression on her mother’s face. The very air seemed to crackle with hostility.
Elias cleared his throat, his usual easy manner somewhat strained.
“Captain Lacey, perhaps you have something you wish to say to Mrs. Montrose?”
Victor’s jaw worked as though he were chewing glass. His hand tightened around the arm of his chair until his knuckles showed white. Finally, through gritted teeth and with the falsest smile Alice had ever witnessed, he spoke.
“Mrs. Montrose.” Victor’s words emerged clipped and precise. “I must ... apologize for my unseemly behavior. It was unbecoming of an officer and a gentleman to speak so forcefully about matters that should remain private.”
The careful emphasis he placed on certain words made it clear the apology was anything but sincere. Alice watched her mother’s fingers tighten around her teacup until she feared it might shatter. After several tense moments and a pointed look from Elias, Mrs. Montrose managed a curt nod.
“Your apology is accepted, Captain Lacey.” The words seemed to physically pain her.
“Excellent!” Elias beamed, though something in his expression suggested he wasn’t entirely convinced by the exchange. “Now then, shall we begin? I believe Mrs. Montrose had just asked about my family.”
A footman appeared to serve Victor, who accepted his tea with mechanical politeness. As her mother launched into her questions about Elias’s sisters, Alice felt something brush against her leg beneath the table. She stifled a gasp, glancing up to find Victor watching her with dangerous intensity. His eyes flicked meaningfully to her plate, then back to her face.
She recognized this game now—his particular way of stealing food from her plate. Holding in a sigh, Alice let her hand hover over the various offerings. The cucumber sandwich earned a slight shake of his head. The melon received similar disapproval. When her fingers paused above a sugar-dusted biscuit, his eyebrows rose in obvious interest. The man was an unabashed sweet tooth.
Without breaking from her perfect posture or missing a beat in the conversation, she slipped the sweet onto his plate. Then, feeling rather daring, she gave him a swift kick beneath the table—perhaps harder than intended.
Victor let out a strangled yelp that drew everyone’s attention. He coughed violently, pounding his chest with one fist as Elias half-rose in concern.
“Wrong pipe,” he managed between coughs, his face having gone a deep shade of red. The duke lowered himself back to his seat, brow furrowed.
Mrs. Montrose’s lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval before she turned back to Elias, her voice growing warm with enthusiasm.
“As I was saying, Your Grace—your sisters all being married with children—you must be eager to start a family of your own. Alice comes from excellent stock, you know.”
“Mother!” Alice protested, mortified. She risked a glance at Victor, whose expression had grown suddenly distant.
“Excellent stock indeed!” Mrs. Montrose continued, undeterred. “And Alice has always wished for a large family.”
Elias shifted slightly in his chair, though his smile remained perfectly pleasant.
“Children are certainly a blessing. My sister Elizabeth only just gave birth to the most delightful twins?—”
“Oh, twins!” Mrs. Montrose clasped her hands together. “How fortunate you mention that. Alice’s grandmother bore twins twice. It runs in the family, you see.”
Alice stared into her teacup, wishing she could disappear into its depths.
“Mama, surely His Grace does not wish to discuss?—”
“And Alice has such a gentle disposition!” Mrs. Montrose gestured toward Alice as though she were displaying prize livestock. “A most valuable virtue in managing a household.”
“Indeed, I must concede that point,” Elias managed.
“One must think of these things,” Mrs. Montrose pressed on. “A duke requires heirs, after all. And Alice has such wide hips—excellent for bearing sons.”
Alice felt her cheeks burning as she glanced up at Elias, who tugged at his cravat nervously. She could hardly bear to look at anyone, but she could not help noticing how Victor’s knuckles had gone white where he gripped his teacup.
Victor cleared his throat, before his drawling voice cut through the air.
“I find childbearing to be a rather dull topic of conversation. Wouldn’t you say, Your Grace?”
Alice watched in fascination as something passed between Victor and Elias—some silent communication that made the duke pale. He fumbled with his words, his usual poise momentarily deserting him before he smoothly redirected the conversation.
“I, erm … quite. Mrs. Montrose, might you tell me more about your village life? Where did Alice spend her childhood? I confess I know little of the area.”
As her mother launched into details about their modest country existence, describing gardens that could hardly compare to Fairfax Hall’s splendor, Alice noticed Victor had grown unusually quiet. His elbow rested on the table—a shocking breach of manners—with his hand partially covering his mouth as he stared into the distance. Something in his expression made her chest tighten. She had never seen him look so lost before, as though his mind had wandered somewhere far beyond their pleasant morning tea.
Without thinking, she stretched her foot beneath the table, tapping his boot playfully. The contact jolted him from whatever strange mood had claimed him, his attention snapping to her face. She offered him a questioning smile, curious what thoughts could have drawn him into such obvious distraction.
The change in him was immediate and striking. Warmth crept into his expression, an answering smile growing beneath his partially hidden mouth. Whatever had troubled him moments ago vanished completely as their eyes met across the table. His foot found hers again, returning the gentle tap, but then stayed pressed against her. The contact sent warmth spreading through her entire body, catching her breath in her throat.
“Alice?” Her mother’s sharp voice cut through the moment. “His Grace asked you a question.”
“I beg your pardon?” Alice turned to find Elias watching her with an odd expression. She wondered if he had noticed her silent conversation with Victor.
“I merely wondered if you shared your mother’s love of decorating,” he said carefully.
“Erm …”
Before she could respond, a servant appeared to refresh their tea. Victor withdrew his foot, leaving Alice feeling strangely bereft. As cups were filled and plates rearranged, she found her attention drawn repeatedly to his hands—the way they moved with precise control, how his fingers curled around the delicate china with surprising gentleness. She wondered at the contradiction of him—how a man could be simultaneously so harsh and so careful.
The conversation drifted to safer topics, but something had shifted in the air between them. Each time their eyes met, that same spark of curiosity passed between them. She had so many questions about him, about what lay beneath that mask he seemed to don.
When the tea finally concluded, Elias rose to escort Mrs. Montrose inside, ever the gentleman. Alice reached for her shawl, but Victor was quicker. He stood with fluid grace, gathering the fabric in his hands.
“Allow me,” he said, his voice low enough that only she could hear.
Alice’s breath caught as he stepped behind her. Time seemed to slow as he draped the shawl across her shoulders, his fingers deliberately brushing against the bare skin at the nape of her neck as he adjusted the fabric. The touch lasted barely a moment, yet heat bloomed wherever his skin met hers. When she turned to thank him, the intensity in his gaze made her heart stop entirely.
Then he was gone, striding away across the terrace, his scarlet coat a bright flame against the morning light. Alice pressed her hand to her chest, trying to steady her racing pulse. She had thought tea would be another bid to win His Grace’s favor, yet somehow it had become something else completely.
“Miss Montrose?” Elias called from the doorway. “Shall we join the others?”
She gathered herself, smoothing her skirts before turning to follow. But she could still feel the phantom warmth of Victor’s fingers against her neck, like a brand against her skin.
And that feeling, she decided firmly, was something best forgotten entirely.