27. Chapter 27
CHAPTER 27
A lice was late for the lantern lighting. Her mother had gone ahead without her, allowing her a moment to steady her fraying nerves. She remained in her chambers, a forbidding feeling pressing against her chest as her stomach twisted into knots, nausea threatening her. It reminded her of her first night’s disaster at Fairfax Hall, but she was determined not to repeat such a spectacle—not when everything was finally proceeding according to plan.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror, one hand pressed against her stomach as she fought to catch her breath. Only a few days remained of the celebration, and this one was nearly over. The thought should have brought relief, yet something heavy settled in her chest.
“You can do this,” she whispered to her reflection.
You cannot do anything right.
Her words felt strange on her tongue, hollow somehow. When her stomach seemed to settle, she finally tore herself from the mirror and left her chamber, pink silk trailing after her. The halls stretched empty before her, most guests having already gathered outside. Through the large windows, she could make out the crowd assembling on the grass near the lake. Servants had arranged elaborate paper lanterns in preparation, and a wooden platform had been erected for dancing, complete with musicians tuning their instruments. It promised to be a proper party, yet exhaustion had settled in her bones. She found herself rooted to the spot before the window, utterly drained by the endless celebrations.
“Alice.”
The voice sent an electric current through her blood. She closed her eyes, drawing a steadying breath before turning toward its source. Victor stood at the end of the corridor in disarray. His chestnut hair was disheveled, his jacket misbuttoned, and though the bruises beneath his eyes had faded slightly to yellow, he still looked thoroughly battered. More than that, something in his bearing seemed off—a tension she hadn’t seen in him before.
He started toward her, but she raised a hand to halt his approach.
“Was it not you who said we should not be seen alone together?” She turned to leave, but he crossed the space between them with alarming speed, catching her gloved hand in his bare one.
“Stop!” The word emerged too loudly, and he immediately softened his tone. “Do not go out there. Not just yet. Can you join me for a moment? Only a moment. Then you may go enjoy the rest of your evening.”
There was something deeply wrong in his voice—a desperate edge that gave her pause.
“Is everything alright?”
His expression shifted, and he released her hand, straightening his posture as though donning a mask not unlike her own.
“Everything is perfect. Going swimmingly.” He offered his arm with all the grace he could muster. “Please, join me in a turn.”
Alice studied his offered arm, then his face. They should not do this—being seen together could spark fresh scandal, especially given her frequent appearances with the duke. Yet something about Victor drew her in. As she placed her hand on his arm, it felt like releasing a long-held breath. But while she relaxed into the contact, he seemed to grow more tense, his muscles rigid beneath her touch.
They walked through the halls together, pausing occasionally to gaze through windows at the scene beyond. Servants passed them with sidelong glances that made Alice’s stomach tighten—she didn’t wish for the staff to spread rumors, but there was little she could do about it now. Victor guided her toward a side entrance at the opposite end of the house, where a small twisting path led through a less frequented section of the gardens.
This area held sculptures and a modest herb garden, clearly not the prized portion of the dowager’s estate. Still, the fragrant herbs perfumed the evening air as marble cherubs and satyrs gazed down upon the greenery with frozen expressions.
“I am leaving soon,” Victor finally said.
“Are we not all leaving? At the end of the celebration, that is.”
“Yes, but...” He hesitated, his jaw working. “Let us just say Lady Fairfax is very cross with me after the walk and Violet Cottage. I will give the Dowager Countess my birthday wishes at the celebratory ball and leave the county that night, a few days before the other guests are to depart.”
“Where will you go?”
“Manchester, I think. I have unfinished business there that I must attend to.”
Alice glanced at him, her heart constricting at the resignation in his voice. She understood now—he wasn’t merely leaving, he was being rejected by the family he’d grown close to.
“Well, I wish you the best with your … business?”
His answering smile didn’t reach his eyes. They reached an alcove next to the house where two marble columns flanked a small, bubbling fountain. Victor paused to withdraw a ha’penny from his pocket, tossing it into the water with practiced nonchalance.
“You will make a good wife for him, you know,” he said, his voice warm despite its tightness. “A handsome, happy couple.”
Alice barked out a laugh, then quickly pressed her hand to her mouth, as if to cover the unladylike sound.
“What is so funny?”
“I do believe you are putting the cart before the horse, sir. His Grace has been lovely, indeed, but he has shown no sign of proposing.”
Victor released a soft hum, then shrugged, his expression growing more serious than she’d ever seen it. He went very still beside her, and she gripped his arm tighter, turning to study his face. Their eyes met, and what she saw there made her breath catch—guilt, despair, and something else, something burning beneath the surface that threatened to consume them both.
She remembered their first meeting, how his gaze had cut through her defenses with exacting precision. Then, his eyes lacked all hunger. Now, they raged with it—deep and unending, like staring into an abyss.
She opened her mouth to speak, but managed only a shallow breath before he moved, drawing her against his chest with startling swiftness. Her hands pressed against the wool of his jacket as all air left her lungs. The thought of discovery flashed through her mind, and apparently his as well, for he pulled her deeper into the alcove beside the fountain, his back against the wall.
The position reminded her of their moment beneath the oak tree, when she’d pinned him there in anger. But this was different—this was him coming undone beneath her touch in an entirely new way. They stood frozen in the shadows, breathing each other in. His scent, the one that had haunted her throughout the celebrations, seemed to set her entire being aflame.
She could pull away from him. All it would take was for her to step back, since he had essentially pinned himself against the wall. But even as she pondered it, she knew she could never bring herself to do so.
“I should slap you for this,” she whispered.
“Oh,” he sighed, the words coming from deep in his chest, “please do.”
Before she could form a coherent thought, he ended her torment, bending down to close the gap between them. His lips pressed against hers with desperate intensity, taking what he could. She gasped softly at the novel sensation—never in her life had she been kissed. His hand rose to cup her cheek, rough fingers caressing her skin with surprising gentleness despite the urgency of his touch. Everything about him burned like fire.
But before she could lose herself completely in his lips, he gently pushed her away, still keeping her close.
“Victor,” she breathed, watching emotions war across his features. It was so overwhelming, she had to tear her gaze away.
He brought his fingers beneath her chin, tipping her face to meet his once more.
“You must promise me, here and now. Forget this moment. Forget this selfish act—this selfish man. Strike it from your mind forever, as if it never happened. I shall remember it for the both of us, Lady Rose.”
Her heart trembled in her chest, mind still cloudy from the lingering warmth of his kiss. He seemed to be soaking her in, clutching her like a lifeline, studying every detail, even in her distress.
“But I do not understand,” she whispered, her voice catching. “You told me your heart was closed to love—that I must accept Elias’s proposal. And now ...”
“Nothing has changed. Other than that I have proven myself a scoundrel,” he said, his voice rough with self-loathing.
“Do not say such things,” Alice said, her hands gripping his coat. “Victor, you’ve spent days pushing me toward another man, only to—” She broke off, frustrated. “What am I to make of this?”
Victor’s shoulders tensed. “You are to make nothing of it. That’s precisely what I am telling you.”
“How dare you say that? How can you kiss me like that and then demand I pretend it never happened?”
He slipped away from her, leaving an aching void in the space between them. Running a hand through his already disheveled hair, he attempted to compose himself, though it did little good. When he looked at her again, his eyes still burned with that same desperate intensity.
“There are countless things I regret. But I would make the choice to kiss you again a thousand times. Elias be damned. This entire world be damned. And you should never forgive me for it.”
Alice could only stare at him in shock.
He gave her one last lingering look before a voice called across the garden.
“Miss Montrose?”
Alice blinked, and Victor was gone, his footsteps crunching across the gravel path. She stumbled back from the wall, fingertips pressed to her lips, staring unseeing at the bubbling fountain.
Lady Fairfax appeared at her elbow, though Alice barely registered her presence at first. Despite the flurry of hosting duties that must have demanded her attention, the countess had somehow found time to seek her out.
“My dear, I had the footmen searching all over for you,” she said, her voice as cheerful as ever. “One of the maids mentioned seeing you head this way. You are about to miss the lantern lighting!”
Alice cleared her throat and nodded mutely.
“Whatever brought you all the way out here?” Lady Fairfax asked, glancing around the secluded spot with mild curiosity. “Though I must say, the gardens are lovely at twilight.”
“I-I was ... I suppose admiring parts of the garden I didn't realize existed.” The lie came easily.
“Her vegetable and herb garden is indeed splendid, but nothing like our roses.” Lady Fairfax took her arm. “Come, we are missed.”
They made their way down toward the grass, Alice still reeling from what had transpired. How dare he kiss her like that, then abandon her to sort through the aftermath alone? Yet even as anger flared in her chest, she wished she could track him down and demand he do it again.
He had told her to forget him.
But how could she possibly forget?
The scene before them took her breath away. Hundreds of lanterns dotted the grounds, some floating on the lake’s surface while others hung suspended from tree branches, their soft glow reflecting off the water like fallen stars. Musicians played a gentle tune as couples swayed on the wooden platform. The entire scene seemed lifted from a fairy story, yet Alice felt oddly removed from it all.
Lady Fairfax guided her somewhat impatiently toward the front of the crowd, where a familiar figure stood holding two lanterns.
Elias.
He offered her a warm smile.
“Fashionably late, I see.”
Lady Fairfax dropped into a polite curtsy before stepping back, leaving them alone despite the crowd. The lantern light softened Elias’s handsome features, creating an intimacy that made shame and guilt tear through Alice’s chest. She had just been kissing this man’s closest friend in a shadowy alcove. Could he sense it somehow? Could he see the evidence of Victor’s touch written across her face?
Elias extended one lantern toward her. After a moment’s hesitation, she accepted it. He demonstrated how to release his own lantern, the delicate creation drifting upward to join the others dotting the night sky.
“Your turn,” he murmured near her ear.
She let her lantern go, watching as it floated up to dance beside his. For a moment, the sight genuinely enchanted her, the memory of Victor’s kiss temporarily forgotten as she gazed upward at the glowing display.
A collective gasp from the crowd drew her attention back to earth. Her heart nearly stopped.
Elias had dropped to one knee before her.
“My dearest Miss Montrose,” he began, his voice pitched to carry across the assembled guests. “From the moment we met—or perhaps more accurately, from the moment you decorated my finest evening coat—I knew you were different from any lady I had encountered before.” A ripple of gentle laughter moved through the crowd. “Your grace, your wit, and your genuine spirit have captured my heart completely. Though our first dance ended rather memorably, I find myself hoping you might agree to dance with me for the rest of our lives. Would you do me the extraordinary honor of becoming my wife?”
Alice’s gaze swept across the crowd, taking in familiar faces. Her mother stood weeping happy tears into her handkerchief. The dowager looked supremely satisfied, her matchmaking efforts having paid off. Lady Fairfax clasped her hands together in delight.
She felt as though she had borne false witness to every last one of them, and the darkness within her started to bubble up, the voices on the edges of her mind:
Liar.
Trollop.
Fortune hunter.
And then she saw him. There, at the very back of the crowd, stood a solitary figure in a scarlet coat. Victor’s eyes met hers with such raw desperation that it stole her breath—the same haunted look he’d worn in the gazebo when he’d made her promise. His hands clenched at his sides, as if physically holding himself together.
He gave her a single, pleading nod.
Her heart ached with the memory of her vow to Victor—how could she break it now, when he looked as though the slightest wrong move might shatter him completely? She had promised him, and despite everything that had happened between them, despite her own confused feelings, she could not bear to be the one who finally broke him.
Alice looked back at Elias, aware of the tears that had fallen down her cheeks. In that moment, she understood with perfect clarity that she had been forced onto a stage, expected to play out the most important scene of her life. Something within her rebelled against the performance, but when she met Elias’s earnest grey eyes, she could do nothing but deliver her prescribed lines. She transformed those tears into those of joy, fanning her face as a proper lady should, her smile pristine and bright, though it felt like a blade twisting in her chest.
“Yes!” The word emerged from a tightened throat, but it was enough.
The crowd erupted in cheers as Elias rose to his feet, taking her hands in his with perfect propriety, squeezing them. Well-wishers descended upon them immediately, blocking her view of the spot where Victor had stood. When she finally managed another glimpse in that direction, he had vanished completely.
Just as he’d promised he would.