Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
“Here you are, my lady,” Beth said, walking into Alice’s room with the cup of tea she had requested earlier.
Alice was preoccupied with reading. Since she had taken her place as an heiress, she had tried to improve her education.
It was one of the only parts of her sudden influx of wealth that she actually enjoyed.
She had paid to have a daily tutor, to bring her meager education up to scratch for conversations among the ton.
She did not care if they sneered at the circumstances of her birth, but Alice had always considered herself an intelligent woman.
Indeed, the cook she worked for had always said she had a mind as sharp as a razor.
Now she had the opportunity to use it, and she would.
No one in the ton could say that she had not read the writings of Locke or Herodotus as she could expound upon them with ease.
“Beth, I’ve asked you not to call me that,” Alice sighed, setting down her book containing Plato's writings.
She was meeting with her tutor this afternoon.
He was pleased with her progress and said that her Latin improved daily.
It was French that she seemed to struggle with, but she was determined to master it.
“You are a lady now. I must address you as such,” Beth said stiffly, setting the teacup down at Alice’s elbow.
Alice struggled to get used to having her meals served on the finest China, even after many months.
She always worried she would break it, even though she knew there was no one to chide her if she did.
“We grew up together, Beth,” Alice said impatiently, for it was very true. Below stairs, she had treasured Beth’s acquaintance. “We shared a bed for years. I even nursed you through that fever...”
“Please, my lady, it is not appropriate to speak of such things anymore,” Beth said, still not meeting Alice’s eyes. “You are the Duke’s daughter. Your mother is the Dowager Duchess.”
“My mother took you to the fair when you were eight and bought you a blue ribbon for your hair.”
“Alice! Please stop. You cannot expect me to simply forget that you are an heiress now!” Beth scolded, glaring Alice full in the face, all pretense of servitude replaced with a familiar expression.
It was the one Beth always used when Alice stole all the blankets in the night, and Beth woke up shivering in the cold. “Why are you grinning?”
“Because you used my name,” Alice smirked, taking a sip of her tea.
“Oh, my lady,” Beth sighed, sitting down heavily on the vanity stool, and gazing plaintively at her old friend, who was now her mistress. “What do you want from me?”
There was such weariness in Beth’s face that Alice couldn’t help the sore lump of emotion rising in her throat. Here was a girl she had been as close to as any other; now, money and status had pushed them apart. Alice fought back her tears and stared into her teacup.
“I want my old friend back. You were the only one who did not sneer at me or call me names when we were young,” she said shakily.
“You could have gained favor with the other staff once you knew about my mother and the Duke by taunting me as they did, but you did not. You stayed faithful to our friendship."
Many of the other maids below stairs had been cruel, their comments cutting and sometimes even carrying over to nasty pranks. Some tried to get her in trouble so she might be dismissed, hoping her mother would go with her. Beth had never been like that.
“The Dowager Duchess has always been kind to me,” Beth said simply, then she frowned. “Why do you not call the Duke your father?”
“How could I?” Alice snorted humorlessly. “He did nothing fatherly for my entire life. He waited until his deathbed to acknowledge me and settle a dowry and title upon me that most days feel like a terrible burden.”
Alice half expected Beth to sneer at her, to belittle her for her lack of gratitude, but Beth simply gave her a soft look and then pressed her hand to Alice’s knee comfortingly.
“Well, perhaps it would be less burdensome if you had someone to share your life with, my lady,” she said with an encouraging smile. “Did any eligible gentleman catch your eye at the ball last night?”
“They were all spending their time trying to catch mine for all the wrong reasons,” Alice said flippantly. Beth did not seem deterred; she simply gave Alice a knowing look.
Almost immediately, a vision of Mr. Alegria swum into Alice's mind, which she quickly pushed away. It did no good to think of him since she would never marry, even if he was so very tempting.
“There was someone, I can tell, by that wistful look on your face,” Beth teased, gently pinching Alice’s knee just as she had done when they were girls when Alice had confessed she had an affection for a new footman.
“Wistful indeed! How absurd,” Alice protested, sipping her tea, and trying not to think of Mr. Alegria’s warm smile and enchanting green eyes.
“You are blushing,” Beth giggled, grinning at Alice. “Will you not tell me his name?”
Alice was about to deny the claims immediately when a polite knock sounded on the door. After bidding them enter, one of the servants entered, bowing formally.
“Excuse me, my lady, but the Dowager Duchess has sent me for you. There is a caller who wishes an audience with you.”
Alice frowned. Her mother had made no mention of expecting visitors this morning. She looked at Beth, who shrugged, indicating she had no notion who it could be.
“Who is the caller?” she asked the servant.
“A Mr. Alegria, my lady.”
“Good morning, Miss Fitzroy,” Marco said as she strode into the drawing room.
He rose from where he was seated opposite the Dowager Duchess and bowed formally.
Miss Fitzroy looked lovely in a sea foam green dress with long sleeves and a scooped neckline trimmed in white lace.
It was striking, the material stiffer and richer than the simple muslins most young ladies wore, yet the softer color brought out the creaminess of her skin.
He had to tell himself not to stare at her.
“Good morning, Mr. Alegria. How kind of you to call,” Miss Fitzroy said in a sharp, almost professional tone as she gave him a quick curtsey. “Have you come with another business proposal for me?”
“Nothing so lucrative, Miss Fitzroy,” Marco said. He decided to follow his gut and approach her with complete candor. After all, she had been nothing but candid with him. “I find you charming. I should be honored if you would accompany me to the opera.”
“The opera?” Miss Fitzroy frowned, folding her arms as if irritated by his words. “And you are charmed by me? Or is it perhaps my enormous dowry that is so captivating? I thought you might be an original, but I see I was mistaken.”
“Alice,” the Dowager warned, frowning at her daughter. Marco imagined that she spent much of her time hoping that her daughter would present a more conventional manner to the world, but he could not be more pleased that she did not. He wouldn’t change the feisty girl for anything.
He had not come calling that morning with a particular plan in mind.
He'd been driven there by dreams of Miss Fitzroy that had ended in him waking, sweating and hard, in the depths of the night and being unable to stop himself from wishing for her company.
By dawn, Marco knew he had to make good on his promise to be her suitor.
He did not yet know if he could put aside his revenge plan and pursue Miss Fitzroy with a true heart, but he knew he could not stay away.
“Please do not fret, Your Grace. I did inform Miss Fitzroy that I am not easily offended. She is merely taking me at my word,” Marco said, smiling at her as she glowered at him.
“Well, if a night giggling at arpeggios while I tell you all the salacious secrets of the Italian Opera Company is unoriginal, I am most regretful for my mistake. Might I make amends?”
He saw how Miss Fitzroy’s eyebrows shot up, and a smirk played on her lips. Then he saw her bite her lip and attempt to school her face into a more disinterested expression.
“You may attempt to make amends if you wish,” she said casually, and Marco felt a flush of victory. “I am sure I could not stop you.”
“Would you care to go for a ride?” Marco suggested, gesturing to the sunshine outside. “I have a lovely estate. Though I daresay it is nothing compared to yours, there is a picturesque lake with a pretty waterfall.”
“You think that is something I would enjoy?” Miss Fitzroy challenged, lifting her chin in defiance. Marco could not help but find it utterly adorable. He tried not to grin like a fool. Giovanni would be in a fit of laughter if he could see him now.
“I suppose that you might enjoy anything where you could be out from under the greedy attention of the ton,” Marco said with a knowing smile.
Miss Fitzroy’s face didn’t move, but he thought he caught a flicker of interest in her eye.
Her ability to disguise her true feelings was part of what made her so endearing to him.
She was a challenge, a puzzle that he felt compelled to untangle.
“I can promise you privacy, Miss Fitzroy.”
“I should appreciate at least that you are attempting to engage me in an activity that I might enjoy,” she mused, looking out the window. “I suppose I might enjoy it more than the recitation of French verbs I had planned for this day.”
“Indeed. You might,” Marco dared to tease. “Allow me some victory, Miss Fitzroy. I am determined to give you a perfectly enjoyable day.”
“Really? Would you wager that you can achieve your aim?” she asked, her eyes instantly lighting up. Marco was sure he saw her mother’s shoulders slump as if she found her daughter’s eager competitiveness very tiresome. Marco tried not to smirk.
“I should like that,” he said teasingly. “Come riding with me, and we shall see if I can entertain you.”