Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
“What do you think of the estate?” Marco asked Alice as they walked around the front of the house to the stables.
Mr. Alegria had been quite right; his small country estate was nothing compared to the grandeur of Fitzroy Hall or their townhouse.
Still, Alice felt much more comfortable in it for that reason.
“It is very fair. I look forward to this lake you spoke of,” she said, falling into easy step beside him.
“I do hope it lives up to your expectations.” Mr. Alegria grinned playfully. Alice found that she looked forward to these sly grins, they made her stomach flip happily.
“Well, I am expecting a magic dell of some kind. Mayhap even a fairy circle.” Alice teased him.
“Goodness, I suppose I could endeavor to locate some fey folk for your entertainment,” he chuckled. “So what is our wager to be then, Miss Fitzroy?”
Alice was excited by the prospect of a game. But found herself imagining that there was not much Mr. Alegria could do to make a day in his company unenjoyable. He was far too engaging.
“If you manage to entertain me, then I believe I shall throw myself in the lake,” she said, grinning when she saw his frown of mock consternation.
“Your opinion of my abilities is so low that you would drown yourself?” he asked, his voice pretending to be stern. Alice fought the instinct to smirk with repressed laughter.
“I do not hold high expectations. I have not yet met a gentleman who could live up to his boasting. Besides, I can swim very well,” she said glibly and saw him nod, biting his lip as he hid his own smirk.
“Well, then I shall be the first, Miss Fitzroy. And I do so like to be first,” he said. The flirtatious twinkle in his eye was arresting. He gestured to the horses standing ready outside the stable. “What do you think of my Dido? She is a Palomino and is considered quite a beauty."
"She is exquisite," Alice gushed. She reached out to stroke the stunning mare's cheek.
The horse's golden coat gleamed in the sunlight, giving her an otherworldly quality.
She nudged Alice's gloved hand and softly huffed against her palm.
Beth was standing to the side as the obligatory chaperone, but she looked at the horse as if it were a spider.
Seeing this, Alice grinned and turned back to Marco.
"However, I do not think I can ride her.
As Beth is not an experienced rider, I fear we will have to walk instead. "
"Perhaps your maid would prefer to have tea in the kitchen with my housekeeper?" Mr. Alegria suggested, reaching his hand out to stroke Dido's silky white mane.
“And leave the two of us entirely alone?” Alice queried. Her heart thundered at the notion, but she showed none of her excitement; she simply raised her eyebrows. “That is indeed unorthodox, if not outright scandalous.”
“Not truly so scandalous. We would simply be two friends riding in the open air where anyone could see us.
What could possibly happen that would be so untoward?
" Mr. Alegria drawled slowly. His eyes were full of mischief that Alice could not help being drawn to.
She took in his forest green riding jacket as he stood there, daring her to contradict him.
The coat brought out the color of his eyes and was perfectly tailored to his muscular form, and she wondered just what it would be like to misbehave with him.
"That is if we are truly friends," he added.
Alice looked at Beth and noticed her maid was looking between the two of them with a significantly triumphant expression on her face.
Alice groaned inwardly, for surely Beth would tease her for this flirtatious banter later.
Alice gave her a stern look which only made Beth grin even brighter and turned back to Mr. Alegria.
“I suppose we are friends for the purpose of this visit, at least,” she said, turning to the horse. “It is not as if I have a father to scold me, and we have already established that I care nothing for what the ton has to say.”
“You seem to quite enjoy the notoriety,” Mr. Alegria said.
In a moment, he was behind her, one hand on her riding boot and the other on her back, helping her mount.
Just as they had in the dance the night before, Alice felt his hands' warmth as if it was on her bare flesh.
She tried not to flush. “It seems to suit you.”
“It suits me because it is forced to suit me, Mr. Alegria,” she said tartly. Her tone was perhaps sharper than she intended as she tried to cover how flustered she felt at his touch. He did not look even mildly perturbed as he tightened her stirrup strap and smiled at her.
“Marco,” he said jovially. “If we are to be friends, then you will call me by my given name, and that is Marco. And I shall, of course, call you Alice.”
Alice gaped down at him. He had not asked permission; he had simply commanded her as if it was inevitable.
Part of her wanted to snap back at his impertinence, but another part of her was immensely enjoying his ease of manner.
He had not begged for the honor of using her name like other sentimental suitors; he had simply presumed that she would give it.
Almost as if they were truly friends. The notion was at once thrilling and terrifying.
Alice just nodded in response, not trusting her words at the moment, and averted her eyes.
Marco took a moment to mount his sleek Cleveland Bay horse and turned to have a word with the grooms standing nearby.
Alice took the opportunity to send Beth back to the house for tea with the housekeeper.
Marco thought he saw the maid wink at Miss Fitzroy when he turned back to them but could not be sure. "Shall we ride, then?"
She nodded, and they set off towards the lake, the horses tossing their heads and moving in happy trots. Marco set a relatively slow pace so they could naturally fall into a conversation as they rode.
“What did you mean when you indicated that notoriety was something forced to suit you?” Marco asked. His voice held no malice or ill intent, only curiosity. Alice gave him a long glance and then spoke honestly, her words brittle.
“I am the illegitimate child of a lady’s maid and a duke, born while he was married to his first duchess. Notoriety naturally follows me wherever I go.”
“So you have chosen to embrace it,” Marco nodded in approval, ducking his head as they rode through a small orchard.
“What choice do I have?” Alice laughed bitterly; her words filled with irritation. “I must be stronger than the whispers, or they shall consume me, and I'll fade away to nothing but a dowry and promised title."
“You are so much more than a dowry and title, Alice,” Marco said softly.
Alice felt her heart flutter, but she tamped down the feeling and turned away from him with a snort.
Words, after all, were easy. She had learned quickly that gentlemen uttered platitudes like they downed their drinks; carelessly and excessively.
And they were, more often than not, liars.
She thought Marco was genuine but did not wish to let her guard down lest she was mistaken.
No matter how pretty his words, she would reserve judgment.
“That is quite easy for you to say. You are a man.
You are judged on your own merits and can build your reputation with hard work and successful endeavors.
Women are held to impossible standards, and the slightest deviation from the expected course has disastrous consequences that cannot be easily overcome," Alice said scornfully.
She had voiced her discontent with the ways of society before.
At this point, most gentlemen began to frown and took offense on behalf of their sex.
They would then bore her with the hardships of a being gentleman that a lady could not possibly understand, with her inferior mind and delicate sensibilities.
Yet Marco did not frown. He nodded sagely and held up the branch of an apple tree so she could move safely underneath it.
“That may be true, but you forget that I am also an Italian man of common birth in an English city, which comes with its own prejudices and challenges,” Marco said quietly.
“It is not the same as the plight of women, of course, but assumptions are made, and aspersions cast just because of my nationality. "
It was a fair point, yet the way Marco spoke did not make her feel rebuked. Instead, it made her feel like they were connecting on a deeper level. She relished the possibility of genuine and stimulating discourse.
“Yet your character is not wholly fixed in their minds. You can work to change their perceptions,” Alice said earnestly.
“And even if you are unsuccessful, you may travel to anywhere in the world you chose and begin again.
A lady cannot. Once her reputation is tarnished, it can never be regained, and she rarely has the luxury of leaving. "
“That is indeed true,” Marco said, still not showing any indication that he was disquieted by her forthright manner or opinions. “However, you are an heiress of significant wealth. You could leave this place if you truly desired.”
“I had assumed you were clever, Marco,” she looked at him with a sad smile.
She knew that she should keep the truth of her situation to herself, but she found herself wanting to be honest with him.
“The money is not mine to do with as I please. It is tethered to a dowry that is contingent upon my marriage.”
“So if you fail to make a match…” Marco said slowly.
“Then I shall be bound to my father’s estate until my last breath,” she said bitterly and gave him a taut smile. Marco looked at her thoughtfully as they passed through the orchard. Alice noticed some blossoms had fallen onto his hat and tried not to find it endearing.
“You are bound,” he said softly. “That is a significant word choice, I think.”