Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
“Why does the Duke live above stairs, and we live below?” Alice asked, standing beside the cook as they peeled apples. She was eleven years old and had only recently started working with the woman. It was much better than being a scullery maid.
“Why? Well, because he is better than the likes of us,” the cook said bluntly. Alice could always trust the woman to be honest but kind, too. She never commented about Alice’s mother behind her back, which said a lot.
“That seems unfair.”
“Does it? Well, it is the way of the world,” the cook said. “There are masters and servants, and we are servants. That is God’s order.”
“So we can't ever go upstairs?” Alice asked, dropping apple peels in the bucket. Suddenly, the horrible footman who always teased Alice interrupted them, sneaking in to snatch an apple.
“No, we can’t, and those that do, break God’s order, trying to be high and mighty and rise up to their betters. Like your damned mother thinking...”
“Hush you!” The cook slapped his hand away, and Alice looked down, trying to blink away her tears. She did not understand his meaning or why he hated her mother. “Who are you to talk to a little girl that way?”
The footman snorted and wandered away, but the sting of his words lingered and would remain with Alice for many years.
“I wish they wouldn’t talk of mother that way,” she whispered, forcing back her tears.
“I know, lass, but that’s what happens to women who step into the circles of great men,” the cook said, tutting sadly.
“What do you mean?” Alice asked.
“Did you see the wee play they performed on the Green on May Day?” The cook asked after a moment of thought.
“Oh yes, it was great fun.”
“Well, the fine ladies and gentlemen of the land live their lives up on a stage, like the players do.”
“They do?”
“Aye,” the cook nodded firmly, peeling the apples with one fluid, smooth motion. “They are always watched and talked about by other lords and ladies and servants alike. It invites gossip when people step onto that stage without being born to it like your mama has done.”
“What do they say about him?” Alice asked. She had stopped peeling. She couldn’t imagine what anyone could say about fine people with grand houses, carriages, and horses.
“They say all sorts, that he is a bad landlord and a cruel man, that he has been unfair to the Duchess; nothing of his life is private, though,” the cook said.
“So everyone talks about him all the time,” Alice summarized, and the cook nodded approvingly.
“Indeed.”
“It seems like a bad way to live.”
Alice already knew it was a bad way to live. People talked about her all the time. They endlessly speculated about her dead father, about why her mother sullied herself with the Duke when she could have married a respectable servant.
“Oh, aye, what could be worse?” The cook chuckled lightly. “We may live below the stairs, but at least no one ever watches us to just talk about us.”
“That’s good. I don’t want anyone to ever talk about me like that,” Alice said, even though she knew they already did. More than anything, she wanted a day to come when she could stop it from happening.
“Well, little lass, you are the natural-born heir of no one at all,” the cook said with a gentle laugh. “Your pa is long dead, and your Ma is no one special. So I do not think it shall ever be a problem you are made to endure.”
“My lady. Mr. Alegria has arrived.” Beth’s voice and the creak of the door opening pulled Alice out of her reverie.
But when she looked in the mirror, all she could see was that poor, desolate servant girl, so sad and lonely and bitter from the taunts tossed her way.
Then she saw herself as she was that night, radiant in her sumptuous gown, her hair threaded with flowers and pearls at her ears.
She sighed. The cook was wrong. Gossip had turned out to be a problem that Alice had to endure every day.
She turned her thoughts away from the past and looked at her mother, who still sat on the bed.
“Are you ready, Mama?” Alice asked tentatively.
“No, I have decided to stay home,” her mother said, rising stiffly and leaving the room. “Beth can be your chaperone tonight.”
“Mama, please,” Alice protested, but her mother only shook her head, tears spilling down her face.
“I am sorry, Alice, that you think so little of your father and the love he and I shared,” her mother whispered. “I had hoped you could one day have that kind of love, but it seems you are determined not to.”
Alice watched her mother leave, then caught the eye of her maid.
“Well,” she said with a heavy sigh. “I suppose you are coming to opera with me, Beth.”
“Yes, my lady,” Beth said and helped Alice put a silk cape around her shoulders and then pull on her elbow-length black gloves.
Then Alice was ready and quickly descended the staircase.
Marco looked incredibly handsome in a burgundy velvet coat that stretched across his broad shoulders.
He had paired it with a black waistcoat with gold embroidery and tight black pantaloons.
His dark hair was swept away from his forehead, and a blood-red ruby winked from the intricate folds of his white cravat.
He looked magnificent. He was as stunning as any work of art she had ever seen.
Alice paused in the middle of the stairs to gaze at him. He looked up then, and she continued her descent with a pretty blush tinging her cheeks.
“You look flawless, Alice,” Marco said when she reached him. He took her gloved hand and bent over it, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles while he stared at her for a moment too long, until Beth came down the stairs.
“Thank you, Marco,” Alice said, trying not to show how much his compliment and regard affected her. “I hope I can play the part well.”
“And what part would that be?” Marco asked, slipping her hand confidently into the crook of his arm. She enjoyed the fact that he never seemed phased by her caustic remarks.
“Why that of a lady of the ton,” Alice said, giving him a quick smile that he returned so quickly, so beautifully, that Alice felt the butterflies dancing in her belly since she met him take flight.
“Then I am to play the part of the lord?” Marco queried. “What must I do to get into character?”
“First, you could bore me by expounding on your horses or hunting. Then you could perhaps look down on me and sneer when you think I am not looking,” Alice said sarcastically as he helped her climb into the carriage.
Marco only laughed. He then helped Beth in before he slipped in beside Alice.
Her breath caught in her throat when, as the carriage lurched away, he gently took hold of her hand in the shadows as if it was the easiest and most natural thing in the entire world.
“That does sound dull. Perhaps I will not play the part of the lord after all. Perhaps I shall play the part of a dazzled businessman," Marco quipped.
“And how have you been dazzled?” Alice asked.
“Why I have been dazzled by you, of course,” Marco said, smiling at her softly. Alice wasn’t sure what a heart turning over felt like, but she was convinced it was the sensation she was experiencing. “It shall be a most sincere performance, I assure you.”
“We shall see,” Alice said, trying to disguise how much excitement was flooding through her body. “Are you ready to face the ton?”
“I am indeed, Alice,” Marco said. They lapsed into companionable silence the rest of the way to the opera house. Both knew they could only flirt so much in the presence of a maid.
When they arrived, Marco helped her and then Beth climb down from the carriage.
Alice immediately felt her spine stiffen as they followed the crowd into the opera house.
She imagined herself growing a protective layer of scales around her heart, preventing anyone from penetrating her soul.
Walking in on Marco's arm heightened their intense stares and subliminal gossip.
He, on the other hand, appeared completely unaffected, looking around and giving small smiles to people he recognized but never stopping for conversation.
He seemed to sense her discomfort. Instead of questioning her, he directed her through the crowd as quickly as possible.
“We shall go directly to the box,” he said when they reached the stairs. “However, your maid will not be able to join us. There is only space for two.”
Alice was relieved by that; even if there was no sense of privacy as they would be in view of everyone in attendance, she was glad not to have to censor her conversation for Beth's sake.
“I will wait with the other servants, my lady,” Beth said encouragingly.
“Thank you, Beth,” Alice said, letting Marco guide her up the grand stairs. “Are you sure this is not some ploy to get me alone, Marco?”
“You will just have to wait and see,” Marco whispered, and Alice tried to laugh at his cheekiness even as a pulse of desire ran through her spine. Something about the timbre of his voice, tinged as it was with his slight Italian accent, made her toes curl with delight.
“I did not realize you kept a box,” Alice said as the usher opened up the door, and they stepped inside. Marco was right; it was indeed small. But it sat to the left of the stage and gave one of the best views in the house.
“I do not, but both my cousin and uncle do,” Marco said, politely guiding her to her chair. “My cousin is using his tonight, but my uncle was happy to lend us his.”
“How lovely,” Alice said, sitting down and catching the eye of a young girl staring up at her and then looking rapidly away. “Although I cannot shake the feeling that we are being watched by everyone.”
“They are only watching you because you are so beautiful,” Marco said, taking his seat beside her. His words made her spirits soar, but she scoffed, determined to make sure that she did not reveal on her face how much she enjoyed hearing him say such things.