Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Alice stared at the ring on her finger as she sat in the dimly lit carriage on the way home, Marco at her side. She was awed that he had chosen such a unique and lovely stone for her to match her eyes. For the first time in her life, she felt cherished by someone other than her mother.
“Did you enjoy our evening, Alice?” Marco asked quietly. Even though Beth kept her eyes trained out the window decorously, Marco would not push the bounds of propriety in her presence. He could not touch Alice as he longed to with the maid seated across from them.
Marco's low words caused Alice to flush when she thought of how he had touched her at the opera.
Of how she had herself invited those touches by brazenly raising her skirts and leaning into him.
She had indeed acted like a wanton but found she could not regret her actions for an instant.
His touch had felt so delicious, so right.
She almost laughed out loud as she thought of the comments her behavior would cause if the haughty society matrons knew of it.
They would say that they expected no better from a bastard.
They would blame her mother for setting such a poor example.
Then they would congratulate themselves that they had her measure all along.
“It was quite lovely, Marco, thank you,” Alice said, stuffing all thoughts of the ton away.
The carriage drew up outside the Fitzroy townhouse, and Alice looked up at the windows of her home, looking for lights and wondering if her mother was still awake.
She worried her bottom lip between her teeth when she remembered how she had quarreled with her before leaving for the opera.
She hoped they might make up, but Alice knew she would not change her stance and didn't imagine that her mother would either.
She only hoped that she might be able to be a little happy for Alice when she learned the news.
Beth had scrambled out of the carriage as soon as it stopped to give the couple a moment or privacy. She waited patiently on the steps at the front door.
“I must go inside,” Alice stated, moving to the door.
“Wait, please,” Marco said, his voice husky. He reached for her hand, his thumb brushing over the ring that fit her so perfectly. “Would you allow me to express my joy that you have accepted my proposal?”
Alice's stomach tightened as his words brought their engagement to the forefront.
She had not really taken a moment to appreciate how momentous this night had been.
Not only did Marco set her flesh afire with the tiniest of touches, but she was now engaged to be married.
A position she had sworn she would never be in.
She couldn't help but feel gleeful hope at the prospect of being Marco's wife.
They seemed to fit so well together. Their connection was palpable even without adding desire into the mix.
She enjoyed his irreverent manners almost as much as his daring touches.
The thought that she would soon be allowed to fully explore those touches within the bounds of marriage was both titillating and terrifying.
“Of course. I, too, am... happy,” Alice whispered, her voice catching in her throat.
The smile that split across Marco’s face was so pure and full of joy that Alice’s heart contracted.
In the back of her mind, she wondered if he was, deep down, like all of the other suitors.
Yet, at that moment, she felt she could not doubt his sincerity, for his desire and happiness were so clearly sketched across his face.
It melted her heart completely. She wondered if this was how it felt to fall in love with someone. The thought intrigued her.
“I will call in the morning, if I may, to speak formally to your mother,” Marco said softly, leaning to press a kiss against her knuckles. Alice tried not to shiver.
“I am sure she would appreciate that,” Alice said, hoping that her mother would respond to the news with a smile on her face.
She would have to see how happy Marco was, how eager he was to be her husband.
Alice was sure it would thaw the woman to their arrangement if she did. "Goodnight, then, Marco.”
“Goodnight, Alice,” Marco smiled softly and opened the door for her to step out. She smiled at Beth, who turned when a footman opened the front door for them. The house was quiet, and she turned to their ever-present butler, who waited to take off Alice's cloak.
“Do you know if my mother is still up?” she asked. The butler shook his head.
“Her Grace has already retired for the evening,” the balding man said.
Alice tried to hide her disappointment. Revealing her betrothal to her mother would have to wait until the morning.
With Beth beside her, Alice climbed the stairs to her bedchamber, not speaking until the door was closed and she began unbuttoning her gown.
“I daresay I will not sleep a week tonight, Beth,” Alice said excitedly.
“But you must try, my lady. It would not do to look fatigued when you speak to your mother in the morning," Beth said as she eased the gown over her mistress's shoulders.
“I cannot stop thinking about him,” Alice admitted. She felt the need to share her thoughts with someone, and Beth had always been such a close friend it seemed natural to reveal her feelings to the maid.
“About Mr. Alegria?” Beth asked, gathering up the gown and setting it down carefully on a chair by the fireplace. Then she turned back and started to untie the ribbons of Alice's stays.
“Yes. Oh, Beth. I fear I might be...” Alice took a shuddering breath as she contemplated what to say. “I think I might be falling just a little bit in love with him.”
Beth paused for a brief moment, then resumed her tugging, but Alice noticed the hesitation.
“Are you sure?” Beth asked carefully, pushing the loosened stays down Alice's hips.
“I don't know. Do you not think him someone I could care for?” Alice asked pointedly. Beth picked the stays up off the floor, placed them atop the discarded gown, guided Alice to her vanity stool, and began plucking the ornaments out of Alice’s hair.
“I did not say that. I am only cautioning you to be careful with your heart,” Beth said softly.
“Why?” Alice asked, frowning. She felt she was always careful with her heart.
She had thus far kept it well hidden. Yet Marco had started to melt the cold ice she had placed at its core.
Still, she felt she was very far from giving her heart away entirely.
No matter that she thought Marco would care for her heart, she could never give it away so quickly, not after all she had experienced in her young life.
“Do you remember how it was with your mother?” Beth asked, setting the ornaments aside and beginning to remove Alice’s pins so her fiery curls tumbled over her shoulders.
“What do you mean?” Alice said, but her stomach contracted at her words. "Speak plainly, please."
“Mr. Alegria is very charming, but so was the Duke when he was younger,” Beth said quietly, lifting a hairbrush and stroking it softly through Alice’s hair.
“He charmed many a lady, your mother included. She was dazzled by him, and she could not take it her heart back once she gave it to him completely.”
“Marco is nothing like my father,” Alice said, but her mouth had gone suddenly dry.
“Perhaps you are correct. You do know him better than I,” Beth said evenly. Alice caught the meaning behind her words.
“You think this engagement came about too quickly. That I do not know him well enough,” she summarized.
Beth brushed Alice’s hair gently, comfortingly, and waited a little while before speaking. Alice could not stop herself from wondering what thoughts were running through her old friend’s mind and had she been a servant and not a lady, whether Beth would have spoken them aloud already.
“That is my fear, my lady. But I will also say that there is no one’s judgment I trust more than yours,” Beth finally said.
Alice nodded faintly, feeling a slight twinge of dread creeping into her heart. She wondered if she might have let her feelings run away from her. Had she been so overcome with desire that it had clouded her judgment? Was she foolish and making herself vulnerable to heartbreak and scandal?
She and Beth lapsed into silence as she braided her hair and slipped her nightgown over her head. Alice climbed into bed with her thoughts churning. As she looked down at her new engagement ring, she couldn’t help but wonder if she had used her mind or body when she decided to marry Marco.
“We have much to talk about,” Giovanni said as soon as Marco stepped into the house.
“I know,” Marco sighed, following Giovanni through to the drawing room.
He was not surprised to see Beatrice sitting there expectantly.
Unlike other couples of the ton, Giovanni and Beatrice kept no secrets from each other.
Beatrice leaned forward when Marco sat down and accepted the whiskey Giovanni offered him.
“Are you truly engaged to Miss Fitzroy?” she asked flatly.
“Of course I am. Did you think it all an elaborate ruse? What would be the purpose of that?” Marco replied acerbically. He eyed the marchioness over the rim of his glass as he took a hearty sip of the caramel-colored liquid within.
“We are simply surprised, Marco,” Giovanni sighed, sitting beside his wife, and letting her take a nip of his drink.
Marco couldn’t help but smile at the easy, familiar interaction between them.
It was not hard to believe that they loved one another dearly.
“It is just that it has come about so quickly.
You haven't even been acquainted for a fortnight.”