Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“You look beautiful, Alice,” her mother said softly, stepping into Alice’s bedroom.
Alice was in her wedding gown. It was a beautiful cream dress with a blush lace overlay and tiny, embroidered flowers with pearls sewn into their centers.
The cap sleeves and scooped neckline were also embellished with pearls.
Her curls were gathered at the crown of her head, and tendrils cascaded down the nape of her neck.
Her head was adorned with lush pink roses, and her veil cascaded down her back and to the floor, resting against the modest train of her gown.
Marco had said the other day that she looked like a painting, and she hoped he felt the same today.
She examined her reflection in her floor-length mirror. The delicate pink lace brought out a strawberry and cream tone to her skin. She could almost say she glowed. She felt as ready as she ever would be to walk down the aisle to meet the man she loved.
Her mother was wearing a gown in a darker shade of pink with delicate diamond earrings falling from her lobes and her graying auburn hair arranged in a lovely topknot.
As she came up behind her and Alice looked at them both in the mirror, she had no trouble believing that her mother was a duchess or that she herself was a lady.
Perhaps she could finally accept that she had blue blood flowing through her veins.
Could finally accept that this was who she was.
Alice sighed softly as she stroked the front of her dress.
She hoped Marco would like it. She caught her mother’s eye in the mirror and smiled.
Her mother looked at her with a strange expression that Alice couldn’t quite decipher. Then the Duchess looked at Beth, who was quietly adjusting the train of Alice’s gown, and said, "Can you give us a moment, Beth?”
Alice felt a surge of dread. She hoped her mother was not unhappy with her for some reason. She didn’t want anything to mar her wedding day. All she wanted to do was think about Marco and how excited she was to be his wife.
“Is something wrong, Mama?” she asked nervously when Beth had left and closed the door behind her. Her mother looked at her steadily, absentmindedly stroking the ring on her hand the Duke had given her upon their marriage.
“We have not been the greatest of friends recently, have we?” her mother responded as she reached up and adjusted her veil.
Alice felt her stomach flip. She didn't want to talk about their unresolved conflict.
She assumed her mother was concerned because Alice would no longer be just her daughter but also Marco's wife today.
At Alice's request, the couple would be staying at the Fitzroy country estate.
The land and community required care, and Marco readily agreed because it was closer to his factory.
Despite her mother's frequent visits, Alice wondered if the prospect of her daughter leaving home for the first time overwhelmed her.
“I suppose not,” Alice said warily, not sure what she could say to alleviate the tension.
She could not lie and pretend she held her father in high esteem when the opposite was true.
Finding out he was her natural father had done nothing to make Alice love him.
It had, if anything, made her respect him less.
“Mother, if you wish to talk about the Duke...”
“I do not,” her mother said quickly, and Alice thought she saw a flash of fear in her mother’s eyes. “When it comes to your father, all I wish is that you understood that you were dear to him.”
Alice couldn’t respond. She couldn't bring herself to speak of her father now that she knew what he'd done.
He was responsible for a man's death after ordering the burning of Marco's factory.
She could only be thankful that she hadn't discovered the truth about her parentage sooner.
If he had raised her, she feared she would have turned out just like him.
He had been a cruel man who thought those of lower social standing were disposable.
She didn't want to be loved by someone like that.
She couldn't understand how her mother could have loved him so much, even though Alice assumed she kept that aspect of his personality hidden from his mistress.
Alice did not think revealing any of these truths would be a kindness to her mother, though.
It would be cruel. It was better to leave it alone and let her mother love the memory of the man she thought she knew.
“I understand, Mama,” Alice said quietly, offering nothing more. It seemed enough for her mother because she smiled tenderly at her daughter, stroking the soft sleeves of her gown.
“I do not know what happened to make you so upset with Mr. Alegria the other day,” her mother began, keeping her eyes focused on the floor.
Alice’s stomach churned. When she had returned from Hackman’s, she hadn’t been able to control her despair.
She had been weeping, and pushed past her mother and ran to her bedroom, refusing to speak about it.
“It was nothing, Mama, and all is well,” Alice said quickly, hoping to assuage her mother without providing an explanation. She could not tell her mother that Marco had wanted to ruin her to get back at her father.
“Is it?” the Duchess asked, lifting her eyes to meet Alice’s in the mirror, her gaze full of wisdom and sadness. “You are my only daughter, Alice, my only child. The only thing I have left of the love of my life and my only family."
“Mama...” Alice did not want her mother upset on this day. No good could come from discussing the past. Alice was ready to move on and happy to marry Marco.
“I know you do not feel I have the right to ask this, but I must,” her mother continued, her voice speaking over Alice’s protestations. “Are you sure you want to marry this man?”
Alice stared at her mother in the mirror for a moment, her eyes wide.
“You have wanted me to find a match all season,” Alice said in disbelief.
“Yet you question my choice now?” The idea that when she was mere moments away from the altar, her mother should begin to question what she was sure she viewed as a success was odd.
“I think I must,” her mother said firmly. “I have never seen you so upset as you were the other day.”
“But I just told you all was well,” Alice stated. She thought of the pleasure Marco had given her in the garden, trying her best not to blush at the memory.
“Are you sure?” her mother pressed, placing her hands on Alice’s shoulders. “I implored him to be honest with you, and I hope that he was, but I fear the conditions of your marriage will not ensure your happiness.”
"Do not fret so, Mother,” Alice said with a frown. “You know I am the one who has set the conditions for our marriage.”
Her mother stared at her for a long moment, gently brushing imaginary wrinkles away from Alice’s dress.
“That is my concern,” she said quietly, her eyes fixed on Alice’s buttons.
“I fear that in your determination to find a man to agree to your conditions, you have decided to take Mr. Alegria on for the wrong reasons. "
“Why would I do such a thing?” Alice asked in genuine confusion. She had been mostly content to remain unwed, so her mother's fears made no sense.
“So that you may have things your way and could control your future?” Her mother queried tightly, watching her daughter intently. “You have desired nothing but freedom. I fear that if a gentleman offered that, you would accept when no other circumstances were right.”
“You believe that I am settling,” Alice said, the realization dawning on her. “That I am marrying him simply because I want control over my life. You suspect that he is a rogue, don't you?"
“Perhaps,” her mother said with a heavy sigh.
“Well, Mama, that is hardly flattering to either of us,” Alice said tightly, folding her arms across her chest.
“It is not criticism, darling, only a concern,” her mother said, stroking her gloved hands down Alice’s arms. “It concerns me that you do not think yourself worthy of love, of the joys of family and children.
I fear that the choices I made in my life have caused you to view these things with distaste.
What can I do to change your mind, Alice?
How can I show you that love and children would add beauty to your life? "
Alice saw the pain on her mother’s face and knew she needed to tell her the truth, or at least some of it. She sighed heavily and turned away from the mirror. She lowered herself onto the edge of the bed and patted the space beside her.
"Please sit down, Mama,” she said heavily. Her mother looked concerned but gently sat beside her, her hand grasping Alice’s.
“We may not always agree, darling, but I shall always be truthful with you. I shall always support you. You can share your feelings with me.”
“Thank you. You do not need to worry about me,” Alice said carefully. She needed to reassure her mother without revealing Marco’s vendetta against her father or the truth of the physical intimacies she and her betrothed already shared. “Things have changed for me.”
“What do you mean?” her mother asked, her hand holding Alice’s tightly.
Alice could sense how much fear her mother harbored.
She thought of Marco’s words to her in the garden, their intensity, and how they had made her feel so safe and seen and wanted.
He did not care whether the Fitzroy name continued or not. He just cared about her.
“Everything is different. I have been changed in my body and soul,” Alice said frankly.
Her mother sucked in a sharp breath, clenching Alice’s hand tightly. “Alice, my darling, are you… is it possible that you think you might be… that you could be expecting?” the Dowager whispered, her eyes full of fear, and Alice realized what her mother worried about.
“No!” She exclaimed, pulling her hand away.