Chapter 22 #2
“We promised to wake you if she needed you, which she did not. You clearly needed the rest,” Giovanni said, gesturing to a fresh set of clothes draped across a chair. “We sent for some of your things. Wash and eat. You cannot stay in your stained wedding clothes any longer."
Marco nodded drily and sipped the hot tea the maid had given him before leaving.
It hurt to take off his wedding clothes, knowing he hadn't been married, but he knew Gio was right.
He ate a piece of toast, then quickly washed and dressed before returning to Alice.
The Dowager Duchess sat on the other side of her bed, one hand on top of the bedcovers, tears streaming down her cheeks; she appeared wilted.
Marco sat awkwardly across from her and forced himself to meet her watery gaze.
“I am so sorry she has not woken yet,” he said hoarsely.
“It is very kind of the marquess and marchioness to let her stay here,” the Dowager sniffed tremulously. “We are indebted to them.”
“Nonsense, Alice is to be my wife. They are my family and will be hers too,” Marco said, his voice surprisingly forceful. When he saw the doubt in the Dowager’s face, he faltered. “If she will still have me.”
The Dowager Duchess looked at her daughter with the softest expression and sighed.
“She will,” she said quietly. “She told me on the morning of her wedding day that she loved you. She told me that… you were the only man she could consider starting a family with.”
“She did?” Marco whispered, his stomach entirely in knots.
“Yes.”
Marco reached for Alice’s other hand, swallowing hard, and then words tumbled from his lips without his volition.
“I promised I would never try to change her mind about children, but I would happily have them with her if she did,” his voice drifted off, unable to put into words all of the hope he had felt.
“I think she was beginning to think about it,” her mother whispered in a broken voice. “It is all my fault.”
“How could any of this be your fault?” Marco asked quizzically. The blame, he felt, was squarely at his own door.
“For a long time, I could not protect my daughter as I wanted to. My late husband put his trust in those who did not deserve it.”
“You speak of Hackman,” Marco said flatly. The Dowager Duchess nodded tearfully.
“He was a different man around those he saw as lesser to him. I saw the truth of him in a way my husband never did,” she said quietly. Marco could only imagine what servants, especially female ones, had to endure from Hackman.
“You never told him?” he asked.
“I tried many times,” she shook her head. “He just never believed that a gentleman could act without any honor. I loved him so much that I allowed him to brush aside my fears. I should have pushed him harder to see the truth. None of this would have happened if I did."
Marco could hear the bitterness and sadness in her voice. He could not imagine Alice would ever want her mother to feel so responsible. “Even if all of that is true, you could have never predicted any of this,” he said, hoping to assuage her guilt.
“No, perhaps not, but I did myself and my daughter a great disservice,” the Dowager said firmly, squeezing her daughter’s hand. “I did not trust my own judgment.”
“It seems to me, Your Grace, that your judgment has proven itself to be impeccable,” Marco said, a little more drily than he meant. Still, he was happy at least to see a glimmer of a smile on her lips before it disappeared into a solemn, reflective expression.
“I have always shied away from giving my own opinion. I was very aware of my station in life compared to my husband,” she said quietly. “While that knowledge made me quiet and accommodating, it made my daughter loud and forceful.”
“Yes, she is not short of opinions,” Marco said, looking down at his beloved Alice with a fond chuckle.
“No, she is not, and I have, far too often, made her feel as if that is a detriment to her character. How wrong I have been,” she said forlornly.
“Alice has the courage of her convictions; she has known, where I did not, that there are worse fates than always being silent. That there are consequences in it as well as safety.”
“This situation is not your fault,” Marco said hotly. It was too much for her to bear the burden of this. “Hackman was the one at fault and no other.”
“You are right, of course, and yet it has shown me how my character has been lacking,” she sighed, shaking her head.
“I am a Dowager Duchess now. Why have I not had the courage of my convictions? Why did I not promptly remove him as estate manager since I disliked him so much? It was in my power to do it, so why did I not?”
“I do not know,” Marco confessed, wishing she had done that but not believing it would have stopped Hackman. “Why did you not?”
“Because I did not want to make trouble,” she said scornfully, her eyes flashing dangerously. “How trivial it sounds now!”
“You had a name to protect,” Marco offered, trying at least to mitigate some of the disgust she was directing at herself. She looked at him very fondly but shook her head.
“You do not believe that,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. “You are kind, Mr. Alegria, you truly are, but you and I both know that a name is nothing compared to a child or a future wife.”
Marco swallowed and nodded, looking at his love's hand, at the beautiful ring he had chosen because it matched her eyes.
“You are right,” he whispered. “I marvel at it now, that my life means so much more now she is in it.”
“And so much more grey when you are threatened with losing her,” she whispered, her voice full of pain. Marco recognized that pain. It had been his constant companion for the last few days.
“You shall not lose her, Your Grace,” he said, with an earnestness he tried desperately to believe.
“I rather think, Mr. Alegria, that you shall not either,” she said, smiling softly. “Though it seems as if you fear you might, even when she wakes.”
Marco swallowed hard, afraid of facing his own fears.
“She would have every right to leave me.” His voice was barely audible. “I have brought nothing but trouble to her door.”
“Not wanting trouble can get a person into just that, as you have seen,” she said sharply, her voice as clear as a bell.
“I did not want trouble, so I did nothing to curb Hackman's influence over my husband. I did not want trouble, so I did not sack him when I had the chance. I have told Alice, again and again, to avoid trouble. Not to make too much noise or show too much of her mind, and she has ignored me at every turn.”
“That must have been frustrating,” Marco said with a soft smile. Alice must have been quite the handful to raise if her actions, since being elevated into society, indicated her childhood rebellion.
“It was, and yet how I bless it now, for I know that she is strong enough to endure anything,” she said, her eyes blazing with tears and pride. “I have never been more proud of my troublesome daughter, and I rather think, Mr. Alegria, that you are her perfect match.”
How Marco wished it was true. It felt true in his heart, yet he did not trust himself to hope for it. It would be unbearable to expect Alice to wake and want to fall into his arms, only to realize that she would leave him.
“That will be for Alice to decide,” he said hoarsely. “Ultimately, my decisions led to Hackman’s advances. I would not fault her for blaming me.”
“Then you would do yourself a disservice.” Her voice was very sharp. “Your decisions may have prompted Hackman to act, but they did not force his hand. He alone is responsible for his vile actions.”
“I hope she sees it that way,” Marco whispered, holding the Dowager Duchess’ gaze.
“I think you are about to find out,” she said, looking down at her daughter’s face. Marco’s gaze followed hers, and then, suddenly, he noticed a flickering of Alice's eyelids and held his breath. She moaned softly, her beautiful eyes fluttering open.
“Marco?” she croaked.