Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Once they returned to the house, all anyone could talk about was the planned dancing that evening. A local pianist had been engaged to provide music so that none of the ladies would feel obliged to play and thereby miss the opportunity to dance. Punch had been requested from the kitchen.
All the ladies retired to their rooms early to prepare, for it had been decided they would dress as though attending one of the most prestigious events of the Season, such as Queen Charlotte’s Ball.
Alice was exceedingly grateful that Aunt Jane had insisted she bring one of her newest ballgowns.
The silk gown in a delicate shade of rose pink, with its high empire waist and delicate ivory lace trim along the neckline and short puffed sleeves, was the most elegant thing she owned.
Beth had dressed her hair with pearls and tiny white flowers, and a simple but beautiful diamond necklace, borrowed once again from her aunt, gleamed at her throat.
She allowed Beth to fuss over her appearance as much as she wished.
This evening felt important. If she could look and behave correctly, she might yet secure her future.
She would not repeat the mistake she had made during the ride.
Sir Marcus appeared rather traditional in his views on how a lady should conduct herself, and she would be mindful of that.
She would not think about how tedious it would be to spend her life with a man who never wished to race across the fields on horseback.
She made sure to descend the stairs a little late, as Aunt Jane had advised, in order to make a proper entrance.
As she stepped into the drawing room where everyone had gathered, her gaze immediately fell upon Anthony.
He was deep in conversation with her brother, but the moment their eyes met, he stopped speaking.
The slight widening of his eyes and the small nod he gave her told Alice that he approved of the effort that had been made on her behalf.
She began to walk towards him, but was intercepted by Sir Marcus, who pressed a glass of punch into her hand and asked her opinion on a large painting at the far end of the room.
It was a rather dull naval battle scene - the very sort of thing Anthony’s late father would have chosen purely for its size and grandeur.
She had paid it little attention before.
Still, it appeared she had been forgiven for her earlier lapse during the ride, for which she was grateful, and so she conversed as pleasantly as she could manage.
They ate a light dinner, supper would be served later to keep up the dancers’ energy, then made their way into the ballroom.
It was the first time Alice had seen it.
She imagined the servants had worked tirelessly, for Anthony had mentioned it was rarely used and the furniture was usually kept under holland covers.
They had transformed the space beautifully.
Though smaller than many London ballrooms, it felt far more welcoming and intimate.
The parquet floor gleamed under the light of several sparkling chandeliers, and the pale blue walls adorned with gilt mirrors reflected the candlelight.
Happy chatter filled the room as the guests filed in.
A grand piano stood proudly in one corner, its mahogany surface polished to a mirror shine.
Alice was no great pianist, but she could not help admiring the instrument and hoped she might have the chance to try it.
Country dancing was the order of the evening.
Ladies and gentlemen lined up opposite one another, and the dancing commenced.
Thankfully, several other dancers were as uncertain of the steps as Alice, so she did not feel overly embarrassed when she made the occasional mistake.
It was far more enjoyable than dancing in the crowded, stuffy London ballrooms. Here, partners changed frequently with no need for dance cards.
The gentlemen took turns sitting out as they slightly outnumbered the ladies, chatting with the chaperones who sat at tables near the refreshments.
There was little time for conversation while dancing, as everyone moved so quickly, but Alice remained acutely aware of Anthony’s presence.
When they paused between sets, Sir Marcus was immediately at her side, claiming her as his partner once more.
Yet it was Anthony who watched her with a hard expression.
She could feel the weight of his stare, which left her dizzy and struggling to concentrate on conversation.
She was grateful when the music began again.
The dances were energetic and chaotic, and Alice soon grew hot and desperate for fresh air.
“Would you care to step outside with me to cool down?” Sir Marcus asked, sensing her discomfort.
Anthony stood just behind him, and Alice was almost certain he had overheard the suggestion, judging by the thunderous look on his face.
His behaviour was becoming most distracting, and he was doing a dreadful job of helping her find a husband.
There was clearly something he disliked about Sir Marcus or the way he was courting her, but unless he explained himself, there was little she could do.
“Certainly,” said Alice, feeling a flutter of nervous anticipation.
Perhaps Sir Marcus wished to speak with her privately and declare his intentions.
Had he spoken with Henry and sought his permission to court her already?
She was still cross with her brother about his comments about her racing earlier, even if he was right, and had not exchanged a word with him him since, but presumably he would have sought her out to tell her if this were the case.
“I shall meet you in a few minutes. I must fix my hair.”
Sir Marcus nodded and lifted her gloved hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss upon it.
Her body had no reaction. Nothing at all.
That will come with time, Alice told herself firmly as she walked over to her aunt to inform her she was going to freshen up.
Aunt Jane glanced between her and Sir Marcus, offering a knowing smile.
“Good luck, my dear,” she whispered. “You must do whatever will make you happy.”
But she could not simply do what would make her happy, Alice thought as she made her way quickly to her room so she could gather herself together and check her hair in a mirror.
Her family’s estate was in a perilous state, and she could not stand by while it was rented out or sold if she had any power to prevent it.
Sir Marcus might not cause the same reactions in her body as Anthony did, but Anthony did not want her and she needed a husband. Sir Marcus seemed kind, they had things in common, and, as mercenary as it sounded to her ears, he was wealthy enough to be able to help her family.
She had never thought she would be the type of woman who married for money, and had always imagined a love match if she had been able to convince someone to ask her to spend her life with him.
Silly, foolish girl. Maybe if she had been more aware of what had been going on around her and less focused on spending as much time in the stables as she could, she might have done something to have helped her father before things got so out of control.
She quickly checked her appearance, drew a light cloak around her shoulders over her gown, and headed back downstairs, slipping out through the patio doors.
Lanterns had been placed along the paths, casting a soft glow.
She could not see Sir Marcus immediately, but assumed he had chosen a discreet yet respectable spot.
Alice stopped. Should she be doing this?
Was she putting herself in a potentially perilous situation?
No, Sir Marcus might not make her heart flutter, at least at the moment, but he was honorable.
She was sure he had arranged for them to meet where they could be seen, just not by the whole crowd of people currently in the ballroom.
The night air was cool and refreshing. Alice pulled her cloak closer and followed the terrace around the house until she reached the bench she remembered.
It seemed the most obvious place for him to be to save her any embarrassment of being caught alone and hidden away with a man, though it was more sheltered than she recalled.
She sat down, tilting her head to admire the stars valiantly peeking through the cloudy sky while she waited.
“Alice?”
She started. “Anthony! What are you doing out here?”
Lord Tonbridge stepped out from the shadows, tall and striking in his dark evening coat and crisp white cravat.
“I followed you. I needed to speak with you,” he replied, his voice low and rough.
Alice glanced about her in case Sir Marcus was also about to appear. It would never do for him to find her alone in the dark with Anthony!
“I heard you agree to meet Sir Marcus outside. I . . . intercepted him and mentioned I had seen you heading towards the front entrance.”
Alice stood at once, anger and frustration surging through her. She moved to walk past him. She had no idea what Anthony was playing at, but she needed to find Sir Marcus before someone discovered them here.
Anthony caught her arm, his touch sending a jolt through her as she spun around to face him, pulling herself from his grasp. “Why would you do that? You must know he is my best chance of making a match! You have seen the attentions he has been paying me,” she said, hotly.
“You cannot marry him, Alice,” he said, his voice low and urgent.
“He has not asked me to marry him.”
“But he will.”
Alice nodded. “I think so. I hope so.”
“He is completely wrong for you.”
“In what way, exactly?” asked Alice.
“In every way! Look what happened when you wanted to allow your horse to stretch her legs with a gallop this morning!”
“Sir Marcus simply chose not to join in.”
“Do you really want a husband who does not wish to join you in the activities you enjoy?”
“I am not sure that his reluctance to gallop once, at a time when it was hardly proper to do so, should condemn him entirely. My own brother, with whom I have raced hundreds of times, did not join us and reprimanded me afterwards, if you recall.”
“That would not usually stop you from doing something,” said Anthony.
“That is true,” admitted Alice with a small smile. She shook her head. “Sir Marcus is kind and a gentleman. His estate is close by and he has the wealth to be able to help my family.”
“But he does not understand you,” countered Anthony.
“I would be very surprised if he did. We have only known each other a matter of days. But he knows me well enough to be aware of when it is sensible to end a discussion with me.”
“What if he is never able to understand you?”
“Do we ever truly understand anyone else? I certainly do not understand you at the moment!”
“I understand everything about you,” Anthony growled, his hands clenched firmly behind his back.
His intensity startled her. She was not accustomed to this passionate, serious side of him, so different from the teasing and jesting she had always known.
There was no laughing their way out of this conversation.
She needed to escape before her own emotions betrayed her and she revealed what she actually felt about him and ruined the fragile friendship they had built in London.
“In that case, I trust you understand that I would like to go back inside and find Sir Marcus to apologise for leaving him standing outside in the middle of the night.”
Using all the resolve in her possession, she turned to leave.
“Please, wait,” said Anthony, his voice breaking. He placed his hand on her arm and electricity shot through her. He gently pivoted her back around to face him.
She refused to meet his eyes. “Anthony, I do not . . . I do not know what you want from me. You have made it very clear that your future cannot be with me. You also said you would help me to find a husband . . . what you are doing now . . . ”
“I . . . ” he began. Their eyes met. His pupils were large, the desire in them shocking Alice. Could he possibly . . . ?
Their mouths came together with desperate urgency, far more frantically than the last time they had kissed.
Their teeth clashed and their tongues entwined as long-suppressed longing finally broke free.
Alice had no time to register her surprise as his arms wrapped around her, pulling her firmly against his hard chest. She arched closer still, lost in the heat of the moment. Her need for him consumed her entirely.
He trailed heated kisses down her neck, his breath warm against her skin. With a low groan, he murmured, “My Little Squirrel,” against her skin.
The endearment jolted her back to reality like a splash of cold water.
What was she doing? Anthony had made it abundantly clear he would not marry her.
How many cautionary tales had she heard of young ladies ruined in moonlit gardens just like this?
She had been right all along to be wary of him.
She had allowed herself to be seduced despite knowing his reputation.
She pushed him away with such force that he staggered backwards, confusion etched across his handsome features. With trembling hands she readjusted her gown, her body still humming with unfulfilled passion.
“I need to find Sir Marcus,” she said, her voice unsteady.
“Let me help you,” Anthony said. He looked stricken.
“No, thank you. I do not think that would be a very good idea,” replied Alice.
Determined to retain what little dignity remained, she walked back toward the house as quickly as she could without running, her head held high. The moment she reached the sanctuary of the entrance hall she released the breath she had been holding.
She hated the thought of leaving Sir Marcus wondering what had become of her, but she was in no fit state to face him. Spotting Anthony’s butler emerging from the ballroom, she asked him to convey her apologies: she had been taken unwell and had retired to bed.