Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Hurrying upstairs, Alice was grateful for the sanctuary her bedchamber provided. She threw herself onto the bed and began to cry, wishing desperately that Duchess was there to offer her usual aloof but comforting presence.
Just thinking about her beloved cat brought Alice a measure of comfort, and she felt her racing heart begin to slow.
How could she have been so foolish? What if someone had seen her and Anthony alone in the garden in such a passionate embrace?
The taste of his kiss still lingered on her lips.
She tried to ignore the treacherous little voice in her head that whispered that if they had been discovered, Anthony would have been forced to marry her, and she would have everything she truly wanted.
But she would not have him if he did not want her in return.
Part of him must desire her, for they had now kissed twice and he had certainly seemed to enjoy it, yet he had made it very clear that he was not able to offer her marriage.
She was a complete idiot to have fallen for his attentions.
Taking her riding and then offering to help her with her dancing, he had been wooing her so that he could seduce her under the pretence of helping her find a husband.
And she could scarcely believe he had stooped so low as to send Sir Marcus in the wrong direction before stealing outside to kiss her himself.
And like the fool she was, she had kissed him back with equal fervour.
What was she going to do? How was she going to face Anthony again after that?
Would she just go down to breakfast tomorrow and pretend nothing had happened between them?
No. She simply would not be able to. It was not possible for her to stay here now.
She just could not. But where could she go?
Her family’s estate was too close and her brother was Anthony’s best friend.
She would come into contact with him again almost immediately unless she explained to Henry what had happened.
He would be even more furious with Anthony and she knew how close they were, like brothers, she could not bear the idea of them falling out because of her. Henry would be so hurt.
What was she going to do? How could she possibly face him again?
She could not simply go down to breakfast tomorrow and pretend nothing had happened.
No, it was impossible. She could not remain here.
But where should she go? Her family’s estate was too close, and her brother was Anthony’s dearest friend.
She would encounter him almost immediately unless she explained everything to Henry.
She dreaded to think what her brother would say if he discovered the situation she’d put herself in.
He would be even more furious with Anthony, and the thought of damaging their brotherly bond because of her behaviour was unbearable.
Her only real option was to return to London.
Though Aunt Jane would wish to leave the capital once the Season ended to visit her daughters around the country.
That left marriage as her quickest solution, and sooner than she had originally planned.
Yet who knew how long it would take to find a new suitor?
The thought of beginning the endless round of balls, morning calls, and suppers once more filled her with exhaustion.
No. Sir Marcus was a good man, a kind man, and he liked her.
She would have to hope he had not taken offence at her sudden disappearance.
She would write him a letter of apology, explaining how much she had looked forward to speaking with him privately.
But first, she must leave this house. She could not possibly spend another day here with Anthony so close by.
Her cheeks burned and her heart raced again as vivid memories of what happened in the gardens flooded her mind.
How much further might their passion have carried them if he had not called her by that childish nickname?
She supposed she should be grateful he had.
A soft knock sounded at the door and Alice’s heart sank. Please let it not be Anthony. She was not composed enough to face him, nor could she trust herself if he entered her bedchamber and . . .
“Alice, my dear, it is Aunt Jane. I wished only to check whether you are quite well,” came a gentle voice from the other side of the door.
“Come in,” called Alice, sitting up and quickly wiping her eyes. She did not wish to see anyone, but she could hardly shout through the door at her aunt.
“Hello, darling,” said Aunt Jane as she entered, her face etched with concern. “How are you feeling now?”
“A little better, thank you,” replied Alice. She turned to face her aunt, knowing it would look suspicious if she hid her tear-stained cheeks.
“Oh, Alice. Whatever is the matter?”
Alice opened her mouth to say she was fine, but instead dissolved into fresh tears. Her aunt hurried over and wrapped her in a warm embrace.
“I want to go back to London,” Alice managed between sobs. “I cannot stay here.”
“Of course,” Aunt Jane said immediately. “But what has happened? Is it Sir Marcus? Was he improper in some way?”
“No, no!” Alice exclaimed. “He has done nothing untoward. In fact, I was just about to write him a note apologising for my sudden departure.”
"I saw Lord Tonbridge leaving the ballroom soon after you did . . . " her aunt said carefully.
Alice hung her head. She was so ashamed of her behaviour. She had been wanton, losing all control over herself.
“Did Lord Tonbridge . . . ?”
“Lord Tonbridge did nothing wrong,” Alice said quietly. She had kissed him as eagerly as he had kissed her, and her aunt would feel obliged to tell Henry if she suspected anything untoward.
“Right,” said her aunt kindly. “Well, there is no need to discuss it now. I shall have the carriage ready first thing in the morning. We can stop for breakfast somewhere on the way.”
"Thank you," Alice whispered.
“It is quite all right, my dear. Get some sleep now. Everything will seem better in the morning.” Aunt Jane kissed her niece gently on the forehead and left her to rest.
Anthony sat on the garden bench and buried his head in his hands.
He was disgusted with himself. How could he have behaved so shamefully?
After his best friend had trusted him to protect his sister .
. . he simply had not been able to resist her.
She had looked so beautiful, and they had been alone.
Thank goodness Alice had possessed the good sense to stop them, for he was not certain he would have been able to.
He had taken advantage of her, plain and simple. He could not marry her, yet he had kissed her anyway, for the second time. Worse still, his actions had probably ruined her chances with Sir Marcus.
He could not help feeling a guilty surge of satisfaction at that thought, even as self-loathing washed over him.
Seeing Sir Marcus court Alice had been torture.
But he knew how much marriage meant to her, and he did not wish to rob her of happiness.
Should he speak to Sir Marcus? No, that would only make matters worse.
The best course was to withdraw entirely from helping her.
The mere thought of her with another man made his blood boil.
He had been ridiculous to offer assistance in the first place.
Removing himself and going as far away as possible from Alice Fairfax and everything associated with her was the only way forward to him. He could go abroad, leave his estate manager in charge, maybe even bring in some tenants for the house.
Yet that would mean seeing less of Charlie, and Henry continued to need his help with the estate finances.
His best friend's estate was still in such a precarious situation.
Though it would not be if Henry would just swallow his pride and accept the financial help Anthony had offered so many times . . .
One thing was for sure, he needed to hide away from Alice for a while. Of course, he also had to apologise, but doing so in person would not be a good idea.
He stayed outside until the rain that started finally drove him in. He felt wretched. Not only was he an absolute beast for the way he had treated Alice, but now he was being a dreadful host.
He trudged back into the house hoping the dancing was almost over and he could be alone again as soon as possible.
True to her word, Aunt Jane had the carriage ready early the next morning.
Alice’s skin was blotchy and her eyes red from a sleepless night spent crying.
Seeing her mistress’ distress, Beth made no complaint about the sudden departure.
She packed their belongings swiftly after ensuring Alice’s note was delivered to Sir Marcus.
In it, Alice had apologised for disappearing so abruptly and explained that she had been taken unwell and forced to return to London.
She hoped she would see him there upon his return.
She prayed the events of the previous evening had not destroyed her chances entirely.
Alice was so exhausted that she slept for nearly the entire journey back to London, waking only when they stopped at an inn for breakfast. She had little appetite but managed some coffee before they continued.
Duchess appeared the moment the carriage drew up outside Aunt Jane’s townhouse, as if sensing her mistress needed comfort. Alice scooped the cat into her arms, and Duchess nuzzled into her neck with a contented purr.
"Do you mind if I go up to my room to rest some more?" Alice asked her aunt.
“Of course not,” replied Aunt Jane. “I shall have a tray sent up for luncheon. Rest as long as you need, my dear.”