Alice allowed Mr. Clavering to choose the direction of their walk. She was thrilled beyond what she would admit to anyone but herself that she was able to escape her house in the company of the only man who filled her thoughts, day and night. They did not speak right away as they walked, her hand tucked in his arm and the warmth of his presence filling her with a sense of peace and joy she had not yet known.
Daisy trailed at a distance, giving them ample space to carry on a private conversation. Alice had always appreciated her maid but was lately realizing her value. Daisy accepted her strange requests, such as packing up some old clothing and tooth powder, without asking any questions. And Alice was sure she was not talking about it below stairs. Now she showed another courtesy by allowing them a degree of privacy.
Alice’s gaze went to Mr. Clavering, then to the blue sky with sunlit clouds. “It is a beautiful day.”
She felt the strength of his arms through his tight-fitting coat, which, oddly, made her feel more weak. His eyes lifted to the sky as well, and when he turned them down to her, she noticed for the first time the gold specks in his brown eyes.
“It is, indeed. And the pleasure of the day is enhanced by good company.”
Alice ducked her head to hide how pleased she was at hearing his comment. She strove for a topic on more firm ground.
“I believe you may safely talk about the matter that concerns us both dearly. I do trust my maid not to reveal anything she might overhear.”
“Well, then.” Mr. Clavering pulled her a hair closer to his side for his disclosure. “They went off without a hitch, from what I could see. Miss Chauncey came running out, wearing what I am sure was her wedding dress. Duck quickly got her into the carriage, and they were off without a soul the wiser. I stayed in the area so I might see when they were missed, and I believe it was a good ten minutes before anyone came out. As the maid would not have been in a position to begin a search, I imagine it was much more time before anyone could attempt to locate them.”
“Do you think people will guess where they have gone?” Alice asked anxiously.
“I don’t see how they could. Duck was not particularly obvious in his attentions after Miss Chauncey was betrothed.” Mr. Clavering had lowered his voice and was taking great care not to say their names in the hearing of Daisy or a chance passerby. “Duck has it all planned out. Unless her family knows what to look for, I believe they are quite safe.”
“Phew.” Alice blew out, then glanced at Mr. Clavering with a smile. She had not realized how much she had been hoping the couple would make it. It was almost as though their break for freedom paralleled her own.
“And you came home with my brother,” she added. “I was never more surprised than to see the two of you together. I believe the sight of him softened my mother enough to let me go out walking with you. It was almost as though you were the one who brought him home at last.”
Mr. Clavering laughed. “Believe me, your mother still had questions for me.”
Alice tilted her head up to look at him and was caught by his profile, another thing she had not had a chance to study at such a close proximity. His strong jaw revealed the firm character one would wish for in a suitor—if one were thinking about such a thing. She almost forgot what she wanted to ask.
Oh yes. “What questions did she have?”
He made his lips prim, but his eyes were twinkling. “She wanted to know what intentions I had toward her daughter.”
“Oh dear.” Alice trained her eyes forward. She had meant to ask more about Gwen and Duck, and she had meant to ask more about her brother and what he and Mr. Clavering were doing together, but the conversation was now veering on a wild path, seemingly with no driver. “What did you tell her?”
Mr. Clavering didn’t speak, and she heard only the chance phrases of couples walking by them and the sound of their own footsteps on the flagway. She puzzled her brows as she mulled over how he possibly could have responded to her mother. The silence grew, and she turned to find his gaze fixed steadily on her.
“I said I would marry you—if you would have me.”
Alice’s feet almost came to a halt of their own accord, but she forced herself to keep walking. Possible answers flitted through her mind, but she could not settle on one. He gave her time, though, and did not speak while she processed her thoughts. At last, she settled on another question. “What did she answer?”
Mr. Clavering needed no time to reply. “It doesn’t matter what she answered. It only matters what you do.”
That silenced Alice again. But as he did not speak, she had to think of something else to say. For once, she wished for a man who would tell her what she should say or do or think—just to fill the silence so the obligation would not fall on her.
No, she did not wish for that.
“I will need time to think of my answer.”
Mr. Clavering exhaled at her side, as if he had been holding his breath. “That is not a no, then.”
She looked up to see his grin.
“It is not a no,” she confirmed.
He leaned down and said in a near whisper, “If we were not in such a public setting, I might be tempted to persuade you with a kiss—one that I would be in no hurry to end.”
Alice’s breath fled at the thought of what that would be like, and it took a minute before she could think of the proper reply. “Whether or not we were in such a public setting, it would not be at all the thing, Mr. Clavering.”
“Nevertheless,” he said, grinning.
She kept her face forward, willing herself not to smile, but she could feel the ache in her cheeks. She bit her lip.
He leaned down again. “And I wish you would call me George. I have taken the liberty of calling you Alice in my mind when I think of you, which is often.”
“I seem to remember you took the liberty out loud as well the last time we met,” she said, attempting a tone of indignation. It was not at all convincing.
“You noticed that, did you? I was hoping you would not,” he replied, shaking his head in mock regret.
Alice’s lips trembled upward. It made her happy to be in his presence. She would have to think very carefully about her decision. To accept would be to run counter to everything she had determined. She would become the kind of weak-minded woman she detested. But then she would get to live with George and look at him and laugh with him—and kiss him every day for the rest of their lives.
Oh dear. And now they would have to think of some other topic of conversation for the rest of their walk. It was all very awkward—or at least it should be. What if she had said no!
“My estate at St. Ives is near enough to the ocean that one can reach it in a half hour’s ride.” George paused and looked down at her to see if she was interested. She was. “There is a village where the tenants live, and although they farm the land as their principal activity, they also trade with the fishermen. The house has fourteen bedrooms—if you don’t include the servants’ quarters—and some of the rooms have a view of the fountain that is in front. My favorite is the view in the back that overlooks the garden and the meadow beyond. It leads to a small wooded area that has enough pheasants to provide sport during hunting season. You won’t care about that, of course. But the area is idyllic for walking, outside of hunting season. The morning room is very favorably situated, although a woman’s touch in decorating would not go amiss.”
George continued on in this way as they walked, telling her about the tenants and the repairs he was making and about the housekeeper and butler, who had been married for thirty years. She listened, wondering what it would be like to be mistress of such an establishment, and to live so near the ocean. Her family did not often travel, aside from the two trips to Brighton at the Prince Regent’s invitation and the journeys between the family estate in Kent and their London house. She had not even visited her sister in Cumbria and would have been grateful for a chance to see it, had the proposed visit not fallen right in the middle of the Season, and—she had to own—in the middle of her budding friendship with George Clavering. He was surprised to learn that she had not been sea bathing when they went to Brighton because her mother had a terrible fear of the waves.
“One day, you will set your bare feet in the ocean, Alice.” They had turned in their walk some ways back and were nearing her house. Alice could scarcely believe their time together was over. She hoped he would not press her for an answer too soon. She thought her heart would say yes, but she needed to be certain.
When they arrived, he stopped and faced her. “I will be at Almack’s tomorrow night if you will go. I understand it to be complicated for you, as your mother cannot accompany you. If I ask Philippa to escort you, would your mother permit it?”
Alice bit her lip. “I had better ask Cleda. It will be less suspicious for my mother. But I believe I will be there. My mother likes Cleda.” She smiled up at him, happy at the thought of seeing him the next day.
She had no desire to leave his company, but it was time she did so. She had some serious thinking to do. He walked her up the steps, and as the butler opened the door, he tipped his hat and bowed.
“It has been an enjoyable afternoon for me, Lady Alice,” he said.
“And for me, Mr. Clavering.”
Horace stood in attendance, so she slipped through the door, followed by Daisy, and did not permit herself to turn and watch him go. All she had was what was stored up in her heart—his words and declaration. It had been some time since she had been nourished by so sustaining an encouragement.
“You are going to marry that man, I believe,” Cleda whispered at Almack’s when Alice glanced around the room yet again to try to catch a glimpse of George.
“Hm. I am not so sure. It is a big decision.” Alice turned to see if he was in the far corner. Was he in their alcove? But no, there were others there. She could hardly focus on the milling guests tonight. She had but one thought, and it was to be near him.
At last, he walked in, and his eyes easily found her in the crowd. He smiled and began to move her way before being interrupted by his friend Mr. Amos, who had tapped him on the shoulder.
Alice was no nearer to being able to admit to herself that she wanted to marry him. In her heart, the wedding had already been performed, and she was living in St. Ives. In her mind, the battle raged as she clung to her independence. Her heart allowed her mind to agree to dance with him, at least.
George ended his conversation with Mr. Amos and made his way over. “Mrs. Bell,” he said, bowing before Cleda. “Good evening, Lady Alice. I hope you will reserve a dance for me this evening?”
Seized by a sudden urge to tease, she allowed her face to fall. “I am sorry. I have given all my dances away. There were so many requests, and I could not say no as I had declared I was to dance tonight.”
George’s face lost all signs of good humor. His disappointment was evident. “I should have come earlier. Whitmore needed me—”
Cleda looked at Alice, half laughing and half exasperated. “Do put him out of his misery.” She sent George a sympathetic look, then walked away, leaving Alice and him alone.
“I haven’t given any dances away,” she confessed, the corner of her lips turning upward. “We have only just arrived—not long before you, as a matter of fact. And I believe the men here are still reluctant to trust that they will not be met with rebuff.”
“It takes a man of great courage to approach you, then,” he said, his humor returning.
“Great courage.”
“I am glad to know there is hope for me yet, and that I can consider myself a man of great courage.” The music for a quadrille began, and he turned to her. “I should prefer to keep my dances for the waltz. Is there someone I can take you to? I would not like for you to be subject to scrutiny because I have spent too much time in your presence—at least not until you are sure of your own heart.”
“That is thoughtful, Mr. Clavering—”
“George,” he whispered.
She smiled but ignored him. Or attempted to, at any rate. “You might accompany me to the refreshment table. There are women there I know.”
He inclined his head and held out his arm. “Come, then. Let me take you there while I wait for our waltz.”
At the refreshment table, the circle containing Teresa, Barbara, Diana, and Annabelle opened to include her. Teresa pounced upon her with delight.
“You have come at just the time to hear the most shocking on-dit. Gwendolyn Chauncey has run off with someone. Disappeared completely from London.”
“On her wedding day with Lord Hicks,” Barbara added, her eyes bright with the gossip.
“On her wedding day?” Alice queried with surprise, before stopping awkwardly. She had almost given them away.
“The day before,” Teresa said. “Poor, poor Lord Hicks. I have heard he is most distraught. He felt a passion for Miss Chauncey, although why he would, who can say? She was not beyond passably pretty, and she was so unfriendly. I always thought there was something wrong with her.”
“Mm.” Alice wrinkled her brows. “I’ve always liked her.”
“Lady Alice, you like to appear generous in your estimation of others, but you know you have your own prejudices,” Barbara said fretfully. “You cannot tell me this news does not shock you.”
It didn’t, but Alice could not say that. “It does, of course. But I feel we must find out the particulars. I hope Miss Chauncey has not suffered any ill.”
“She has disappeared without a trace,” Annabelle added and turned her wide eyes to Barbara and Teresa for their approval.
“Lady Alice, I see you are not dancing.” The voice came from behind her.
For once, Alice was glad for the distraction, no matter who it was—although in this case, the man was Lord Harrowden, whose wife was rumored to be carrying out an indiscretion on the side. Alice wondered why he, as a married man, would single her out. It could not be out of courtesy to invite her to dance since there were gentlemen aplenty and many ladies who lacked partners. But she was anxious to remove herself from the talk of Miss Chauncey lest she make an inadvertent disclosure.
“I have only one dance reserved thus far,” she replied.
“It is my lucky day, then. Allow me to lead you out.” He lifted his arm.
She inclined her head to the ladies and followed him over to the dance floor. She and Lord Harrowden took their places on the sidelines and watched the dance set that was currently in progress. He turned to her with a smile she did not trust.
“Allow me to guess, my lady. Your reserved dance is with George Clavering.”
She eyed him, then turned her face forward. “You are not beginning our dance auspiciously, my lord, if you are already speaking of other partners of mine—and being overly inquisitive.”
He considered this for a minute before responding. “Perhaps I am doing so with a noble aim. I am only telling you this, my lady, for it is most obvious that he is courting your attention.”
Alice did not need long to formulate a response. “Those who court my attention are of no concern of yours.” She was beginning to think it would be better to part ways with Lord Harrowden before they began dancing. It could be done without a fuss now, but not if they had begun to dance. After a pause, she turned to him. “I—”
“Do you know why Clavering is pursuing you?” Lord Harrowden insisted.
His insolence had gone on long enough. She curtsied. “Good evening, my lord.”
“It is because he bet that you would marry this Season. The bet is recorded in the book at White’s.”
Alice paused in her steps, the loud drum of her heartbeat muting his words.
Lord Harrowden came beside her and leaned down to murmur in her ear. “When no other candidate had any success, he began to pursue you so he would not lose his bet.”
Alice did not allow her expression to flinch as the words sank in. It could only be true. The realization struck her like a blow. George loved to make wagers. He could not be pursuing her with honest purpose. Why, the man did nothing but gamble and take mistresses! He did not know what it was to feel any sort of deeper sentiment. That talk of love that Cleda had mentioned was all rubbish, at least where George was concerned. Her face grew warm, and the threat of tears formed at the back of her eyes.
Keeping a firm rein on her emotions, she turned to him. “Good evening, Lord Harrowden.”
Alice turned and walked the sides of the ballroom, looking for Cleda, but could not see her. Her eyes were nearly blinded with tears, but she blinked them away and took herself strongly to task. She had to get out of this stifling crowd, and preferably without meeting George—Mr. Clavering. If she had to face him, she would not be able to keep her tears in check.
She found Cleda in conversation and touched her on the arm. When Cleda turned, her face registered concern at Alice’s obvious distress. Alice had difficulty getting the words out, and others were watching her curiously. She forced a smile.
“If you are not terribly inconvenienced, I must ask if we might get some air. I am feeling faint.”
“Oh, do go attend to Lady Alice,” the woman said, and Cleda nodded briskly and scooped her arm under Alice’s.
“Let us go. If we need to, Mr. Bell will be ready to take us home early.”
Alice kept her gaze down until they pushed their way through the crowd. She made it to the entrance where fresh air poured in. Now if only she could make it to the privacy of the Bell’s carriage, she might survive this evening with her dignity intact.