She nodded, too frightened to say anything.
“I was going to tell Alice about the deal in my own way, but you had to come in and ruin everything for me. Do you understand that you have taken away any chance I had of telling Alice how I felt about her? I wanted to marry her, not because of the stupid arranged marriage, but because I have grown to love her for who she is.”
The woman began to cry fat droplets that coursed down her cheeks unchecked. “I am so sorry for what I have done, Lord Shore! I –”
“Save your apology for someone who cares.”
Luke found that he could no longer look at the woman. He turned and walked away, Norton following behind him. His friend said nothing to him, only laying a hand on his shoulder, but not even that could bring him any comfort. Alice was gone.
Chapter 12
Alice drew the covers over her head the moment the sun made itself known through her curtains.
“Mama should have used the thicker curtains, these are far too flimsy,” she complained to herself.
However, the sun could parade its cheery self all it wanted for she was not going to leave her bed. When she felt that she could no longer receive adequate air beneath the blankets, she turned her back on the light to stare at the wall.
The blank wall proved more comforting to her, offering no advice or mockery. A broken heart did not need words, but silence. Alice had grown tired of her family trying to coax her out of her state of mind. What they needed was to leave her in peace. Each emotion required to be experienced in its fullness as a lesson to her, to teach her the ways of life. Did her father not always say that mistakes and failures are designed to strengthen you? To give you the knowledge to make more informed decisions and choices?
If that was the truth, how did she allow herself to repeat the same mistake? Alice could blame everyone if she so pleased, accusing them of forcing their opinions and beliefs on her. The very same people who proclaimed to love her were the ones who delivered her into this situation.
Her father, mother and sister needed to accept the responsibility of their actions and bear the consequences without complaint. If she did not wish to leave her room, eat a meal or converse with any one of them, then they should accept it rather than become vexed.
She was not so indifferent to the servants, however. Alice welcomed their intrusion as they did not come with their solutions and views on the matter. They did not force her to bathe, eat or leave her room. Even Mary, who seldom ceased to speak, did not badger her with her incessant speech. The young maid would only bring and take away meals that were rarely touched, remove unused water that had become cold, or remove her bedding to replace it with fresh. The servants treated her as though she were ill, only whispering their requests to her, never expecting a word in response.
Alice knew that Mary would come to her room soon to ask if she needed any assistance with preparing for the day. But she was not ready to do that. Three days had passed since the incident, and Alice was no closer to reaching a mind state that would enable her to integrate back into the world. She needed the solace of her room to heal, or she would never fully recover. Had she truly recovered after the first heartbreak?
Apparently so, or she would not have been so foolish as to give her heart to another. This time, the pain in her heart was far more magnified than the first one, leaving her stunned and wounded. The scene repeatedly played in her mind, forcing her to relive the moment over and over again. It was a horror story come to life, and she was the victim. Perhaps blood and gore would have been easier to overcome than this emotional pain.
Feeling hot, she kicked the covers off her, adjusting her voluminous nightdress over her legs. Alice caught a whiff of her underarms, grimacing at the ripe smell. A bath would be welcome today, but not much else. Her appetite had not yet fully returned, which could explain why her usually softly curved stomach looked flatter. One thing was certain: heartbreak was a wonderful way to lose weight.
Unless you were the type to gorge yourself on food when emotional. Alice once knew a young woman who had been jilted at the altar and, having suffered such shame and emotional pain, turned to pastries to console herself. The girl went from being unfashionably thin to sporting fat rolls on her arms, neck and stomach. Imagine the surprise of all who knew her when she was soon married to an earl after the sudden weight gain. The man, tall and as thin as a reed, apparently loved the abundant figure of a fat woman and was quite obsessed with his wife. She had had a favourable outcome to her pain, but Alice had experienced it twice in just over a year. Would it be third time lucky for her?
Perhaps she needed to gain weight to find herself a husband who could see no one else but her overflowing figure. The problem with that was her aversion to anything of extreme excess, be that alcohol, weight or wealth. She seemed to be contradicting herself. Luke was an affluent man, one of the wealthiest men of his age group, and yet she allowed herself to fall in love with him. She had to re-evaluate her own ideals, or stand in judgement of them. Perhaps if she had kept to them, this situation would never have happened.
A rap on the door interrupted her thoughts. “Miss Campbell, may I enter your room?”
“What would the reason be, Mary?”
“I would like to prepare your bath, Miss.”
Oh, a bath was certainly welcome. Alice needed relief from the pungent smell she had hidden beneath her bed covers. “Come in, Mary.”
The maid entered with the first bucket load of what would likely be hot water, keeping her eyes low. “Would you like your usual basin or the large bath, Miss Campbell?”
“The large bath, Mary. Would you bring me the soap with the flower petals?”
“Yes, Miss.”
She hurried away, forgetting to close the door behind her. Expelling a short breath of air, Alice left the comfort of her bed to shut it. She did not want anyone to peek into her room and see her miserable state. Her hand had yet to touch the door when she heard voices nearby.
“What did she say to you, Mary?” asked her sister.
“Nothing specific, Miss Violet. She has agreed to a bath and would like to use the petal soap.”
“And no wonder. She must smell rather ripe after refusing to bathe in three days. Does she look any better?”
“She is always polite, Miss Violet. I do not know if there is a significant change in her.”
“Very well, do as she says. I shall see her once she has completed her ablutions.”
So her sister wished to bother her yet again? No one seemed to adhere to her wishes in this house. If they did, they would wait for her to go to them.
Violet had been the main one to push her towards Luke, influencing her to think favourably about him. However, her father had been the one to arrange the marriage, and her mother had supported him. They were all at fault. The least they could do was give her time to come to terms with everything before trying to speak with her. She needed a lock for my room. None of the doors in the townhouse could be locked from the inside, only the outside. This posed a problem for her as she could not keep anyone out, but they could keep her in. The perfect way for a father to lock his unwilling daughter in her room until her wedding day. Would her father still force her to marry Luke? She had thought it in jest once before, but what if it were to happen?
If he could arrange it, he might still force it upon her. How else would he pay his debt to the duke? Alice could assume anything of her father since the creation of the diabolical plan between him and Luke’s father.
Softly shutting the door, she returned to her bed deep in thought. Alice spent the bulk of her days in tears or numbness, and today had been the first day she had yet to cry. But thinking about a forced marriage between her and Luke left her breathless. Literally. A sharp pain struck her chest, spreading to her upper back in seconds. Shocked by the force of it, she stood up, only to fall back on the bed again in a fit of dizziness. She could feel the perspiration build up on her face, beading her upper lip with little salty
droplets. Alice lifted a trembling hand to her face, coming away with a wet palm. Frightened by the changes in her body, she imagined the worst. Was she dying?
“I cannot breathe, I c-cannot breathe.”
Alice began to shake uncontrollably, hearing her heartbeat thudding in her ears. Thinking that a wet cloth would help her, she stood up slowly, taking only one step before she fell to her knees and hands. Mary came in shortly after and, upon seeing her on the ground, uttered a cry and hurried to her.
“Miss Campbell, what has happened? Are you unwell?”
The woman knelt down next to her and attempted to help her stand up, but Alice could not stand to be touched. She flinched away from Mary, shouting at her in a voice she hardly recognised as her own. “Leave me!”
The maid fell backwards, scrambling away from her. Alice clutched her throat. It felt as though someone had grabbed her and was squeezing her tightly. As the room began to swim about her, she willed herself to fight against the darkness that threatened to take her. But she lost.
***
Alice cracked an eye open, then the other. Did she fall asleep so soon after waking up? Her thoughts were jumbled in her mind, as though someone had reached into her head and scrambled them. She looked around her room, surprised to see how clean and orderly it looked. She had not cleaned her room. Neither had she allowed anyone to do so. Rubbing her eyes, She attempted to sit up to further inspect her surroundings, but fell right back on her pillows.
She felt strangely weak and I could not remember much of anything. What could have happened to her? It was a mystery, and Alice could not help but feel a trickle of fear travel down her back. Why could she not remember going to sleep or someone coming in to clean her room? Had they come in while she was asleep? Who could have defied her wishes to such an extent? Determined to find out what may have happened, she took in a deep breath and forced her body to sit up, closing her eyes when the room started to spin.
“Goodness, I feel rather ill.”
Alice looked down at herself. Had she not been wearing her white nightdress? She was wearing the blue one now. Perhaps she wore the white one the day before. However, she was quite sure that she had woken up with the white one due to the simple reason that she had not bathed yet. Forgotten scenes flowed into her consciousness, providing the information she needed. Her brow creased as she pushed to make sense of it all, trying to understand what could have brought about such a violent moment of pain and fear. Was it an accumulation of all that had thus far happened?
But she did not react in such a way when the awful truth was revealed to her. Why did it only attack her now?
A sharp tingling sensation invaded her body when the culprit surfaced in her mind. A forced marriage was enough to make anyone run for the hills. But coupled with the tumultuous emotions within her that she was struggling to deal with, it had to have brought about the strange effect on her body.
Alice was truly terrified that her father would forcibly give her to Luke to settle his debt, and when she felt the beginnings of what seemed to be a repeat attack, she mentally pushed down her panic, imagining a lid closing over it. No, she could not give in to her fears, she would not allow them to overwhelm her once again.
Footsteps sounded outside her bedroom, drawing her attention. Violet appeared at her doorway, her already puffy eyes filling with tears when she saw her. “You are awake! Thank goodness, Alice.” Her sister moved swiftly towards her, taking her hand when she sat on the bed.
“Why do you cry, Violet?”
"We found you unconscious on the floor, and you would ask me such a silly question?"
“I am well, as you can see for yourself.”
“But what if you had not been, Alice? Why did you scare us so?”
“It was not something that I planned, Violet. You can hardly blame me, considering the circumstances.”
Her sister sniffed, dabbing her wet eyes with the back of her hand. She may still feel some anger towards her, but she was still her sister. "Do not cry, Vi, I am as fit as a fiddle. I allowed myself to become consumed by my thoughts, and it had an adverse effect on my person."
“Yes, the physician said that you were likely under an intense amount of stress. Papa did not dare tell him that he was the cause of your illness.”
Alice snorted. “Of course not. He cannot afford his image to be besmirched by such a trivial matter in his life. After all, if he can sell me to the highest bidder, what care can he have towards me?” Alice knew she sounded bitter, but it was better than crying about it. She had already cried an ocean of tears to last her a lifetime, now she wanted resolution.
“Do not speak in such a manner, Alice. Papa became quite ill when he saw your weakened body, taking to drink to calm himself. Mama was the only strong one of us all, ordering the servants about to make you as comfortable as possible.”
“Ah, so I have Mama to thank for my room and the change of nightdress.” She lifted an arm. “I smell clean as well. I take it that I received a sponge bath?”
Violet nodded. “She insisted that she do it herself. Mama had everyone leave the room for quite some time, and when we returned, your hair had been combed, and your nightdress was changed. I suppose it was her way to calm herself.”
“Or to atone for what she did.”
Violet gasped, undoubtedly shocked by the anger in her words. “Mama could only do as Papa said, Alice, she had no other choice. You should not be vexed by this matter for I do believe that there is hope yet.”
Alice lifted an eyebrow. “Hope? What is this hope that you speak of? I see nothing but despair.”
“Oh, Alice, must you be so severe with everyone? Luke's love for you has not changed. In fact, he called on you yesterday.”
“If you wish to speak of that man, I suggest that you leave this room.”
“You would chase me away?”
Alice shrugged. “It is your decision as to whether you stay or go, Violet. I am by no means chasing you away.” She tried to appear as nonchalant as possible, she did not wish her sister to see how painful it was to hear about the man she still loved.
Her sister searched her eyes. “Why must you always act brave? You have refused to see or speak to me in nearly three days, it took an illness for me to sit here on your bed and hold your hand. Please, Alice, please allow me to speak to you? I need you to see the truth in this mess.”
“I know the truth, Violet, it has not been hidden away. You wished for me to give love another chance, and so I did. In the end, what did it bring me? Henry, Luke – they are both alike in so many ways. I will admit that I believed Luke to be a better man, but it was but an illusion, was it not? He knew that his father and Papa had arranged a marriage between us, and I take it that he has known for quite some time. I now understand why Mama and Papa had the argument all those weeks ago.” She laughed bitterly. “It was staged for my benefit, but I could not see it then. Papa stressed that the only way to solve his debt was for me to make a favourable match. Little did I know that the match had been made already.”
“None of that changes the fact that Luke loves you, Alice. He spoke to me briefly yesterday and attempted to explain his actions before Mama asked him to leave. He was too –”
Alice held her hand up. “I shall not listen to his excuses, Violet. Thus it is pointless for you to speak of them to me. Lord Shore is nothing to me.”
“Surely you do not mean that?”
No, she did not mean that at this moment, but there would come a time when she would. Alice looked to the future as she answered her sister's question. “I mean it with every fibre of my being.”
“Love does not simply disappear into thin air, Alice.”
“Yes, but it can be replaced by a stronger emotion.”
The Way to Capture a Marquess's Heart: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 20