Alice And The Colonel

by Jaye Peaches

  * * *

  Alice lay on her bed, as she had done for most of the day. She clutched a third sodden kerchief to her face and held back another flood of tears.

  She remembered little of the previous evening. The cold light of day and sobriety only served to heighten her sense of doom. She did recall quite vividly the despair on her father’s face and the horror on her mother’s. Despatched to bed, Alice had continued to be sick, as she had been on the journey home. Instructed to remain in her room, she had been given a paltry plain breakfast, which she could not stomach eating. Worse, neither of her parents saw fit to visit her, such was their fury.

  A guest had arrived, she had heard the butler announce his arrival, but could not discern his name through the thick door. She hated mysteries, picking up a book she tried to read, without success.

  The bedroom door swung open and Alice’s mother entered, her face stern and unyielding. Scrambling to her feet, Alice kept her eyes on the rug at her feet while her mother eased the door shut.

  “You are very fortunate, child,” her mother began. “With good luck and timing, this disaster in the making will hopefully be averted before it has started.”

  “I do not understand, Mama.” Alice peeked from underneath her unruly fringe. Her mother remained unusually stiff in posture, hands clasped before her waist.

  Jane took a deep audible breath through her nose. “You are to be married, as soon as it can be arranged.”

  Married! A hundred questions rushed through Alice’s head all at once. Who? When? How could so much have been decided in one day? Such a decision could not have come from her parents. They wouldn’t have arranged anything without consulting her first. She was their only child and special.

  Her lower lip quivered with growing apprehension. “No! That cannot be possible. I haven’t met anyone.”

  Her mother’s face maintained a stony expression. “You lost the right to have any choice in your marriage last night, young lady. Your father and I are greatly relieved. You wanted to marry a soldier—an officer—it seems you are to be granted your wish.”

  Aghast, Alice swayed on her feet. It could not be the officer she had only met the previous day. “I am to marry… Lieutenant Mosley?” stuttered Alice. She felt repulsed at the thought of him touching her.

  “Nonsense. Luck has blessed you with a far better match. You are to wed Colonel Edmund Seymour,” said her mother with much aplomb.

  “The colonel!” Alice’s legs gave out and she sat on the bed. Which colonel? The one she’d seen on the parade? It could not be him. Her parents didn’t know him. Somebody else. One of those ghastly retired officers who sought out young women. No! Absolutely not. She sprang back up. “I don’t know a Colonel Seymour. I’d rather stay a spinster. I refuse to marry.” She spoke with force, projecting her voice with vehemence.

  Jane took a step forward and stared straight into Alice’s tear filled eyes. “You will do as you are told.”

  Alice could not comprehend how her mother kept a stoic face. Not a jot of give in her expression. Usually, if Alice resorted to tears, her mother caved into her demands. She gritted her teeth. “No, Mama, please. I cannot!” Alice stamped a foot.

  “This is an excellent match for you, Alice,” reiterated Jane.

  Alice had never seen her mother so determined, forthright and unyielding in tone and demeanour. Throughout her childhood, her mama had lavished much attention on Alice. Providing her with an extensive wardrobe, books and visits to the assembly rooms to hear music or dance. If she desired a purse or trinket, her mother obliged. Alice suspected the generosity was due to the lack of siblings. Her birth had been traumatic and ended any hope of further offspring. Instead, her mother treated Alice as if she were many children. Now, her mother had taken on a different mantle and it startled Alice to see her refusing to countenance her daughter’s obstinacy.

  Alice stuck her chin out. “What if I do not co-operate?” she asked almost belligerently.

  “Then you will leave this house,” said Jane firmly. “We might be able to salvage your dear father’s reputation and the wealth it brings to this household, but only if you are out of sight. Perhaps we might find you a post as a governess in some remote part of the county. Or maybe a position abroad.”

  Alice’s eyes widened as her heart exploded in a panic of beats. Rocking on her toes, she replayed the scene in the alleyway. She had been caught with a man on his knees at her feet, touching her. How terrible it would be to have such gossip prattle about the town. She let out a sob of understanding. Her parents only sought to protect her and find a solution. She could not blame them. Her mother’s bearing told Alice the decision was irreversible.

  With a growing sense of defeat, Alice sniffed. “I would have it not so, Mama. I do wish there is some other… I don’t want to make any more trouble… I’ve been foolish,” she mumbled. Finding the courage, she looked directly at her mother. “I’ve told lies and been very selfish.”

  Her mother’s face softened slightly and she gave Alice a small encouraging nod.

  Alice sighed deeply. “Very well, Mama. If it is what you and Papa wish.”

  Jane frowned. “No, Alice. It was never our wish to have you marry through such circumstances and not for love. However, you have made this situation out of your own foolishness.”

  Alice wiped away a tear on her cheek. She had to move on and deal with her situation as befits her maturity. She wasn’t a child. She had to count her blessings and hope her parents had chosen wisely.

  “What is this colonel like? Was he the one I saw at the parade?”

  Her mother gave a small nod. “Yes, he mentioned he saw you there.”

  Was her mother smiling? The tiny curvature of the lips added smile lines to her grim bearing. Alice cast her mind back to the rider. Not retired or ancient, quite youthful, for a colonel. “He looked a fine man in appearance, but I know nothing of him.”

  Her mother relaxed her posture and it pleased Alice, the bad air between them had begun to clear. “You do know him. Perhaps it is too far gone in your memories. Edmund is the son of one of your father’s dearest friends, long deceased. The colonel has visited here, but not in many years. He remembered you though, quite a promising start.”

  Alice now understood why he had a familiarity about him. For the first time since her mother had entered the room, curiosity about the mysterious colonel over took despair at her predicament. “Is he a kind man?”

  “As an officer he will be strict, of that you can be assured, but yes, he is a decent, kind man. As a boy, he was too. He made something for you, do you not remember?”

  “No,” Alice peered about the room, searching for a clue. What possibly could he have given her?

  “It is in the old nursery. The doll’s house. He fashioned it for you, him and Grainger.”

  Alice pictured the rather makeshift toy in her old nursery. She hadn’t the heart to throw it away, believing it should be given to her own children. A fortuitous premonition given that she was about to marry the man who made it. “What happens next?”

  “You will tidy your face and hair, put on your prettiest dress and meet your betrothed.”

  Half an hour later, Alice took tentative steps downstairs to the drawing room. Listening to her mother, she had gone from fury and despair to resignation. She dried her eyes with a face cloth. No more tears. She was to marry a colonel. She would have her gallant soldier in his uniform. Was that not her dream?

  Opening the door, she immediately dropped into a curtsey before her parents and the scarlet uniformed colonel. Lifting her eyes, his face, no longer hidden under a cocked hat, he could be seen clearly in the light. A fine set of manly attributes greeted her: grey eyes, faintly chestnut hair swept forward about the temples and square shoulders exemplified by his epaulets. Brass buttons shone, as did his black boots. One hand clasped behind his back, the other holding his cocked hat. His regalia completed by a sword in its scabbard, hanging about his thigh. Alice gulped, def
initely not old in years, but a demeanour that exuded elegance and vitality.

  “Miss Aubrey, Alice,” He bowed his head. Throughout his salute, his eyes remained fixed on her. She could easily grow to like his pale eyes. His voice, too; a soft, deep tone, which made her spine tingle slightly.

  “Sir,” responded Alice, unable to articulate anything further. The colonel hypnotised her with his unwavering expression. He didn’t leer or ogle, something quite different greeted her compared to most men she met. Did he like what he saw in her? She had been so foolish the previous night with the young officers who had flattered her with false enthusiasm. She hoped the colonel would express his desires unambiguously. Would he tell her how he felt? Why he wanted to marry her?

  “Excellent,” said her father, clapping his hands and rubbing them together gleefully. The fatigue immediately lifted from his face. “There is much to discuss. Please be seated, Ned.”

  Alice noted the informal nickname, a courtesy that didn’t extend to her, his bride to be. She had yet to earn it, she assumed.

  She sat mute while carefully crafted plans about her future were made without her involvement. She wanted to interject, express her opinions, but the conversation took place above and around her.

  “The colonel will openly court Alice. We are keen, are we not, Jane, to quash any unpleasant rumours,” said her father.

  “Chaperoned, of course, on every occasion,” added her mother gravely.

  Alice listened in silence as they laid out their plans. The couple would walk the streets, the green parks and attend the parish churches to hear the banns read. Perhaps a small ball, too.

  Edmund kindly dismissed the need for a dowry, requiring that Henry only pay for the cost of the wedding and breakfast banquet. His lack of demands for money relieved Alice, she didn’t want to burden her parents. A kind man, her mother had said. Alice hoped this was an indication of that benevolence.

  The wedding would be simple. Alice suppressed the desire to pout. She had often discussed with her mother her ideas for a grand wedding. However, her father was adamant it wouldn’t do to attract too much attention to the family’s plight.

  “I agree,” said the colonel. “Best keep this understated.”

  Alice pursed her lips. Did his lack of interest in a grand celebration extent to her? Was she not worthy of merriment and entertainment? Oh, no! She fretted at the idea of marrying a dull man. Would he dance with her or throw extravagant parties? The colonel seemed far too serious a man to consider such frivolity. Maybe she could change him. If fluttering her eyelashes didn’t work, she would have to rely on other feminine wiles and hope he would indulge her.

  The colonel continued to discuss the wedding day. A broad grin grew on his face as he absentmindedly waved a hand back and forth. “We will travel to my estate in Buxton on the night of the wedding and once there, begin our new life together.”

  Wedding night! Her insides bubbled with a strange sensation. What happened on a wedding night was something her friends sniggered about but never provided any substance. She suspected none of them knew any more than what she did, and all that she knew involved less clothing and a great deal of touching. Embarrassed by her thoughts, she felt the heat in her face rising.

  At his keen words, Edmund glanced over to the dumbfounded Alice and offered her the sweetest of smiles. “Don’t fret, Alice. I will be a good husband. You will not regret this, nor will I.”

  Regret? She dearly hoped she wouldn’t regret her parents’ decision. Colonel Seymour had kindled the beginnings of a fire inside her. She wished to see where it took her.

  Chapter Four

  The weeks of courtship flew by. There had been numerous outings, always accompanied by Edmund’s future mother-in-law. It had afforded the couple the chance to interview each other. He found Alice, beneath her spoilt exterior, to be intelligent, kind-hearted and attentive. However, he was about to witness a side of her he deemed less appealing.

  During a stroll along a riverbank—her mother a few paces behind—Alice made a request. “Please, sir. Do me the honour of meeting my most cherished companions.” She fluttered her eyelashes, as he had seen her do on countless occasions when asking a favour of her father. It did seem to have an endearing effect, something he hadn’t expected so soon in their relationship.

  He granted her wish, somewhat reluctantly. The occasion, a ball. Having done the parks and streets, he, in conjunction with her parents, agreed something more visible was needed to raise their profile. The ball, hosted by a mill owner in his modest townhouse, afforded an opportunity to mix with Alice’s friends—a brash group of giggling girls.

  “Lucy, you must get yourself betrothed,” announced Alice, once the introductions had been completed. “It is such fun to have a man escort you hither and thither. I am gaining a measure of practice at it. Am I not, Colonel Seymour?” She cocked her head to one side, grinning from ear to ear.

  Edmund certainly could agree—they had done much walking in recent weeks. His legs were more accustomed to horseback riding than cobble streets and garden paths. “You are. So is my purse, since you insist on buying trinkets in every shop we attend.”

  Lucy smothered a titter. “Alice, you are fortunate. To have met the colonel here and then betrothed so quickly. What have you been doing?”

  Edmund cleared his throat with a brisk cough. He hoped Alice wouldn’t be tempted to answer such an impertinent question.

  Alice glanced quickly at him, then lowered her voice. “My lips are supposed to be sealed. I can assure you, though, the incident bestowed a very worthy outcome on me.”

  Edmund frowned, while her friends blushed, especially, the shy one, Ann.

  “Alice,” rebuked Edmund, “not a suitable topic. As you well know.”

  Alice brushed her hand down his arm. “Oh, colonel, you would spoil my fun. I’m with friends.”

  He took in the collection of friends, who seemed to hang on Alice’s every word like puppy dogs expecting a bone to chew on. He didn’t dislike them, but he saw no attraction in their manners. Alice, once in their company, had reverted to a level of immaturity he considered beneath her status as his betrothed. How he wished he could take her to one side and impose order on her unruly ways. He fashioned the scenario in his mind. A quiet room, just the two of them, a word of warning in her ears, and then, if she still defied him, a brisk moment over his knee.

  But not yet. Once they married, such a response would be fitting. Until then, he would have to stow his hand away and hope his words were sufficient admonishment. A pity, he didn’t delight in the idea of disciplining her, yet, he wondered how she might take it. How it would effect her opinion of him.

  He gave Alice one last furrow of his eyebrows, and with a roll of her eyes, she changed the topic of conversation to the latest fashions in hat attire. Edmund sighed in relief.

  On one bright spring day, when all the necessary formalities of courtship had been completed and the Aubrey’s reputation returned to its proper place, he reported to Alice his leave of absence from the army and his impending retirement. He also informed her that once they were married he would cease to wear his uniform.

  “Oh, will I not see you in that fine red coat any longer? What a pity,” she pouted with downcast eyes.

  “Being your husband will be my new uniform. I shall wear the role with pride,” he told her, hoping to see her rather pretty eyes lift up.

  She did, but with a quizzical expression. “Tell me, colonel, what is the nature of marriage for you?”

  Edmund decided to be bluntly honest. “I will care for you, protect you and bestow my honour upon your person. You must be devoted to me. However, I will be strict. I am not of the same ilk as your father. You must expect me to discipline you if you should wander from the path of good, decent behaviour. Just as you favour the uniform outwardly, I favour the well-behaved wife, visible to all, especially me.”

  Alice’s lips quivered, but she didn’t inquire about his meaning of the wor
d discipline. At some point she would find out, he surmised, given her rather bold nature.

  Seeing her perturbed expression, he sought to reassure her. “However, I will love you too. This is my promise to you,” he said with sincerity. The words slipped out of his mouth unexpectedly, yet he had to assume he meant them in earnest, or why else would he have spoken them?

  * * *

  The luxurious barouche carriage, hired by Edmund for the wedding day, ferried Alice from Dodsworth House to the small parish church. Later, after the brief ceremony, Edmund accompanied her back to the house for the breakfast feast, which they shared with only the closest of friends—a rather disappointing banquet, but one she could not protest about. As the afternoon arrived, the horses were once again hitched to the barouche to take the newly wedded couple to Buxton. A journey across the Peaks on a rough, heavily used turnpike.

  Alice said a tearful farewell to her parents. She embraced her mother and then held her father’s hands and he gave hers a squeeze, calming her anxieties. His face appeared proud beneath a veneer of sadness.

  A purple bloom of heather greeted Alice as they journeyed over the moors of the Peaks. The horses struggled to climb the steep inclines until they reached the plateau at the top, then, having taken refreshments at an inn, they descended to the valley below and the town of Buxton.

  Before they reached the outskirts, the coachman turned the barouche off the turnpike and onto a track. It led them passed a wood, a lake and then the landscape opened up into a vast parkland. Alice gawped at the scenery; Westfell Hall stood at the end of the small valley and she never imagined it would be such a grand and elegant property.