by Meghan Sloan
She closed her eyes briefly, feeling the notes almost inside her. “It is the Moonlight Sonata,” she whispered, opening them again.
“It is my favourite,” he whispered, gazing at her. “He dedicated it to the woman that he loved, Countess Guicciardi.” He looked at her, holding it out his hand. “Would you like to dance?”
She gasped. They were alone, unchaperoned, and should return to the house. But something reckless was pulling at her, deep within.
She wanted to dance with him. Alone. She wanted to feel his arms around her.
Silently, she nodded, taking his hand. They stood up and he put his hand on her waist, drawing her closer to him. Silently they waltzed around the gazebo, as the Moonlight Sonata unfurled like a ribbon.
Alice gazed around as the world spun about her, unable to believe that this was happening. She was in his arms and they were alone, dancing together, beneath the moonlight. She was waltzing with him, a scandalous dance that still caused controversy.
It was the closest thing to heaven on earth that she had ever felt.
Her waist felt heavy from where his hand was placed on it. He pulled her closer as they spun around, feeling warmth emanating from his body. He was so much taller than her that she had to strain her neck looking up at him. She felt like a small, trembling bird in his arms.
Abruptly, she broke away from him, her hands on her flaming cheeks, appalled.
“We should not do this,” she whispered frantically. “We should return to the party…”
He didn’t answer her. Instead, he stepped forward so that he was towering over her. She felt the masculine strength of him almost coursing through his body, like the strumming of the strings on a violin.
“There is no scandal,” he whispered. “You are my fiancée, after all…”
“It is not proper,” she insisted, her heart beating wildly. “Even though we are betrothed, we should always be chaperoned. You know it as well as I do.”
He gazed at her looking regretful. But he nodded. “I shall lead you back into the party,” he said slowly. “If that is truly what you want, of course.”
She nodded, but she was conflicted. A part of her wanted to stay here with him, twirling around the gazebo beneath the moonlight. It was pure magic, as if the fairies themselves had come out to frolic.
But another part of her knew that it was not possible. Soon, someone would come out, searching for them. And she could not compromise her reputation, could she?
Suddenly, he took her hand, pulling her towards him. And before she knew what was happening, he kissed her, quite gently, on the cheek.
She felt it as though something had burnt her. As if he had branded her with a hot iron.
“You have surprised me, Alice Sinclair,” he whispered, stroking a finger down her cheek. “In a most delightful way.” He hesitated. “In a way that I had thought lost to me forever.”
Her eyes filled with sudden tears. “I am glad,” she whispered.
The moment hung between them. But suddenly the music stopped, the last notes drifting off into the night.
“Come,” he said, holding out his arm. “We will go inside, before we are discovered.” He grinned, a little wickedly. “I would not want to compromise your reputation, and have people whispering about what we have got up to in this garden. Making insinuations about what we have been doing.”
“No, indeed,” she said, taking a deep breath, feeling her face flush crimson.
They walked back down the path, towards the house, as snowflakes fluttered around them, both silent.
She felt more alive than she had ever felt in her life. She felt as though she had somehow never been alive before. As if she had been born again on this night, in his arms, in the most astonishing of ways.
She would, quite simply, never be the same again.
Chapter 10
Later that night, when she was safely back at home and in bed, Alice dreamed again about how he had held her in his arms, waltzing her around the gazebo beneath the moon. She realised something so earth shattering and amazing that she sat up in bed, her heart pounding hard in her chest.
She was falling in love with him.
She had known it from the moment she had set eyes upon him, from her bedroom window. An awareness that she had never felt before. The sensations that he roused within her, by his mere touch. The ease with which she spoke to him, so naturally, as if they had known each other for a long time.
Her eyes filled with tears. It was so momentous, and yet, she had no one to share this revelation with. Charlotte had returned to her own home after the evening. And she had been too wrapped-up in what had happened in the gazebo on the carriage ride home to speak to her friend about it.
Charlotte had stared at her oddly when she had returned to the parlour. Silas had insisted that they not enter together, so as not to set tongues wagging unnecessarily. She should go first and he would follow five minutes later. She supposed that he’d had enough controversy to last him a lifetime after what had happened to Marina. And besides, she had been the one who had cut their time together short.
Despite his precautions, she was conscious that a few people were looking at her. Nicholas Turner looked strangely pleased, like the cat who got the cream. Lucy Oakley glanced at her, too, with large, sad eyes. Alice had felt a twinge of guilt. She guessed the lady was thinking that it should have been Marina walking through that door followed by Silas.
There had been whispers swirling around her. Once she was sure she had heard Marina’s name mentioned as she had walked past a group of ladies. They had all smiled at her, but she was conscious that they had been gossiping. It was hardly surprising, she supposed. What did they make of Silas’s new fiancée compared to the old one? She couldn’t help but think that they were probably astounded that Silas was with someone so very different to his old love. She would always be the sparrow to Marina’s peacock. That much was obvious.
But it didn’t stop her loving him at all. Perhaps it should have. For how could she allow herself to fall in love with a man who was still so clearly grieving his lost love?
She knew that he liked her, and that he was surprised by how much he did. She knew that he had felt the spark between them whenever he touched her. But that did not mean that he was falling in love with her as she was with him. Especially since he could not even mention the name of his old fiancée to her, never mind talk about the lady in a free and open manner.
That told her all she needed to know about how he still felt. If he had truly let go of his love for Marina and moved on, he would be able to mention her and speak about her without thought. But Silas was like a tightly wound clock, where Miss St. George was concerned. She had witnessed it at the dinner table when Lucy Oakley had mentioned her.
Was he still in love with her?
Alice felt tears coursing down her cheeks at the very thought. She sobbed quietly, putting her hands over her face. This was going to be torture. She had thought she could handle this when she had gone into it. She had thought she could easily walk away if he was still in love with Marina. But she had not counted on the fact that she would fall so quickly in love with him herself.
How could she go through with it knowing that he loved another woman? It would break her heart and her spirit knowing that her husband could never be truly hers. That he would never feel the same way about her as she felt about him. It would have been bad enough playing second fiddle to a ghost, even if she hadn’t loved him. But now, it was a thousand times worse than she could have ever imagined.
But equally, how could she let him go, loving him as she did?
It was a conundrum. And she could not for the life of her think how to solve it.
***
Eventually, she drifted off into a troubled sleep. But strange dreams filled her mind, causing her to toss and turn, gripping the sheets with white knuckled fists.
She was running, through a dark, thickly canopied woodland. The branches hung down, like bony fi
ngers, brushing against her.
She didn’t know where she was running to, only that it was imperative that she keep going. She knew something was pursuing her. She felt it, just behind her. She didn’t dare turn her head to see what it was. The fear of it kept her feet moving, making her breath ragged.
She could barely see. The woods were dark and dim. Strangely, they seemed to be closing in on her, the branches moving ever nearer, so that she was forced to flap at them with her arms.
The skin on the back of her neck was prickling. She felt it just behind her. Reaching out to grab her.
“Alice!” called a woman’s voice behind her. “Alice, you must stop, and look at me.”
The command was imperious. Abruptly, she slowed down, even though she willed herself to keep moving. Her legs and her feet would simply not obey her. She ground to a halt and then she turned around as the voice had commanded.
She saw a dark silhouette in the shape of a woman. The same dark silhouette that she had seen from her bedroom window walking out of the rolling fog.
“Who are you?” she whispered, in horror.
“You know who I am,” said the woman. “You have known it all along. I am the one who you seek to forget. I am the one who will always be between you and him.”
“No,” she cried, shaking her head. “No! You are not real…”
The figure stepped forward in a menacing way. “You will never have him. I have his heart for eternity, and you cannot change it.”
Alice cried out, trying to step back, but her feet seemed to be stuck fast to the ground, almost as though she were sinking into mud, or quicksand.
“Help me,” she cried, twisting and turning in fear. “I am sinking…”
But the dark figure of the woman simply watched her. And then the woman started laughing. A low laugh, rising to a high-pitched cackle. Over and over again, so that Alice had to press her hands to her ears to block it out as she sank lower into the ground…
Alice sat up suddenly in the bed, panting desperately. Her nightgown was soaked in sweat.
It wasn’t real, she told herself. It was simply a dream. A nightmare.
But the cloying horror of it stayed with her, almost thick in the bedroom. And with it, the image of the dark woman and her vow that Alice would never win Silas’s heart.
***
The next day, the horror of the nightmare had faded. But as Alice went about her day, attending a pianoforte lesson and a dress-fitting, it was always at the back of her mind. As was the low, heavy ache of the realisation of her love for Silas.
She had just settled for afternoon tea with Mama in the drawing room when the butler arrived with a letter for her. Her hands trembled as she opened it and her heart started to beat frantically as her eyes scanned it, looking for the name of the writer.
It was from him.
My dear Alice,
I find I cannot stop thinking about our rendezvous in the garden the other night and am most desirous to see you again.
I propose a walk in the countryside, not far from Bath. I know a particular path, which is quite delightful. I thought that you would enjoy it more than meeting in town, considering you expressed your affection for long rambling country walks to me. Of course, your mother is invited as well, as chaperone.
I eagerly await your reply.
Your fiancé,
Silas Wilmington
A slow smile spread over her face. The last, lingering horror of the nightmare dissipated like smoke.
He liked her. She had not imagined it. He wanted to spend time with her, getting to know her. There was a chance. A slim chance, but a chance, nonetheless, that he might indeed put his past behind him, and embrace the possibility of what existed between them.
An upsurge of pure joy shot through her as she rushed to the desk in the corner, picking up a quill to pen her reply.
***
It was a chilly day as they made their way up the hill. Alice gazed around, her heart filled with delight. It was beautiful, exactly as he had promised her in the carriage on the way here.
He had picked her and Mama up, in his own carriage, at nine o’clock precisely. When she had asked him where they were going, he had smiled maddeningly, but had refused to name the location. He said that he wanted to surprise her.
She wrapped her black cloak around her to fend off the wind as she drank in the view. From this high up, she could see the whole town of Bath spread out like a picnic before them. She stopped, quite suddenly, her eyes bright, as she gazed at it.
“It is truly wondrous,” she said slowly. “From this vantage point, it looks rather like a doll’s village. I can even see the streets, and figures walking along them. They look like black ants.”
Silas laughed, coming closer so he could gaze out as well. “I have stood here admiring this view many times, but I have never thought of it quite like that before.” He glanced at her sideways. “You are quite detailed in your description. You have a vivid imagination.”
A blush crept over her face. “You say you have come here many times,” she said. “It is a favourite walk of yours, then?”
Her eyes scanned the countryside eagerly. Beyond the town there were fields of muted green, with grey stone fences sprinkled with white snow, like fairy dust. She saw white sheep grazing in clusters. It was simply magical.
He nodded. “Yes, it is a favourite spot. I have been coming here since I was a child. Sometimes alone, but often with my family, or friends.” He paused. “What I love about it is the fact that you feel as if you are entirely remote, cut off from the world, but it is all an illusion. The town and civilisation are not far away at all. That is the magic of it.”
Alice nodded, her cheeks burning. “I understand why you love it so. It is like an oasis, is it not, from the world. A great spot to come and reflect in nature.” She smiled at him. “Now that you have shown me, I will come here by myself as well, when I want to be alone and envelop myself underneath that cloak of illusion that civilisation is far, far away.”
He gazed down at her, a strange look on his face. There was a moment’s silence. Alice dragged her eyes away from him with difficulty, feeling as though she were being cast under a spell.
She glanced behind her. Mama was in the far distance, stopping to pick some straggly wildflowers, probably the last of the season. She was trying very hard to give them some privacy, while still observing the rules of chaperonage.
Silas coughed into his hand. “Shall we continue? There is lots more to see. A rather lovely stream, and an abandoned hut where we can rest, if you and your mother feel weary.”
Alice smiled, nodding, feeling a deep happiness settle over her. Somehow, even though her mother was here with them, she felt as though they were alone, and explorers together of a brand-new world. A new world of possibility where the past was swept away entirely.
***
He led her higher, ambling. She knew that he would have walked quicker, if she wasn’t there, and was deliberately slow for her and her mother’s sake.
Up here it was even more magical. Most trees had shed their leaves for the long winter that was coming and looked like dry, spindly skeletons, their branches hanging like bony fingers above them. But there were still evergreen trees with greenery on them. And there were rocks, large and bulbous, shrubs, and a few spindly flowers, the last of the season.
Abruptly, he stopped, pointing to the branch of a high tree. “Look. A squirrel eating an acorn.”