Alice's Arranged Marriage (Home for Christmas Book 1)

by Joyce Alec

  Charles groaned and ran one hand over his face, thinking to himself that this evening was nothing less than a disaster.

  “You have a good deal of mending to do,” the duke finished with a wry smile. “Although quite what it will take to ensure that Miss Jones forgives your harsh words, I cannot say.” He shrugged and turned his gaze away, leaving Charles to stare after his betrothed’s retreating back. He felt as though he were sinking into a mire of confusion, doubt, and trouble—and quite how he was to make his way out of it again, Charles had very little idea indeed.

  5

  “And so the first banns have been called.”

  Alice sighed heavily and looked away from the duchess and into the flames of the fire, feeling her heart sinking within her instead of lifting with hope and joy. “Yes,” she murmured dully, hardly able to believe that she had been here a little over a week now. “The first banns were called yesterday and now we have two weeks until the final banns.”

  “Only a day or so after Christmas Day!” the duchess exclaimed, a brightness in her eyes. “What day are you to wed, do you know?”

  Alice shook her head, still not looking back at the duchess.

  “I must presume from your manner that you have no enjoyment at the thought of marrying Lord Allerton,” the duchess said quietly, the excitement fading from her voice. “Do you not find him agreeable?”

  Forcing her gaze back toward the duchess, Alice considered for a moment. The duchess had been very kind to her ever since they had first met, and she had been almost protective in the way she had removed Alice from Lord Allerton’s presence upon overhearing what he had said of her. Since then, she had made arrangements to either call upon Alice or have Alice visit her, and they had spent time in each other’s company every single day.

  Only a few days previously, Alice had called at the designated time, only to find the duchess had arranged for a dancing master to attend them both. Alice had been a little overwhelmed, but the dancing master was very gracious and had helped ensure that she was able to dance at least three dances without hesitation. The duchess had clarified almost everything to her as regarded polite society and with such careful and succinct explanations, Alice now felt a good deal more at ease going forward. Indeed, the duchess had been a greater help than either Lady Fossett or Lord Allerton. Lady Fossett was still very much disinclined toward Alice and did not even attempt to hide it from her, whilst Lord Allerton had been conspicuously absent. That being the case, however, Alice was finally beginning to feel as though she had a friend here in England—although, in the letter she had written to her parents detailing such a thing, she knew that they might struggle to believe it. She, now friends with a duchess of England? It was quite impossible to believe and yet it was perfectly true.

  “I—I do not find Lord Allerton to be cruel or tedious, if that is what you mean,” she said bluntly, daring a glance toward Lady Fossett who was, it seemed, sleeping soundly in her chair. Lady Fossett was often determined to be present at the duchess’ meetings with Alice, but of late, had been falling into a sound sleep in her chair. The weather had turned very cold and Alice considered it was, mayhap, the warmth from the fire and the cozy shawls that encouraged Lady Fossett toward slumber. Not that she found it either rude or bothersome, for it was much easier to speak openly when the lady was asleep.

  “He is not cruel, certainly,” the duchess agreed. “Thoughtless, perhaps?”

  Again, Alice hesitated. “Yes, I should think that to be true,” she acknowledged slowly. “But perhaps it is unintentional? I know that I have embarrassed him greatly on one or two occasions with my lack of propriety or my failure to behave or speak as I am expected to do and so I cannot find it in my heart to be angry with him in that regard.”

  The duchess sighed heavily, shaking her head. “Lord Allerton is dear friends with my own husband, as you know,” she said as a few stray curls, almost white in their fairness, danced about her temples. “But even the duke himself is aware that Lord Allerton has not behaved kindly toward you. He should have given you a good deal more consideration and certainly shown much more compassion and understanding than he has done. I am surprised that my husband’s encouragements in such things have made no difference.” Her expression grew all the more concerned. “He has not changed in these last few days, then?”

  Alice swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to speak honestly without allowing a single tear to fall from her eyes. “I have barely seen Lord Allerton,” she answered slowly. “I have heard from Lady Fossett that he has gone to various social engagements, but has chosen not to have me accompany him.” Her eyes began to sting with tears. She held them back and took in a shaky breath instead. “I can understand that, of course, but still—”

  “No, indeed not, Miss Jones!” the duchess exclaimed, interrupting her. “There is no reason for such a thing to occur. Lord Allerton is to be your husband and he ought not to be keeping you hidden away here. He is meant to be encouraging you to become acquainted with all manner of things here in London and you cannot do that by remaining at home each evening.” She sighed heavily, although there was a glint of anger in her eyes. “I did wonder why I had not seen you two nights ago at Lord Wellerson’s ball, when Lord Allerton himself was present. I presumed you were simply tired or unwell, but to know that he simply did not ask you to join him is quite unacceptable.”

  “I have not managed to make my way to a seamstress and Lady Fossett has only ordered me two new gowns,” Alice protested weakly, as though she wanted to find some way to defend her husband—which made very little sense to her own mind. “Perhaps he did not think me suitably dressed.”

  The duchess sliced the air with her hand. “You need not try to find an excuse for him, Miss Jones,” she answered firmly. “That is inappropriate and inconsiderate, regardless of his reasons for doing so. After all, it is not as though you are unwilling to make any changes, for I have seen you trying very hard to do all that is expected of you and I am aware of your determination to do what you must in order to learn.”

  Alice nodded, blinking her tears back. “You are very kind, Your Grace,” she answered softly, knowing that her composure was very close to falling apart completely. “I do not think I would have managed to remain here if you had not been so gracious to me.”

  “Then you must call me Susanna,” the duchess said with a warm smile. “But only when we are alone, as we are at the present.” Her head tipped a little to the left. “Do you understand?”

  Alice nodded, thinking that this lady really was very kind indeed. “Thank you, Susanna,” she said, a small smile now replacing her sorrow. “Yes, I understand. I won’t…” She trailed off, wincing. “I mean, I will not refer to you as Susanna in company.”

  “Very good,” the duchess laughed, although a slight anger remained in her expression. “And as for your gowns, I insist that you attend with me someday soon to go to my very own dressmaker. She is quite wonderful and will be delighted with a new lady to dress.” She smiled brightly. “And does your trousseau look to be completed soon?”

  Alice swallowed hard, daring another glance toward Lady Fossett in case she had awakened and was about to begin bearing down on Alice in her usual manner. Fortunately, it appeared that the lady was still sound asleep. “I—I fear that Lady Fossett is still praying that the marriage will not occur,” she said, a little sadly. “I have had no particular willingness from Lady Fossett to help me in that regard.”

  There was a moment of silence and Alice could see that the duchess was struggling to contain her emotions. Her lips twitched, her brows lowered, and she let out a long, slow breath but still said nothing. Alice waited quietly, her stomach twisting with a sharp anxiety that stole her breath. Was the duchess about to tell her that she should have gone about arranging for her trousseau without Lady Fossett? She had not known what to do.

  “I,” the duchess began, speaking very slowly so that she might keep her voice steady, “I will help you with your troussea
u, Alice. It will be required very soon so we must start at once. I shall call at one or two places on my return home.” Her smile returned, although it was still rather tight. “You need have no concern in that regard.”

  Alice swallowed her anxiety, feeling her limbs begin to free themselves from their tension. “You are very kind, Susanna. Truly.”

  “Then it is settled,” the duchess said firmly, just as a maid came in with a tea tray. “Now, are you ready to practice pouring the tea?” She laughed at Alice’s dark expression, who had found it almost incomprehensible as to why a young lady such as herself had to learn a specific way to pour tea from the teapot into small china cups. There was a perfect technique that was expected from her and, as the duchess herself had explained, just because she did not much care for tea did not mean that she could excuse herself from such a duty.

  Sighing heavily, Alice waited until the maid had set down the tea tray before waving her away.

  “Oh, and this came for you, Miss Jones,” the maid whispered, handing Alice a small note, before bobbing a quick curtsy and scurrying from the room, shooting Lady Fossett a quick glance as she went. Alice frowned, looking down at the note and turning it over to look at the seal.

  There was none. Instead, there was simply a small amount of plain red wax keeping the note closed, which surprised her. Surely anyone writing to her would have a seal on the wax? And it could not be from her parents, given that their letter would appear very different to the note she now held in her hand.

  The duchess’ gentle clearing of the throat brought Alice back to the present. Blushing furiously, she looked up at her friend, who had one eyebrow a little arched and a small smile on her face.

  “I am sorry,” Alice said quickly, putting the note into her pocket and turning her attention back toward the tea tray. “I know that I am not to permit myself to become distracted by other things and should be focusing entirely on my guests—or guest, as it is at the moment.”

  The duchess laughed quietly, so as not to wake Lady Fossett. “I quite understand,” she replied, making Alice’s embarrassment fade quickly. “It would not be the first time that a young lady has received a note and thereafter become quite distracted by what might be contained within.” She gestured to the tea tray, her eyes bright with good humor. “But we must concentrate on the task at hand and not allow ourselves to become distracted.”

  “Of course,” Alice said, looking down at the tea tray with a grim expression. She was determined to conquer this, so that she might be able to pour tea just as well as any young debutante of London. “Now, shall I begin?”

  It was not until the duchess had taken her leave and the tea tray was cleared away that Alice was able to turn her attention back toward the note. She had almost forgotten entirely about it, given the very enjoyable conversation she and the duchess had shared, but now that she was almost entirely alone—save for the still sleeping figure of Lady Fossett in her chair by the fire—Alice was able to read it without distraction.

  Her heart beat a little more quickly as she pulled the note from her pocket, turning it over again to see the blank seal, as though she might have been mistaken in her recollection of it. Frowning, she snapped it open at once and unfolded the paper carefully.

  The very first few words made her heart sink low in her chest, her embarrassment beginning to wash over her as the harsh, cruel words continued.

  ‘You bring nothing but shame to this family’s good name,’ the note said, without any sort of introduction. ‘You are ill mannered, unrefined, and entirely unwilling to improve your behavior, it seems. Your blunt way of speaking, your forgetfulness of the very simplest of manners, and your crude attempts to behave as other English misses is nothing short of mortifying.’

  That was all the note said. Alice felt hot, stinging tears begin to creep into the corners of her eyes as she sat back in her chair, the note still held loosely in her hand. Someone had deemed it fit to write to her, to express themselves in such a cruel, horrific manner so that she might feel the full extent of their disinclination toward her.

  Her heart jolted in her chest as she recalled the way the note had begun. Frantically, her eyes scanned the note again, realizing, with horror, that it mentioned ‘this family’.

  That referred to Lord Allerton’s family, then. Which meant that, most likely, it was either Lord Allerton himself or Lady Fossett who had written such a note.

  Her eyes closed tightly and she rested her head back against the chair, refusing to allow even a single tear to escape from her. Lord Allerton was not as cruel as all that, surely? He would not have written her something so dreadful, not when he could easily just speak to her face to face.

  But he has gone to events without you, said a small, insistent voice. He has not wanted to be seen with you by his side.

  Alice shook her head and rubbed her forehead with her fingers, crumpling up the note in the other hand. Lord Allerton had been making it more than plain that she was not what he had expected and had been rather rude in his unwillingness to take her to social events, as he was meant to do, but to write her an unsigned note was surely not something he would do. But, she considered, opening her eyes and staring firmly into the flickering flames, just how well did she really know him?

  Rising from her chair, Alice threw the note into the fireplace, watching it catch almost at once and begin to burn. As she returned to her seat, her eyes traveled toward Lady Fossett, who was still asleep in her chair. The lady had made no attempt to hide her disregard for Alice, given that she spoke more bluntly than anyone else in Alice’s acquaintance—and perhaps even more than Alice herself. Why, then, would Lady Fossett write such a note when it was quite apparent that she could speak her mind without any qualms? Yes, she had stated that Lord Allerton should not marry Alice and had openly questioned his decision to do so, but she had done that without even attempting to hide it from Alice herself. To Alice’s mind, it would be very strange indeed for her to then write a note such as this, leave the house, and have it delivered from somewhere else. Besides which, Lady Fossett had been in the house for the entirety of the day thus far, she was quite sure—unless she had risen very early.

  The ache in her throat began to grow steadily, paining Alice all the more. Those words had cut her deeply, more deeply than she even wanted to admit to herself. She had to be strong, she reminded herself. She had to show courage and determination to rise above the difficulties that now faced her, so that she might find her way forward into marriage with Lord Allerton. That was her future. The banns had already been called, which meant that in only a few weeks’ time, she would be Lady Allerton.

  Married to a gentleman she barely knew. A gentleman who did not want to accompany her to any social occasions for fear that she might make some sort of mistake and embarrass him, even though she was doing her very best to improve. He had called on her infrequently this last week, to the point that she saw more of the duchess than of her betrothed. Was this note meant to be his way of removing her from his presence, so that the ending of their engagement was her doing, rather than his?

  She bit her lip, hard. Was there something that Lord Allerton would gain from her ending their engagement and returning to America? Unaware of the specifics of the agreement between her father and Lord Allerton, Alice realized that she did not know what particulars had been arranged, wondering if there would be some benefit still to Lord Allerton if she was to return to America unmarried.

  “Lord Allerton.”

  Starting in surprise, Alice rose quickly from her chair, turning just as Lord Allerton walked toward her, one hand outstretched in greeting.

  Unwillingly, she offered him her hand and he bent over it, as he had done each time he had greeted her.

  “Miss Jones,” he said with a small smile that did not reach his eyes. “I thought to call upon you this afternoon.”

  Alice said nothing, her eyes fixed upon his own blue ones and wondering if the stormy sea she saw within was an indication of
the struggles going on in his mind.

  “My aunt is about, I hope?”

  Gesturing to the sleeping lady in the chair, Alice stepped back from Lord Allerton and took her seat again, knowing that there was no need to remain standing. “She is resting, Lord Allerton,” she answered, a trifle stiffly, feeling a slice of anger enter her heart.

  “I hope you have not had a lonely afternoon,” he replied in what sounded to Alice like an almost cheerful tone. Sitting back in his chair, he looked about the room with apparent disinterest in her, making her grow all the more upset. Had he been the one to send the note? Or was she truly mistaken in her thinking?

  “I have had the Duchess of Sussex calling on me,” she answered, seeing how his brows rose in surprise. “In fact, she has called on me most days. I have been very glad of her company.” She allowed nothing more to be said but let the words hang in the air, making it quite plain that she felt as though Lord Allerton had been absent in his supposed attentions. Lord Allerton clearly recognized what remained unsaid, for he cleared his throat gruffly and shifted uncomfortably in his chair, removing his gaze from her and staring at the fire instead.

  “It will not be long until we are wed,” he murmured with no hint of joy in his voice. “And before that, it will be Christmas Day.” He glanced at her, a question in his eyes. “We shall have a double celebration.”

  Again, Alice saw that there was no hint of happiness, eagerness, or hope in his eyes or in his expression. Instead, there was a mere calm acceptance that such a thing was to take place—although Alice suspected that there was more to what he felt than he permitted to be displayed in his expression.

  “Might I ask,” she said, a little tartly, “whether you will gain any financial benefit if the engagement comes to an end?”

  She watched him closely, seeing how his eyes widened in surprise and how his gaze snapped toward hers. He was taken aback by her question, yes, but was it simply because of what she had asked or because she had stumbled toward the truth?