New Beginnings Spring 20 Book Box Set

by Hope Sinclair

  Alice was suddenly started from her thoughts when she heard the heavy tremble of the front doors opening. She quickly cleaned the sticky remnants of dough from her hands and slipped out of the kitchen.

  ***

  It seemed that the hunt had done a great deal of good for the relationship between Mr. Bell and Charles. They weren’t entirely friendly (Alice couldn’t imagine they ever would be), but they were certainly on better terms than they had been. It seemed that Charles had made a real effort to get in her father’s good graces, and now his efforts were being rewarded. Mr. and Mrs. Bell both seemed far less critical of the man, and had instead seemed to enjoy his company at the dinner table.

  Alice imagined that that would all change, once they knew the truth. But that wasn’t something to dwell on… not now, anyway.

  They were in the middle of a polite conversation regarding education, when suddenly a maid slipped into the room. Mr. Bell, not noticing at first, continued rambling with his mouth full of food, until he noticed everyone staring up at the woman curiously. Finally, he turned around in his chair and bellowed, “Well, what is it?”

  “A visitor, sir,” the maid spoke apologetically.

  “Can’t you see we’re in the middle of our meal?” Mr. Bell asked impatiently. “And with our guest, Mr. Douglas, no less!”

  “I’m terribly sorry,” the maid said meekly, her eyes locked on the floor. “He insisted. He says it’s an urgent matter, pertaining to Miss Bell.”

  Alice felt all eyes suddenly shift to her, and her mouth went suddenly dry.

  Who could it possibly be? she wondered. She didn’t have any male acquaintances in San Antonio. In fact, with the exception of James, she didn’t have any male acquaintances at all!

  And that realization made her stomach suddenly drop. She realized that there was only one man it could be, only one man who could be calling on her at the Bell family plantation. And as this realization struck her, she felt suddenly faint.

  “Alice!” Mrs. Bell gasped. “You’ve gone as white as a dove!”

  “Bring him in then,” Mr. Bell barked. “If it’s so urgent that he demand to be seen at once, then he can come in here and interrupt my dinner himself!”

  “Yes, sir,” the maid nodded, slipping out of the room.

  By now Alice was confident that her heart was beating loud enough for the entire room to hear, so heavy and fierce that surely the dining table must be rattling with the same reverberations that shook through her frail body.

  She heard his heavy footsteps, and somehow she recognized them at once as his. She knew what she would see when she looked up, but when she did, she was somehow still shocked by his presence.

  There he was: James Matthews. Standing in her dining room in full uniform.

  “Hello, Alice,” he said, as if she were the only person in the room.

  And that was all it took to dissolve the last bit of fortitude that she had left. She felt her body go limp and the entire room began to spin, then everything turned white as she slumped against the stiff wooden back of the chair and slipped downwards in her seat.

  The last thing she heard was the sound of her mother gasping, the sound of china dishes shattering, and then the heavy cry of her father’s voice bellowing, “Don’t just stand there, Charles! Do something! Aren’t you a doctor?”

  TEN

  Alice might have regained consciousness more quickly if she hadn’t struck her head on the table when she fainted and fell onto the ground. Her dress had pooled around her, forming a pale pink puddle of cotton, and a small wound had cried tears of blood from the spot on her forehead where she had struck the table.

  A maid had carried her up to bed, where she had been treated with a cold cloth. It took several minutes to revive her, and even then, she was awake for only a matter of minutes before slipping back into a deep slumber.

  She didn’t wake until the following morning, when the slight pressure of weight being applied to her bed roused her from her tangled web of nightmares, and she blinked against the morning light. Her eyes adjusted slowly, and then she saw her mother.

  Mrs. Bell had never been a terribly soft woman, nor had she even been particularly maternal, though to an outsider, she might appear so. That was because she often worried and fretted over Alice’s well-being. For a while, Alice herself had interpreted this worrying as love. Only recently had she decided that it wasn’t a sign of affection at all, but rather a symptom of her mother’s own selfishness. Mrs. Bell worried about her daughter because, really, she was worried about her own reputation. She didn’t want to be the mother of a wayward daughter. She didn’t want to assume liability for her daughter’s shortcomings or failures.

  And now, glancing up from her bed as her mother’s face slowly came into focus, that was exactly what Alice saw carved into her mother’s face: a reflection of her own failures.

  All at once, Alice realized that her mother knew the truth. She could see it in her mother’s eyes, in the tight, disappointed line of her mouth.

  “I’m sorry, mother,” Alice said weakly.

  “I’m not sure where to begin,” Mrs. Bell shook her head.

  Her voice was quiet, yet somehow shrill, and Alice didn’t trust the tone of her voice. Mrs. Bell was unpredictable… and even more so when she spoke like that.

  “Imagine your father’s surprise when he learned that Mr. Matthews had come to ask for your hand in marriage, while we were sat around the dinner table entertaining your betrothed.”

  Alice gulped. There was nothing she could say, no excuse, no justification, no explanation… Listening to her mother now was her punishment to endure. It was her fault for lying in the first place, for concealing something so significant, for trying to deceive her own parents.

  “Of course you gave us all a real scare,” Mrs. Bell continued. “But once you had been taken away and put to bed, we realized that there was even more to the story. Mr. Matthews told us everything. About your indiscretions—”

  Alice winced.

  “—about the baby.”

  “Mother, I—” Alice started, but Mrs. Bell would hear none of it.

  “Once Mr. Matthews told us, it became obvious. I’m surprised we didn’t see it ourselves. As a woman, as a mother, surely my eye should be trained to detect the snug fit of a gown, the swollen bosom, the radiant skin… and I realized that I had seen all of those things. I had known right away that something was different about you, I just hadn’t been able to put a finger on what it was. And then I realized.”

  “Mother,” Alice tried again, this time blinking back a wave of hot, burning tears.

  “It all made sense,” Mrs. Bell continued. “But it still didn’t explain why you had two grooms asking for your hand, both eager to take responsibility for the child growing inside of you.”

  Alice didn’t try to interrupt her mother this time. Instead, she let out a low steady breath as the tears rolled down her cheeks, stinging her skin.

  “So your father tried to get to the bottom of it,” Mrs. Bell said. She sniffed, and her voice was completely devoid of sympathy. “At first, both men insisted that the other was an imposter. But your father… he’s a sharp, cunning man. He’s no fool, and he certainly wasn’t about to be had by the two men who came to claim his only daughter. He caught on to Mr. Douglas. First, it was the lie about being a doctor. And then one thing lead to another, and he had the whole thing figured out.”

  Alice sighed heavily. She couldn’t stand the thought of Charles fighting on her behalf, especially against her father and James. And yet the same thought that filled her with pain and anxiety also filled her with a glimmer of optimism. Charles had fought for her. He hadn’t taken the easy way out, hadn’t bowed out of his obligation, or revealed the truth, even though doing so would have been the easiest thing for him. Instead, he had stoically accepted the burden that rightfully rested on another man’s shoulders. He had accepted the accountability and consequences for another man’s sin… He had stepped up, pr
epared to face it all, for her.

  “The truth came out,” Mrs. Bell continued, “but even once he had been exposed as a liar and a fraud, Mr. Douglas remained adamant that he ask for your hand in marriage. He told your father that he loved you, and that he wanted to give you the life you deserved. He even had the audacity to suggest that Mr. Matthews, an honorable soldier and cavalry commander for the Confederate Army, had come here with poor intention!”

  “He did!” Alice said suddenly, surprising even herself with the urgency of her own voice. “Mother, James abandoned me when he learned about the baby! He chose his own career over me!”

  Mrs. Bell frowned and gazed down at her daughter. The expression on her face was a mixture of disbelief and indifference. “Hush,” Mrs. Bell said. “I’ve heard about enough about both of those men, Alice. I’m not concerned with either of them, nor do I have the time or patience to listen to your justifications or grievances.” Her voice was decidedly harsher now, strict, devoid of any softness or compassion.

  “What I care about,” she said sharply, “is how my daughter handled herself. And if one thing was made abundantly clear, it’s that the true party to blame here is you. You squandered your virtue and gave yourself to a man outside of marriage, and for that, you deserve every bit of shame and grief that you’ve encountered. The fact that you have not one, but two men willing to ask for your hand in marriage and accept this burden that you’ve brought upon yourself is a reflection of the true grace of God.”

  Alice sat quietly, feeling numb again. Her mother’s words stung, even if she didn’t believe them, even if she knew that it wasn’t entirely her own fault.

  She thought back to what Charles had said, about James being responsible. Why was it, then, that Mrs. Bell was so quick to judge her own daughter, while giving nary a second thought to the fact that James had abandoned her altogether? Wasn’t he just as guilty of taking her virtue, after all? Wasn’t he just as guilty of conceiving a child out of wedlock? And wasn’t he the one who chose to abandon the child, when Alice had been ready to face the consequences?

  “You’re wrong,” Alice said suddenly, her voice strong and defiant despite her weakened state. “James asking for my hand in marriage isn’t a favor or concession. It’s the noble thing to do, and he should have done it long ago. I haven’t done anything he hasn’t. I’m not guilty of anything he himself isn’t guilty of.”

  “Alice, stop this at once,” Mrs. Bell insisted firmly. “I won’t stand for this kind of talk. The Lord has looked kindly on you, and he’s blessed you with a second chance. I suggest you do the right thing by not squandering it.”

  “The Lord has given me a second chance,” Alice agreed. “And I don’t plan on squandering it. And that’s exactly why I intend to refuse Mr. Matthews’s offer of marriage.”

  “Alice!” Mrs. Bell gasped. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I am,” Alice said. “There’s only one man who has proven himself to be noble and pure of heart. He’s accepted me all this time, and he’s shown me true compassion. And now, hearing that he offered to take responsibility for the actions of another man… well, that just confirms it.”

  “Confirms what?”

  “That I love Charles Douglas,” Alice said, as if it was the most simple proclamation in the world. “And if he’ll have me, I’d very much like to be his bride.”

  ELEVEN

  Charles left the Bell plantation the moment the sun rose in the sky, and he had made it as far as the edge of San Antonio before he finally relented to temptation and cast a backwards glance toward the home. It was miles behind him now, but thanks to the flat dusty terrain, he was afforded a clear view of the sprawling plantation in the distance, encircled by a ring of trees.

  He felt a heavy throb in his heart as he forced himself to turn his back to the house and continue onward. This was the right thing to do, he tried to convince himself, even though there wasn’t a single part of him that believed this to be the truth.

  Charles didn’t understand the sudden flurry of emotions that consumed him, but he knew that it had started long before the confrontation with Mr. Bell and James Matthews.

  In truth, it had really started the moment that Charles realized that, in impersonating Alice’s groom, he was giving the best performance of his life… and it wasn’t a performance at all. His feelings, the words he said, the things he did… it was all genuine. Just as genuine as his desire to marry her.

  After Mr. Bell had exposed the truth—or what little bit of it he could manage to decipher, anyway—Charles had made a desperate plea.

  “I want to marry Alice,” he had begged. “I want to make this right, to give her the life she deserves, and to spend the rest of my days caring for her and the child.”

  “But it’s not your child!” Mr. Bell had bellowed, his voice almost triumphant, almost gleeful at Charles’s suffering.

  James had smiled then, too, for James had realized that he had won.

  Charles wanted to stay… wanted to leave the final decision up to Alice. But at Mr. Bell’s urging, he had agreed to leave.

  “She won’t want you here,” Mr. Bell had argued. “You’ll only confuse her more.”

  Charles wandered into San Antonio, vaguely aware of the plans and arrangements he’d need to make. He would need to book tickets for his passage back to New York… He would need to find some provisions, some food and water for the journey.

  He stepped into a general store, and upon seeing who was inside, he nearly doubled back and stepped right out. It was James.

  Charles didn’t turn back, instead he remained perfectly still and silent. James hadn’t noticed him step into the store and neither had the man that James was speaking to—a fellow soldier, also in uniform.

  “I think I’ve gotten in his good graces,” James said. “It was easier than I thought, thanks to that imbecile actor that she hired to take my place…”

  “That’s farcical,” the other man shook his head in amusement. “Did she really think she could keep that sort of charade going? What sort of man marries a pregnant woman, anyway?”

  “Me, apparently,” James laughed heartily. “But only out of necessity, of course.”

  “Of course,” the man agreed, nodding vigorously.

  “My only regret,” James said, lounging against a stack of burlap flour sacks, “Is that I didn’t piece it all together sooner. Much of this mess could have been avoided entirely if Alice had only told me who her father was.”

  “She never told you?”

  “Never,” James shook his head. “The way she alluded to her parents, you’d almost think she was ashamed of them. But then she left, and I came to find out that Mr. Bell has great ties to the Confederate Army. Befriending him could be the single most valuable strategic move to my career!”

  Charles frowned as his mind worked to assemble all of the clues. His face turned red hot, his heart pounded viciously in his chest, and then he figured it out… The only reason that James had returned for Alice was to better his own career! He was hoping to use Mr. Bell’s connections to further leverage himself up the command line.

  He hadn’t come back for Alice out of obligation or nobility or loyalty or even love… He had come back to ask for her hand because he intended to use her as a stepping-stone! As a means to bettering himself!

  Heart pounding furiously in his chest, Charles decided at once that he had to share this information with Alice. Not to better his own image in her opinion—it was too late for that, he had already decided—but so that she could at least make an informed decision, when choosing her groom.

  She needs to know, he reasoned. She deserves the truth… she deserves to know what a horrible man James Matthews is, especially if she’s to marry him!

  Charles had already made up his mind and was ready to turn on his heel and storm out of the store, when his ear caught the sound of James’s voice again.

  “—if marrying Alice is the price I have to pay,” James said. “Then so b
e it. I suppose there are uglier broads I could find myself engaged to.”

  That did it.

  Charles spun around, and without being quite aware or certain of what he was doing, he stormed through the small store, rounding the corner of a makeshift aisle constructed of grain sacks and wooden milk crates, until he found himself face to face with James Matthews himself.

  “Well, look who we have here,” James chided, his eyes twinkling with cruel delight. His mouth twisted into a smirk, and he eyed Charles up and down, clearly unimpressed.

  Charles may not have had the same rugged, inflated physique of a Confederate soldier, but he certainly had his own arsenal of secret defense moves. He had to. Growing up in New York City, he learned quickly that only the strong could survive. In place of brawn, he had quick feet. In place of muscle bulging from an inflated bicep, he had a swift punch and hard knuckles.

  And that quick pair of feet, that swift punch, and those hardened bony knuckles all came in handy in that split second, when Charles decided that he was going to punch James Matthews in the smug, sneering face.

  It happened in the blink of an eye, even Charles himself was surprised as he watched it unfold. He leveraged his body weight from the heel of one foot and onto the toes of the other. He rolled his shoulder back, feeling his arm rotate in its joint almost mechanically as it gained momentum from his body sailing forward. He clenched his fist tight, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of his palm so hard that it almost felt as though his knuckles might burst through his skin.

  And then he released all the tension, directing it into his arm, as his fist flung forward, cutting through the stale dusty air of the shop and soaring toward James’s face.

  His knuckles connected, and James’s skin felt like putty softened under the blow of the punch. His skin rippled around Charles’s fist, shaking and reverberating into tiny rings that moved outwards, just like rings spread out in the water when you’ve dropped a stone into a river.