Page 51 of To Steal a Kiss

“Oh!” Alice exclaimed, horrified. “Oh, no indeed, Mr Stanhope. I beg you will not trouble yourself. I ought not to have run off alone like that, and I assure you I won’t again, so he’ll not have another opportunity, but I could not bear for you to be hurt or at odds with your father on my account.”

“Well, someone ought to do something,” Henry muttered, folding his arms and looking mutinous.

Alice turned as Kitty laid a hand on her arm. The girl had been silent since Alice arrived, and Alice had yet to muster courage enough to beg her pardon. Heaven alone knew what Kitty thought of her.

“You argued with your parents, Alice?” she said quietly. “Over me?”

Alice swallowed and reached to take Kitty’s hand. “Kitty, I’ve never been more mortified in my life. They had no right… I would never have believed….”

Kitty gave a little huff of laughter that had little humour to it. “It’s far from an unusual reaction, Alice, don’t worry. My uncle would have me rid myself of my accent, but….” She paused, two high spots of colour burning on her cheeks. “Why should I?” she demanded, defiant as she stared back at Alice. “I’m no different from you, or Harriet. Why should I change?”

“You shouldn’t have to,” Alice replied, her voice firm. “You’re lovely and clever and full of life and I’m proud to have you as my friend, Kitty. That is… if you can forgive me for—”

“Forgive you?” Kitty exclaimed, looking at her with wide eyes. “Alice, you confronted your parents, argued with them to defend me. No one has ever….” She stopped as her voice broke and Alice gasped as Kitty flung her arms about her neck. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Feeling rather exhausted by the events of this extraordinary evening, Alice could do no more than hug her in return. “Of course, Kitty. That’s what friends are for.”

Harriet insisted that Alice eat something before they returned her to her parents. Once the meal was done, however, they left Aunt Nell with Kitty and Harriet, and Henry escorted Alice back to find her parents.

***

For the entirety of the journey back home, Alice was soundly scolded for her behaviour. She was a disappointment and they were shocked and saddened by her bold tongue. Alice endured it all until her father spoke.

“I think you have proven to us that the sooner we get you married to Mr Bindley the better it will be for all concerned. Perhaps he can instil some degree of good behaviour into you, as everything we have taught you seem to have come to naught.”

Alice’s heart stuttered in her chest.

“I shall never marry Mr Bindley,” she said, her voice faint but firm. “In fact, I shall tell you a little about Mr Bindley, Father. When I was looking for my friends, he discovered me and he… he hurt me. He manhandled me in the most lewd and disrespectful manner and, if not for the intervention of the Marquess of Montagu, he would have dragged me into some quiet part of the garden and….” Her voice faltered, but she forced the words out, determined that her parents should know what their choice of husband would have done to her. “And his intentions were certainly not honourable.”

“That’s what you get for going off alone,” her mother said, shaking her head in disgust. “Of course he thought you were open to his advances. You are soon to be engaged and he discovered you alone, what else was he to think?”

Alice gasped, staring at her mother in shock. “B-But Mother, this was not some romantic interlude! He grabbed hold of me, handled me with violence and impropriety and said vile, disgusting things.”

“For heavens’ sake, Alice,” her father said impatiently. “A young man of Mr Bindley’s age will no doubt be enthusiastic in his advances. It is to be expected, and a gently bred young lady would no doubt be shocked by it, but there is no point in being so missish about the affair. You’ll be married soon enough.”

Alice stared between her parents in bewildered horror, her heart thudding so hard she felt nauseous and light-headed. There was no reason to be had here, she realised. If she protested, they would only accuse her of becoming hysterical. Her parents would not shield her from a man like Bindley; indeed, the sooner they could hand her into his keeping, the better they would like it.

Memories of Nate, of his tenderness and his passion filled her memory. He said he was insane with desire and love for her, yet he had never kissed her or touched her without asking her permission, and he had stopped the moment she showed the slightest indication of being unsure. He had always treated her with respect and never hurt her, never made her afraid. He would do anything to keep her safe, she knew that instinctively. She trusted him, she realised. She trusted him with her safety, with her happiness.

With a numb acceptance, she endured the rest of the journey home, listening to her parents' plan when Father would speak with Mr Bindley to accept his suit so he could begin calling on Alice. A short engagement would suit everybody, by all accounts.

Panic lingered just beneath her skin, and she knew that it would take little to send her into hysterics, but she held on tightly to an outward show of calm. She would see Nate tomorrow. Everything would be fine. They would find a way forward.

Somehow, she held her tongue until they got home. As they climbed the stairs to bed, Alice turned to her mother.

“I’ll be going out with Miss Stanhope tomorrow, Mother. She and her aunt and her brother are going for a walk in Kensington Gardens.”

Her mother frowned a little. “Her brother is Henry Stanhope?” she queried. “He’s a good friend of the Earl of St Clair, isn’t he?”

Alice nodded, her hopes sparking that perhaps her mother’s ambitions might allow her to get out of the house. “Indeed, I understand the earl will accompany us, as well as Miss Minerva Butler. She’s the Duchess of Bedwin’s cousin.”

“Yes, in that case you may attend,” her mother said with a gracious smile that set Alice’s teeth on edge. “However, I do hope you will comport yourself with more grace and dignity than you have managed this evening.”

“Yes, Mother,” Alice said, tamping down a barrage of unhelpful emotions as she turned and hurried to her bedchamber before the woman could change her mind.

Chapter 16

But Harry, how can you speak so of St Clair? He’s so charming and positively swoon-worthy. You’re so lucky to have a brother with such eligible friends.