She turned toward the wall again. I moved to stand beside her, watching the side of her face as she studied every corner of the painting. I had shown her my progress at the beginning but had left the rest a surprise. The depth of her countenance couldn’t be properly depicted on a flat surface, but I had tried to show the kindness in her eyes, mingling it with the fiery strength that was difficult to portray. I had painted her lips curved in a soft smile. I couldn’t imagine her likeness being in an ever-serious state. It didn’t suit her, even though she so often tried to look stern.
“I know the quality isn’t consistent with the other portraits,” I said in a rushed voice, “but I intend to commission a three-quarter length for you as soon as possible.”
She shook her head. “No…I love this one. I told you before how I feel about gifts.”
She didn’t have to clarify; I recalled what she meant. That day in the souvenir shop, she had said that it isn’t the grandeur of a gift that matters, but the intent and effort.
“You spent hours on this.” Her gaze wandered back to my face. “I shall treasure it always.”
Warmth spread through my chest. I hadn’t expected her to appreciate it that much.
I smiled. “This isn’t the only gift I have for you this morning.” I extended my arm for her to take.
Her eyes rounded. She gave me a curious look before wrapping her hand around my elbow. “Must I wear the blindfold again?”
“Not this time. I should like to keep my toes intact.”
She laughed, but still shot me a glare as she followed my lead down to the vestibule.
“Are we going to be late for church?” She glanced at the clock on the nearest wall. Today would be our first public appearance as a married couple, and Alice’s first opportunity to be introduced to several of our neighbors.
“Perhaps we should be,” I said. “It might cause yet another scandal.”
She shrugged. “I should like that very much. I am not fond of these women already if they have been unkind to Margaret.”
I smiled. I loved how defensive she had become of my sister. “They have never done anything directly malicious toward her. What vexes me most is that they sympathized so deeply with my mother. I have no wish to invite any of them inside Southcliff Manor.”
Alice’s eyes hardened. “Nor do I.”
Again, a smile pulled on my mouth.
In the vestibule, Alice put on her gloves and a bonnet with yellow flowers. The late summer weather had begun to show the first signs of autumn, a slight chill drifting through the seams of the front door. Alice twisted her hands together with a nervous look. “I suspect we will be the center of attention today. Do you think the women will attempt to befriend me? I wonder if they might ignore me altogether.”
“Surely you will be better off for it.” I gave her a reassuring smile. “But since I know how you tend to become rather overwhelmed in churches…” I reached inside my jacket and withdrew the fan I had purchased in Brighton. “This is for you—in the instance that you become faint again.”
Her jaw lowered, but then she laughed, snatching the fan from my hand. “I told you I never faint. That was a very rare occurrence. Marrying you so suddenly was the only cause of my faintness that day.” She opened the fan, examined the scenic drawing of Brighton. “We were surrounded by gossipmongers in the churchyard too, so I suppose that might have had something to do with it.”
“You must try not to care what they think of you today,” I said. “It doesn’t matter.”
She fluttered the fan with a serious look. “I don’t enjoy being perceived as scandalous. Everyone at church will see me as such if they’ve heard the details of our marriage.”
I laughed, sweeping my gaze over the soft curve of her cheek. I wanted to touch her face, to reassure her, but my hand remained pinned at my side. What if she didn’t want me to? I was a coward when it came to Alice. My heart ached, but I pushed away the feeling. I smiled instead. “Then let us convince them all that we are madly in love. Let them believe our marriage wasn’t forced at all.”
Her eyes flew up to mine, then down to the floor. “That might be difficult.”
“Why?”
She adjusted her gloves, a hint of color rising to her cheeks. She didn’t answer my question, but instead posed her own. “How do you suggest we convince them?”
I extended my arm in her direction again, feeling a sudden wave of courage. “Leave it to me.”
She shot me a suspicious look before taking my elbow. As we took our seats in the waiting carriage, I noticed a blush on her cheeks. That was encouraging, at least. I watched the color fade slowly as we made our way down the road toward the church.
The small stone building came into view a few minutes later. Kent was not Brighton. Its congregation was smaller, its scrutiny sharper. Today we would be displayed before them like curiosities in a glass case. It didn’t bother me like I knew it might bother Alice. I was accustomed to scrutiny, thought I wished she didn’t have to be subjected to it. A surge of protectiveness rose up in my chest as we stepped out of the carriage and made our way toward the churchyard. It wasn’t enough to have Alice’s hand on my arm. I wrapped my opposite hand over her fingers.
She threw me a shy look. “Does the act begin now?” she whispered.
My heart stung a little. What was an act to her, was far too real to me. Perhaps I shouldn’t have made the suggestion to pretend we were in love, but it was too late.
