I nodded.
The bridge of her nose wrinkled, and the adoring smile she gave me made my stomach flip over. She had never given me that look before, but now I would dream of it. Her hand tightened around my arm, pulling me closer.
She was an excellent actress.
The observation raised alarms in my head. She had pretended to like me before—that day we had ridden horses on the Steine with her brother and Miss Lyons. ‘Her plan’ had been underway, and she had almost executed it perfectly. I tried to push away my worries, but they clung to me as we stepped inside the old church.
The air was cool, and it smelled faintly of damp stone. Alice walked beside me down the narrow aisle, her head held high despite the dozens of eyes fixed upon her. I recognizedseveral of the faces, though I didn’t linger long on any of them. The neighborhood thought me reclusive and opposed to socialization…which was not entirely untrue. When I attended church alone, I was always greeted with polite questions, though they never felt genuine.
But with my new wife on my arm, I could already sense the deep curiosity of every single person in the pews. They were measuring Alice—scrutinizing her—surely speculating about how our marriage had come about.
We slid into a pew halfway down. The oak creaked beneath us.
“That was dreadful,” Alice whispered. “I wonder what they are thinking.”
My heart pounded. The boldness I had felt earlier that morning returned, especially with so many eyes watching us. I leaned close to her ear until my lips nearly touched it. “They are thinking about how beautiful you look.”
Her cheeks flamed, which had been my goal. If they were observant at all, the gossipmongers would have to assume I had said something flirtatious.
Alice turned to face me, a nervous smile hovering on her lips. “No, they are not.”
I dipped my head close to hers again, that maddening scent of citrus and sugar rising to my nose. I lowered my voice. “Well, it’s what I was thinking of.”
Her eyes widened, her gaze dropping away from mine. I debated pressing a kiss to her cheek. I stopped myself just in time. That would have been too much. Instead, I reached over to her lap and took her hand, pressing a kiss to the back of her glove.
I caught a whisper from behind us, as well as a few sideways glances from across the aisle. I didn’t let go of Alice’s fingers as I set her hand back where I had found it in her lap, tracing a slowcircle over the place I had kissed, then across her knuckles. After a few seconds, she melted against my arm and shoulder, leaning close as the rector stepped up behind the pulpit.
The service carried on—hymns, prayers, a sermon on steadfastness in the face of trial—but I heard little of it. I was far too distracted.
The finalamensechoed, and a young girl in the row behind whispered too loudly, “Is she very rich, Mama?” which drew a hush. The congregation seemed to have been just as distracted by Alice throughout the sermon as I was. Across the aisle, two elderly ladies bent their bonnets together, lips moving furiously as they stole glances in her direction.
I already knew there would be many people who were eager for an introduction, so I forced myself to put on a polite smile, though it pained me to do so. Alice held firmly to my arm as we took our leave to the sunlit yard. We lingered near the porch, offering the requisite greetings. Alice’s manners seemed to charm most of the parish, though they all still gathered in clusters to whisper on the outskirts of the grass.
Alice’s friendly nature soon had her drawn into conversation with a cluster of elderly ladies, leaving me momentarily alone.
That was when Lady Fenton approached. I hardly knew the woman, but that she had once been a friend of my mother’s. Her family’s estate exceeded mine in land and profit, and her husband’s status as an earl demanded that I treat her with civility. Compared to many others, she had been generous in her treatment of Margaret, often sending books and dolls and other well-wishes.
“Mr. Croft,” she greeted, lowering her head. Her eyes glinted with delight beneath the brim of her grey bonnet. “Your bride has made quite the impression. She has such a fresh face. Delightful to look upon.”
I forced a polite smile. “You are kind to say so, my lady.”
She leaned closer, her tone lowering. “And such fine taste. Why, I passed by Mrs. Harker’s shop only yesterday and was struck by the sight of the many bolts of fabric being carried in. A great many gowns ordered, I was told…almost as though your wife were outfitting herself anew for a season.”
A faint chill prickled down my spine. Why had Alice not told me about her extensive shopping? “Is that so?” I asked evenly, though my pulse had quickened.
Lady Fenton laughed, touching my arm with her gloved fingers. “Oh, it is nothing, of course. Every bride indulges in a little extravagance. And with your inheritance, well, a gentleman may afford such whims. She is fortunate, indeed.”
She bowed her head, then drifted off toward another knot of parishioners, leaving me rooted where I stood. I shook the suspicions from my mind, forcing myself to think reasonably. I wanted Alice to be comfortable, and to have all that she needed. But she understood how I felt about the use of my inheritance. Why would she behave so frivolously? It didn’t make sense, yet my stomach still sank with dread.
I glanced at Alice, where she laughed softly with one of the vicar’s daughters. A pang of disappointment struck my chest. Perhaps Lady Fenton had been wrong, and it hadn’t been Alice who had ordered all the gowns. I would have to send for the bill from the modiste to find out.
That was the only way I could know for certain.
A few minutes later, after Alice’s lengthy conversations had finally ended, we returned to the carriage and rode away from the churchyard. Alice settled into her seat across from me, her gloved hands folded in her lap. “That wasn’t as dreadful as I feared,” she said with a small smile. “They were curious, of course, but everyone seemed quite kind.”
My brow twitched. Just before coming to church, Alice had acted as if she would take up arms against all the women at church, and now they were ‘kind’?
“I am glad they were kind to you.” I stared down at the floor, fighting the emotions in my chest. Lady Fenton’s insinuations refused to leave my mind. I tried to put the conversation from my thoughts, but it lingered like a burn wound, stinging and itching inside me.
