"Enough about me," Alice said in an attempt to change the subject. "We have been talking about me and all these rumors since you both arrived. Tell me about you, Lavinia. Are you enjoying the Season?"
Lavinia looked very reluctant to change the subject, but she sat back and mellowed. "I attended the Patterson ball last week, but it was so crowded that I felt as if I might suffocate. Even the walls were crowded. This season is something else."
Alice leaned in with a smile on her face. "But have you danced at all? Surely there must be one or two gentlemen eager to have your hand."
Lavinia’s cheeks flushed as she shook her head. "I… I managed a dance or two, but it was hardly enjoyable."
"Are we truly talking about the season when thetonthinks that Alice is dead?" Emma interjected.
Alice threw her head back and groaned. "Just leave it be, Emma. We hardly ever see each other and I don’t want to spend the rest of this time talking about what other people are saying. I would much rather talk about you and Lavinia."
"I understand why talking about it might be uncomfortable for you, Alice, but I insist that you dispel these rumors before they completely ruin you," Emma said. "The Crowell Ball is coming up. Have you considered attending?"
Alice never liked social gatherings, so in a way, she was comfortable in her isolation at Ravenmoor. There were no judgmental stares, no whispered gossip, and she didn’t have to meet any stifling expectations. Those days were behind her. It was liberating, even if it came at the cost of loneliness. Atleast here, in her sanctuary, she could focus on her own affairs, uninterrupted by the world that once held her captive.
"It is almost as if you like living in this gigantic estate alone," Lavinia said. "People go mad when left in solitude for too long."
"Technically, I’m not alone," Alice replied with a faint smile. "I have Roberts, the butler, Agatha... my maids. It’s truly not that terrible."
"You’re building an orangery, Alice," Emma pointed out. "You have sufficient time on your hands to build an orangery from scratch. If you were planning balls, or even attending some, perhaps you wouldn’t feel the need to pour your energy into these endless projects."
Alice looked away, her fingers tracing the armrest of her chair. "Balls and those gatherings were never my style, Emma. You both know that."
"But these things are expected of you. You are the Duchess of Ravenmoor and you have never hosted any social event in two years. You have been quiet. If Lavinia and I didn’t come all the way down here to visit, we would have believed the rumors that you were dead," Emma noted.
Alice rose to her feet and strolled over to the window, her fingers lightly brushing the drapes as she looked out at the gathering storm clouds. She was about to say something when Roberts entered the drawing room, diverting her attention to him.
"My apologies, Your Grace," Roberts said with a slight bow. "His Grace has returned. His carriage has just arrived at the estate."
"What?" was all she managed to say.
She glanced at Emma and Lavinia, panic rising in her chest. "I need to go," she said quickly. "I’ll speak to you both later."
Her friends exchanged worried looks and rose to their feet but said nothing as she hurried out of the room. Alice rushed down the staircase, her heart pounding louder with each step.
She reached the bottom of the staircase and paused, nerves fluttering wildly in her stomach. The door to the drawing room was slightly ajar. Taking a deep breath, she pushed it open and stepped inside.
Victor stood near the window, his back to her.
"How do you do, wife," he said, his voice low and menacing. A twisted grin curled on his lips that instantly sent chills down Alice’s spine.
The last time she had seen that look on his face was on their wedding day when he realized she feared him. He looked like a man on a mission, and Alice froze in fear, wondering what he was doing here after two whole years.
