Chapter Ten

To say her name out loud for the first time in so long felt strange yet comforting. It reminded her of the few innocent years she had in childhood where she, her parents and her brother lived in a tiny little apartment in Paris and enjoyed each other’s company.

“Alice,” James repeated after a long moment of silence. His dark blue irises were practically non-existent as his pupils had widened do much. His lips were parted and she could hear how quick his breathing was.

She so desperately wanted to trust him. She so desperately wanted him to know her, the real her, the her so few people knew.

“Alice,” Alice nodded. “Alice Devereaux.”

“Devereaux is your surname,” James nodded. “I hadn’t heard it before.” He was in disbelief. A pseudonym was clearly not what he had pictured her story would be. “Why do you use a different name?” he asked.

Alice abandoned the dishes and dried her hands on the front of her apron, holding on to it so that she could put some of her nervous energy into it. It was now or never. She had no idea how he was going to react, she just prayed that he wouldn’t run away from her. “Because if anyone knew who I was and what I had done then they could turn me into the French soldiers and I would be executed.” She didn’t want to be just another body. She would like to die in her bed when she is old and grey and not when she had life still there to live. She wanted a dignified burial, not an unmarked grave.

“You were a part of the revolution, weren’t you?” James said, clearly piecing together her comments about the revolution with the new information she had given him. His voice wasn’t understand nor was it accusing. She could not decide what he was thinking.”

Alice merely nodded, twisting her apron in her hands and looking to the ground, too afraid to meet his eyes. “My family was for decades. My grand-mèrè and grand-pèrè fought for Louis’ ‘ead all those years ago, but it went too far. I beg you not to compare me to them. The deaths were merciless and cruel. Just thinking of the awful guillotine made her shudder. She’d witnessed executions in the past with Jacques, he enjoyed them, but she couldn’t bear them. “Maman once joked about the dauphine’s death and since then I’ve always had a sense of right and wrong. The revolutionaries forgot what their fight was about.”

Taking a chance, Alice looked up at James but his face was blank. He looked like he was in shock. He probably expected her to be a poor pauper with not but a guinnea to her family’s name but there was so much more to her past, more than he could understand, she was sure.

“My grandmother remembers that revolution. She heard horrid stories. She told us. They murdered aristocrats … Alice,” James said tentatively. She couldn’t appreciate the sound of her own name when it was said so carefully. He pronounced it differently though, and she liked the English way. “Had I been there I would have been killed too. My family with me.”

Alice could feel tears forming in her eyes. That was the part that she hated. “I know. It was awful, believe me, ‘ad I been alive then I should have voiced my ‘atred of the actions. My revolution was much different, the cause was much different. I was but fifteen when we were suddenly armed and behind a barricade of furniture that the people had given us. You can’t understand what it was like. You’ve never gone ‘ungry or had to worry about infectious diseases. People were starving and dying every day and nobody cared. So we fought and we lost.” Thinking back to the haunting day, Alice felt a shudder travel down her spine. The noises of cannons, the smell of freshly fired gunpowder and the endless pools of blood all flooded her memory. It was as if the fight were yesterday and Jacques had only just been killed.

James did not speak for a while. Instead, he leant against the wooden bench and looked at the wall, as if it were incredibly fascinating. She couldn’t imagine what he was thinking. He probably thought her horrible. A murderer. But she never would and she never could kill anyone.

“I was not even supposed to be there,” Alice admitted quietly. “No women were. But my brother wanted me to be. ‘e wanted me to experience victory. It all happened so quickly. I was given a pistol and I fired it. I ‘it a solider in the arm and I immediately panicked. I believed in our cause … I still do. But that was not who I wanted to be. I couldn’t hurt anyone.” Alice felt so ashamed. She’d never seen the revolution from the point of view of an aristocrat before. She knew he was judging her, no doubt condemning her to hell where she probably belonged.

In a move that completely shocked and startled her, James quickly turned to her and wrapped his arms around her tightly. He buried his face atop her head and she could feel him scent her hair. She was frozen, not knowing what he was doing. Didn’t he hate her?

“You needn’t defend yourself to me,” he murmured against her hair. “You are completely right. I don’t know what it is like to go hungry and I hope I never shall. But if I did, I hope I would be brave enough to fight for the right to survive.”

He astounded her. How could aristocrats be so rich yet so kind? They couldn’t all be like James and his family, perhaps they were an odd family in their social circle.

“Are you being completely serious?” Alice asked as she succumbed to the feel of his hard chest. The sense of security that she got from James was like no other. She felt like nothing could hurt her when she was in his arms.

“Who am I to judge you?” James said simply. “What right have I? I know nothing of what you endured in France. If it were me I would like to think that I would have done the same thing. You are not any less of a person for fighting for what you believe in,” James promised her.

To hear such reassurance from someone who was progressively becoming more and more important to her made her feel, for the first time in a long time, somewhat less cowardly. But then again, she wasn’t fighting for what she believed in, not anymore. “I’m not though,” Alice said softly. “I’ve been ‘ere for three years cowering.”

“Hey,” James snapped. He brought his index finger underneath her chin and forced her to look up at him. His eyes and jawline were hard and stern. “Do not belittle yourself. You have endured what no other your age should endure.”

If only he knew what she had endured. Taking part in a revolution was one thing, hiding in a crate while watching her brother die was something else. But she couldn’t speak about that. It was something utterly personal that she wasn’t ready to share. She’d never properly dealt with Jacques’ death, she’d been in denial for three years. Speaking about the happenings in June three years earlier made it real.

“Do you think less of me?” Alice asked worriedly.

James smiled and shook his head. “I always knew you were keeping something to yourself. ‘Jacqueline’ was reserved with few emotions, ‘Alice’ is a real person with perfections and flaws. I like her much more than I liked ‘Jacqueline’ and I didn’t think that was possible.” He was speaking so sincerely, she felt touched.

She paused. He liked her? What could that possibly mean? Was it an English term for affection or did he just foresee friendship for them? She caught herself mid thought. What did she foresee for them?

“What perfections?” she mumbled, choosing to just remark on that part of his statement. She didn’t believe she had any perfections, she thought most women felt that way.

James chuckled. “You sound like my sisters. I’ve learnt from experience though, you can’t convince them they’re perfect.”

Perfect?

James let out a breath and released her from his arms. She hadn’t realised he was still holding her, that was how comfortable she was. Her attachment to him was beyond fondness. She’d trusted him like no other and she was right to. He’d been shocked at first and understandably so, but he’d supported her and he hadn’t judged her. Her views were changing. There was good in the world, and perhaps she could be a part of it.

“No matter how much good we meant, we were still ‘unted. I don’t know what will ‘appen to me if they found out I was ‘ere. Do you think the English police would send me back to France to be persecuted?”

James looked stern. “I don’t know what would happen if they found out. But let it be our little secret, alright? I told you that you could trust me and I will keep that promise. I won’t let anything happen to you. So long as you want it, you have my protection. I swear it.”

Alice knew exactly what would happen if they found out. England and France historically had a turbulent relationship and they would surely send a French rebel back to her mother country to be executed like she deserved. So long as she was in England, she would remain ‘Jacqueline’. “You would lie for me?” Alice asked in disbelief.

James cocked his head as if her question was utterly absurd. “I would do anything for you,” he said simply.

She felt completely flattered. Her cheeks betrayed her instantly as they began to redden.

James reached into the pocket of his coat and removed a fine, woven silver chain. He allowed the pretty chain to hang from a few of his fingers as he held it up to her. “I’ve admired your rosary each time I’ve seen you, but I can’t help but notice how frail the current chain is.”

Alice reached up to feel her mother’s rosary around her neck. It was true. While the cross was beautiful, the chain was damaged, tarnished and on the brink of snapping. Her mother’s original chain had broken years ago, the current chain she had was one she had found on the street one day.

But her instincts against charity were forcing her to refuse. The money he had given her would benefit the children. This was just a present for her. She wouldn’t have anyone spending money on her. Not ever.

“I thought this would make a nice addition to it,” he said hopefully as he unfastened the clasp waiting for her to remove her own chain.

“No,” she said stubbornly. “I don’t want you buying me things. I’m not materialistic. I don’t want your money.”

James looked a little hurt at her brazen rebuttal. She felt instantly guilty. She could have refused it more kindly. “I didn’t buy this,” he replied quietly. “It belonged to my grandmother. She gave it to my mother the Christmas after my sister and I were born. Now it belongs to me and I would like you to have it. It will look finer around your neck than mine,” he said, laughing nervously.

Alice felt a little foolish. Again, he was trying to be kind and she had been rude. It truly was a pretty chain. “Are you sure you are alright with giving me a family heirloom?” Alice said timidly. She wouldn’t feel right accepting something that belonged to his family when she’d only known James for a short while.

“Alice,” he said firmly. Her breath caught in her throat as she heard her name used with conviction. It felt so wonderful to be known as herself. At least with someone she could be honest. “I want you to have this. That chain will break at any moment and this will do your beautiful rosary justice. No one will think less of you if you accept,” he promised.

Alice could think of a few passionate people who would object. She merely nodded with a torn smile on her face as she reached behind her neck to the clasp on her rosary. As if it were fate, the clasp broke between her fingertips. She pulled it from around her neck and stared at the broken chain.

“It’s as if it were meant to be,” James said, amused. He took the rosary and the broken chain from her small hands and pulled the cross from it, placing the old chain down on the bench top next to the trough of dishes. “Wherever did you get this?” he asked her as he threaded her rosary onto the beautiful, new chain

“It belonged to maman, Marceline. It is the only thing of ‘ers that I ‘ave and it is my most treasured possession,” Alice explained. She watched as he allowed the cross to drop to the centre of the new chain. He motioned for her to turn around so that he could fix the clasp shut. Alice complied and pulled her hair over her shoulder to allow more access. She felt the hair stand up on the back of her neck as his soft hands. She heard him attach the clasp and linger on her neck for a moment before taking a step back away from her.

“Perfect,” he said, sounding satisfied. “You’re beautiful.”

Alice’s blush deepened. The chain was longer than her previous one so she could admire both her rosary and the chain at once. She turned around and smiled warmly at him. “Thank you,” she said gratefully. “I apologise for being difficult.”

James shrugged. “I understand,” he assured her. “You don’t know the meaning of difficult unless you’ve met my sister, Kitty, anyway,” he chuckled. “She’s tamer now that she’s married but she still has more personality than one would ever need.”

Alice looked forward to meeting her. She looked forward to meeting each of his sisters and his brother and his father and any other family member that he had. The dinner at Ethridge was something she was looking forward to, and she hadn’t been excited about many things in the five years she’d been in England. “She sounds like a wonderful lady,” Alice said honestly. There needed to be more boisterous people in the world.

James helped Alice finish the dishes as they chatted comfortably to each other. Every so often he would call her by her name and she would get a little thrill from it each time. She finally felt a little human and not like some invisible child. If she could have one friend in the great city then she would be happy, even if it was only for a while.

When it came time for James to leave, Alice walked him to the door. The mood changed as he opened the door. He was looking down at her almost longingly and she couldn’t help but feel as though he might kiss her. Her breath caught in her throat and she could feel her heart beating so fast, fast enough that even he might hear it. Emotions of panic washed through her as his head edged closer to hers. When their lips were inches apart his eyes closed.

No, it wasn’t right. She turned her head so that his kiss landed on her cheek instead. James pulled back, startled.

“Monsieur, you are quite engaged,” she reminded him quietly. The presence of his fiancée irritated her. If she was as odious as his mother described then why would he insist on marrying her?

James looked a little embarrassed. “My apologies,” he said, embarrassed before quickly escaping into the night.

James looked a little embarrassed. “My apologies,” he said, embarrassed before quickly escaping into the night.

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Hope you liked it :)

Sorry for being AWOL the last few days. The deadlines for about 3 assignments suddenly crept up on me. I submitted a Food Innovation and Culture assignment at 11:57pm when it was due at 11:59pm! Good thing I can touch type :P

Thank you for all the birthday wishes too guys :) I had a good day and I'm now officially 19 years old. Gah! I came onto this website as a naïve 17 year old and now this is my first chapter as an almost in my 20s year old :P But my mum bought me a pair of these gorgeous studs from Tiffany's that I've wanted ever since I saw 'Breakfast at Tiffany's' when I was about 12 and then got obsessed with the store :) We have fights but my mum is the best and she knows everything about me :P (Like my 4th favourite movie and the number of burns I have from making coffees at work haha)

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