Alice was already exhausted by the time they reached Wickhurst.

Two days traveling on the road with her mother and Lady Vivian was no jesting matter. They had one stop at a small village to rest and still she felt the two ladies had stolen all her energy from her simply by being in the same carriage as them.

They never stopped talking and sharing stories. They may get tired of one subject, but there would be more countless to replace it.

At one time, they even talked about duties in bed. Alice was pretending to be asleep and she nearly fell off her seat when both women admitted, in hushed tones, that they thought they enjoyed making love more than their husbands did in some occasions.

She would never get the picture out of her head, mayhap never in this lifetime. Never had she imagined her mother to disclose such intimate information to anyone. But then, maybe women always did. Just not with their daughters.

After two days, Alice was ready for some quiet moment alone although she was unsure how to do so since Wickhurst was not quiet at all. Even as they entered Martin's villa, the sounds of carriages outside were only muffled.

After formally greeting Lady Edwina and her mother-in-law, Eva squealed with excitement upon seeing Alice, enveloping her in a tight embrace the moment she could.

"I missed you terribly," Eva murmured to Alice, sniffing and wiping her tears, laughing at herself.

"Come now, darling," said Martin behind his wife with a smile, "we do not want them to think you hate the married life."

"Oh, no, of course not—"

"I am jesting, darling," said Martin, kissing the top of his wife's head before he turned to his mother to say, "Tea is ready in the parlor."

Lady Vivian and Edwina were guided to the parlor by Martin while Eva and Alice fell behind, talking in low voices.

"This house feels amazing, Eva," Alice said, looking about. It was not as narrow as the villas she and her parents would rent whenever they were in Wickhurst. "Will the noises from outside be heard upstairs, though?"

"Martin knew I am not used to close spaces, thus he arranged for the other parlor to be removed." Her friend was smiling broadly at her. "And yes, fret not, because the noises will disappear upstairs."

"Thank goodness. And who would need two parlors in Wickhurst?"

Eva shrugged. "The Everards?" She laughed when Alice merely frowned. "You ought to have seen my face when Martin and I were invited in the Everard manor by his father. The place was humongous for one old man to live in."

Alice made no comment. What else was she to say?

"By the by, you must be tired."

"You have not the faintest idea, Eva," Alice replied with a loud sigh. "But I can suffer a cup of tea before I fall on my face and start to snore."

"Then we must hurry along and get through tea time as quickly as we can. We do not want you tired and weary for your entire season."

"I will be dead by the time this season ends."

Eva grabbed her hand and squeezed it with a light chuckle. "I missed you, Alice. I have not been around many unpredictable female companions of late. You are a breath of fresh air." As they entered the parlor, Eva added in a whisper, "Fret not. I shall give you your space as much as you want to. Simply be patient until they leave for Willowfair."

*****

Alice was on her way to the breakfast room the next day when she overheard her mother's word speaking.

"...believe it would be easy. Simply introduce her to every eligible gentleman. She would be free to choose whomever she wishes to marry. And note that she scares them away during a dance, the waltz more than everything else."

"We will have quite a bit of a challenge," Martin spoke. "She does not wish to marry."

"I believe she does," Eva contradicted. "She simply wishes to find the right man."

"She does not have time," Alice heard her mother say with a sigh.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out, Alice squared her shoulders and entered the breakfast room as though she did not hear a word. "Good morning," she greeted everyone.

They acknowledged her presence with smiles and happy greetings.

"How was your night, Alice?" Martin asked as she was served a plate. "I hope you find your room quiet enough?"

"Good, thank you. It was quiet." She forked a piece of egg from her plate and fed herself, thinking of what to say next. Eva was giving her a meaningful look, warning her to not say something that might cause worry. "I believe you are leaving for Willowfair today, Mother, am I correct?"

Her mother nodded. "Vivian and I are to depart after luncheon." Her face turned fretful as she stared at her daughter. "But I think I ought to stay a few more days. To see you get settled."

"Fret not about me. There is no reason for such a fuss. My gowns are ready and Janet is here to assist me." She gestured at Eva. "Eva and I, in fact, already have plans."

"You do?" her mother, Lady Vivian and Martin asked in unison. Eva's brows rose in question then she blinked and she nodded, eyes still on Alice. "Yes, we do."

"I heard there is a new café nearby. We are planning to go there. And I plan to shop for new books to bring home to Langworthy after the season."

Her mother's face turned serious. "Truly, Alice, would it not be more amazing if you can bring home a husband rather than books?"

Alice's eyes nearly rolled at her mother's statement, but she kept her composure and shrugged in response. "You have given me your address in Willowfair. I shall write to you every week."

"I would prefer if you can update me every other day, darling," her mother said.

"That will require me to spend more time writing rather than finding a husband, mother."

Her mother helplessly sighed. "Oh, Lord." She turned to Lady Vivian to add, "Every day, she reminds me of her father."

Lady Vivian smiled warmly and turned to Alice. "Alice, darling, if you ever need us, you know you can always send word, yes? Martin and Eva will take good care of you while you are here." She slanted her eyes to her son and sternly added, "And Martin will limit his time at Grey's to take you to as many balls as possible. Is that not correct, my dear son?"

Martin cleared his throat and wryly replied, "Of course, mother."

Alice glanced at Eva who was trying not to laugh.

She sighed, grateful that her mother would not be here for the season, but all the while quite stressed for the agonizing days to come.

*****

Alice and Eva soon left for Café Royal her friend was talking about in her letter. They ordered for tea, which tasted like every other tea, and biscuits that even Janet could bake herself with eyes closed. The place offered nothing except for a different kind of environment where women could flaunt themselves and giggle like a broken pianoforte whenever a few gentlemen happened to stride in.

They would talk loudly about books they had read or the music pieces they learned to play, all the while looking at the gentlemen they fancied from across the room, perhaps hoping that they piqued interest.

With her tea nowhere near empty, Alice asked Eva if there were any bookshops nearby.

"I will come with you—"

"No, you do not have to, really," she said, stopping Eva. "Martin is soon to arrive to take us to the park. We would not want him to worry if he does not find us here. And I do need a time alone."

Her friend gave her a sympathetic look. "Was your journey to Wickhurst that bad?"

"Terrible," she said, causing her friend to laugh.

She found a quaint bookshop that sold a decent number of books and was quite happy to find a selection on horses. She inspected each one, enjoying the time alone. Janet ought to be with her, but the very moment her mother and Lady Vivian had departed that afternoon, she gave her maid an order that she would not have anyone following her around like she was the holy virgin herself. Janet, used to her mistress' temperament and desire to be left alone, readily agreed.

After her purchase, Alice decided to return to Eva, a little guilty that she had the audacity to spend time alone when she knew that her friend had been longing to be with her since living in Wickhurst.

But as she walked past the café window, she noticed that Eva was already with Martin. But the couple was not alone.

She stopped and her heart started pounding loudly. Her grip around the wrapped books loosened and before they fell off her arms, she gripped them tightly and hurried toward the door. To her surprise, the door opened and two ladies walked out, chatting excitedly.

"...Everard. Did you see?" asked one of the ladies.

"Of course! Who would have missed it! Oh, I wish we could have stayed longer..."

Alice moistened her lips. Should she go inside?

He would think she was avoiding him if she escaped.

But he would not be thinking so if he believed she was not around to see him. She could pretend to still be in the bookshop.

She craned her neck to peek through the window again.

He was still sitting there talking to her friends.

Alice looked about. The street was busy and noisy. She would rather go back inside, but the man who was causing her to panic was in there.

She wanted to pound her head with her books. Why was she being like this? This was not her.

Again, Alice swallowed.

What should she do now?

*****

Harold was getting impatient. Every woman in the room was distracting him, not because he was interested, but because they were not hiding the fact that they were ogling him.

Bloody tarnation. This café was a curse for every unmarried gentleman.

"Alice is having a hard time adjusting to the noise," he heard Eva say.

But where is she now? He wanted to ask.

And as though his friend heard his question, Martin said, "The bookshop is nearby. Perhaps we should see if she is fine?"

Yes.

"No. She was longing to be alone for a while," Eva contradicted.

Harold was gritting his teeth. Was Eva not concerned that her friend was bloody alone at the moment? She was from the country, for God's sake. She could easily be tricked or harassed.

But a voice inside his head told him otherwise. If there was going to be anyone harassing anyone, it would be Alice.

He sighed. It had been almost an hour since he and Martin arrived from the meeting with other lords who were organizing a hunting game soon. Martin had invited him to join him and his wife for tea and he was about to make an excuse when Martin mentioned Alice's name.

But the woman was nowhere to be found when they arrived. She was in a bloody bookshop alone.

"Are you certain she would be coming back?" Martin asked his wife.

"She must be enjoying the variety of book selections as we speak, knowing Alice. Fret not."

Harold sighed and crossed his leg over the other.

A little while later, one of Martin's footmen arrived with a note he handed to Eva.

As Eva read the note, Harold guessed what it contained. Or who wrote it.

"She went home," Eva announced regretfully. "She said her head started throbbing from all the noise. But she is fine."

Harold had his doubts. Could it be that Alice saw him inside the café and decided to not meet him?

"At the very least we know she is fine," he said to Eva.

"You have not seen each other since you left Langworthy." Eva smiled. "But that will soon change, of course. I am sure you two have quite become friends during your journey to Tiny Town even if you both deny it. We will be attending the Walkelin Ball in two days. You are also attending, yes?"

"I have no choice. My father will kill me if I do not."

"Good! You can introduce Alice to your acquaintances. One of them might take interest in her. And hopefully, she will, too."

Martin and Harold shared a look. They were thinking the same thing.

It would be hard to charm Alice Archibald.

*****

Harold thought he would get bored tonight.

The Walkelin Ball was amongst the biggest in Wickhurst. Women of all ages would prepare for it months ahead. Men would make mental notes of names they would want ask for a dance with.

But there were others like him who was merely there out of responsibility. His father was friends with Lord Walkelin and as the old Everard would say, good business ought to be served to friends. Whatever Lady Walkelin displayed around her neck, hands and ears would surely be amongst the most in-demand pieces of jewelries. To have an Everard jewelry like that of the celebrated members of society was a goal to many.

For years, Harold was forced to attend grand balls such as this one, sometimes with the old man and most often alone. He would be quite lucky to land himself in the midst of friends from Grey's, but those bloody bastards would be with female companions, a task they would claim to be abhorrent but necessary. He, of course, would never understand for never had he been in a situation where he had to guard a woman during such events. In fact, it would always be the opposite. The women would be guarded against men like him.

His night began to take a different turn when Martin and Eva's presence were announced. He was just with his friends at the café two days ago, so they were not the cause for the sudden tinge of excitement. It was the name that followed the Lord and Lady of Surley that made Harold push himself away from the pillar he had been idly leaning on.

"Lady Alice Archibald from the House of Langworthy!" the voice announced.

At that moment, Harold realized that he was not the only one whose attention was taken by the name. Not all, but quite a few number of heads turned to look for her.

He did not realize that his chest heaved and his breathing stopped when she finally walked in, arm in arm with Eva.

She looked magnificent he almost hated it.

The light blue gown was nearly white as it glittered with her movement. Her black hair was donned so perfectly he wanted to pull out the pins and brush his fingers through the silky strands. Who was he fooling when he thought he had already forgotten about the night they spent in Tiny Town? She was still the Alice he remembered. And he still wanted her.

Bloody tarnation indeed.

Harold's jaw tightened as her beautiful, unsmiling face turned to the opposite direction.

She was walking away, he realized. And he could see a few gentlemen slowly following the same path toward her as though the bloody bastards had finally found the light after a gruesome death.

"...Lady Ice, is she not?" he heard a woman's voice behind him.

"Yes. I heard she was the one who broke Lord Sebastian's finger," another woman whispered.

"You mean the future Lord of Henry?"

"Yes, the one."

"Oh, but he is quite a gentleman! Whyever would she do such a thing?"

"It is merely a rumor, dear."

"She is not even that pretty. I do adore her gown though," another woman added.

"She is rather plain, is she not? And did you notice the haughty look upon her entrance?"

"I heard she just came out of mourning."

"She is living under the grace of the new Lord of Langworthy, yes. Poor thing, really. Left unmarried and without a home."

His jaw clenched at the statement. Thankfully, Alice was nowhere near to hear the ignorant fools. If she was, Harold would love to witness quite a scene.

"Oh, what a terrible fate. She must have forced herself out of mourning to find a husband. She does need one."

"It shall not be an easy task. She is called Lady Ice for no reason."

"Should we introduce ourselves? I am curious about her."

"Darling, we are all hunting for the same thing. We cannot afford to be considered as cold and lifeless. It can be quite contagious, you must know. We have to be always charming and happy. That is what men are looking for."

"Oh, but—"

"Now, come... we must prepare for the next dance. And where is Anita? Was she not supposed to..."

Harold could merely control himself as he allowed the whispers to continue while he made his way across the ballroom. In every step, he could hear at least one talking about Alice.

Good God! No wonder she could not find herself a husband!

What the bloody hell had she been doing in her past seasons to have built this reputation?

He decided to stay away for the time being. He was not able to meet her at the café and he had been doubting the reason for her sudden feeling of unwell. He silently rejected the idea. Surely she could not have been avoiding him? She was not that kind of woman. She had not sent him a single letter since he left Langworthy, which merely meant she had long forgotten the things they shared together. Alice Archibald would not avoid him.

Within a short period of time, Harold noticed a flock of gentlemen securing a dance with Alice. He could not help but smile with incredulity as he watched Martin measuring each man with his gaze, nodding when he approved of a dance and shaking his head when he had to refuse a gentleman or two. It was like watching his father judging the quality of stones from the mines.

A group of acquaintances cornered him for a chat as Alice danced her first dance. He silently protested. She was dancing with Whittock. The man was a bloody nancy. By the time she danced her second dance, Harold was surrounded by even more people who wanted to talk to him about business. This time, she was dancing with someone who looked like he was skipping on hot coals.

By the third dance, Alice was looking colder—even scary—that by the time the dance was over her partner was seen rushing to the opposite side of the ballroom, probably looking for mommy.

She was terrible at this, Harold quickly noted.

Eva and Martin were dancing the next dance when he spotted Alice escaping the ballroom. The word must have already spread amongst the gentlemen: Alice Archibald was the Lady Ice.

Harold looked around the men surrounding him and bowed, saying he promised a dance to someone. They dispersed and he immediately made his way out of the ballroom, following the path she took.

She did not go far away. In fact, he saw her standing by the garden entrance, alone and glowing against the light from the garden. She was still as he remembered her to be. Back erect and proud, head high in a haughty fashion.

Why was he even here?

He should be in one of the gaming rooms.

Or perhaps at Grey's.

Or home.

Not here with her.

She was not moving. Bloody hell, he could praise her about many things and standing like a bloody stone statue was amongst them.

He thought he had something witty to say, but his mind was empty. What could he say to her? He did not even know if she wanted to see him here or if she wanted to see him at all.

Yet his feet had a mind of their own, and Harold found himself cautiously walking toward her. His heart pounded faster against his chest with each step. Every bloody gentleman she danced with tonight was seen escaping her, yet here he was, being pulled toward her like it was the only way to be.

He stopped just a few steps away and before she could feel his presence, he said the very words he would not have said if he was in his bloody right mind. "You are not doing well tonight, Alice. Have you yet regretted your decision not taking Martin for your own?"