Lord Brandon Downworth told her that they could not go further into the garden, unless they wanted to be the center of gossip.

She appreciated that about the man. He was a complete gentleman and was not intimidated by her at all, which made her very curious indeed.

"You do not act as though you have heard the stories about me," she started, "and I would not believe you if you claim otherwise."

Downworth chuckled, amused. Alice looked at him and could not help but smile in return. He was not particularly handsome in her opinion, although many women would disagree. His hair was blonde, too blonde in her opinion, it was almost silver. It must be his crowning glory, Alice thought, as she imagined the time and effort placed on making it perfect. His face was too clean and he looked younger than he actually was. He gave off the energy of a nice gentleman, one you could trust your secrets with. He would be good with children as well. Alice could see that in him. It was rare to find this kind of man in this day and age. With his perfect smile and warm blue eyes, Brandon Downworth was someone's perfection, but not hers.

"Yes, of course, I have heard of Lady Ice," he said, his laughter dying down. He took a long breath and sighed. "As a matter-of-fact, I invited you to dance to see for myself what the fuss was all about."

"Seeing that you did not rush off after our dance tells me you found something different."

He nodded. They had stopped walking and were facing a collection of rare flowers. With his hands clasped behind him, Downworth said, "You are simply honest, my lady. I find no fault in that. I appreciate it, actually."

"Thank you," she replied, quite reassured that she was in the presence of a good man. But not the man she would want to be romantic with. He would qualify for a very good friend.

Alice turned her head to the side and saw Harold standing by the doorway with Martin. He was directly staring at her. She stiffened for a moment before she forced herself to look away, but it was too late for Downworth also noticed the two lords from afar.

"Lord Everard is staring at you as though you are about to execute me," he jested. "I wonder what my crime is."

"He is friends with Lord Surley. And he and I are acquainted."

"Ah, is that so?" Downworth asked. "My father is an acquaintance of Lord Everard. He is quite frustrated that his son has not yet married. He even asked if one of my sisters is willing to be matched."

"And?" Alice asked after a while when Downworth did not continue his story.

"Ah, you know about some people and their belief in superstitions. I am afraid my mother and sisters are amongst those who believe the curse of the Everards."

Alice scoffed. "I cannot judge your mother and your sisters, but do you think it is quite unfair that people stay away from those who they believe to be cursed without actual proof of it?"

Downworth shrugged. "I would agree, but we cannot force people to look away from their own opinions and beliefs, especially when fear is involved."

"Sadly, I also agree."

"And it is even sadder that the unfortunate incidents in the Everard family line have evolved from pure mere coincidences to actual evidence."

Alice nodded. "They do have reasons to fear the curse. All wives died after giving birth to their first child. But as you have said, I see it as nothing but coincidences."

Downworth nodded. "There has not been an Everard whose wife lasted years after the first-born, except for one who died with her second child. We cannot blame society for believing the curse. I, myself, sometimes doubt my own stubborn will to not believe it." Downworth stole another glance at Harold's direction. "And perhaps Lord Whiston may also somehow believe the curse to be true. It could be why he is adamant on not choosing a wife."

"Kenward," Alice murmured.

"I'm sorry?"

"Kenward. He prefers the title Kenward."

"Ah, yes, of course. My mistake. He has two and will have more in the years to come."

Alice became quiet. Could it be true? Did Harold believe the bloody stupid curse?

*****

After their stroll in the garden, Downworth invited Alice to return to the ballroom before anyone suspected anything and assume the worse.

"I do like you, my lady," he admitted as they waited in one corner for Eva and Martin to return from their dance. From the corner of her eye, Alice noticed Harold talking to two women, one young enough for marriage and the other old enough to be her mother. "Being in your presence give me respite from husband-hunting mothers."

"And I do like you too, my lord," she retorted with a small smile. "I am glad that my presence brings you comfort. We shall make a pair of great friends. Do you not agree?"

Downworth nodded. "Yes. I can see a good future for us. You ought to start calling me Brandon."

"Yes, I agree. And you should start calling me Alice," Alice said. "I am quite relieved that we have no romantic attraction towards each other. It would have been a pity to ruin this promising pleasant relationship with marriage in mind. We shall both suffer it."

Brandon broke into a loud chuckle, causing a few guests to turn to their direction. As his laughter died down, he said, "You are truly honest. I appreciate it the most."

"And you are a good company. We ought to have tea soon, but let us not go to Café Royal."

"The place does not serve the best tea," Brandon nodded. "They do not serve anything good, in fact. They are simply a venue for people to flirt."

"Perhaps you should call on me if you have the time. Or we could go on a picnic," she said, looking directly at someone from across the dance floor. "And perhaps, by then, you could invite her to join us."

Brandon blinked in surprise. "Whatever do you mean, Alice?"

She motioned with her head. "Her, the one in that awful red velvet dress."

Brandon did not have to follow her gaze for he knew exactly who she was referring to. "Pepper is a very good friend of mine."

Alice nodded as her eyes narrowed in deep thought. "A friend is someone like me, Brandon. One you could talk to without fear of being judged because you do not aim to gain my approval. She, on the other hand, is someone you look at with intense anxiety because you fear she would find you unsuitable. You cannot even turn your head and force your eyes to look at her as we speak while moments ago, you could not take your eyes off her when you thought everyone was ignorant of your attraction towards her. And she is wearing a horrendous dress. Just look at her, the poor woman looked like she could barely breathe as her mother drags her around to be introduced to any man in the room. Yet, despite that, you cannot keep your eyes away from her. Except at the moment now that you know I have noticed your little secret."

Brandon had started to glare at her but his face slowly morphed into amusement as she finished her statement. He started to chuckle. "You would make a marvelous gossipmonger. I would be utterly terrified if you turn out to be one because you would most definitely always be correct." Alice shrugged as though she already knew that. "And yes, the dress is horrendous. But she is beautiful. You have to admit that, my friend."

Alice frowned. "As she is standing quite far, I cannot say I can agree. I would have to look into her eyes and hear her speak."

"Hear her speak?"

"Beauty is the way you deliver your thoughts, Brandon," she explained. "Does she speak ill of anyone?"

"She does whenever she is being honest. And when she is in comfortable company."

"Good. No one is entirely nice." She sighed and nodded. "Very well, since you do have a good taste of friends, I can assume you also have good taste on women. Should you not ask her for a dance?"

Brandon began to panic. "No."

Alice paused. "Why?"

"Well... I..."

She scoffed incredulously. "You had the courage to ask me for a dance. Why not ask her now?"

Brandon hesitated.

"I wonder what she must be thinking now," Alice said in a low voice only for him to hear. "She must have seen us both dancing. And we walked to the garden. And you are still standing by my side." When she stole a glance, his face had gone white. "Do you suppose she would think we are now at the beginning of a courtship?"

By this time, Brandon had stepped away from her, face utterly white with horror.

Alice nodded as she said, "You truly ought to ask her for a dance now, Brandon. If you want her, want her now, not later when you think you have mustered enough courage because that moment shall never come."

He looked across the ballroom where Pepper was standing with her mother. The black-haired beauty looked like she was suffering more than anyone else in the room. "Should I?"

The look Alice gave him made him swiftly turn and stride across the ballroom toward Pepper. Alice contained her smile as she watched Brandon suffer as he asked Pepper for a dance. And then, just as quickly, he returned to her side, sweating.

"What did you say to her that she refused?" Alice asked.

Brandon swallowed. "She already promised a dance with someone."

"Who?"

Brandon searched the ballroom and nodded at a young lord laughing with friends. "That one. Lord Beverley. I do not try to ruin him, but he is a..."

The man seemed to struggle to find the perfect evil term. "Let us simply say he is not you," said Alice and Brandon nodded.

She squared her shoulders and started to walk away. "Alice, what are you doing?" Brandon hissed behind her.

"Securing you a bloody dance," she hissed back. "Now, go back to your Pepper and tell her that her next dance has been snatched by no other than Lady Ice herself."

"Alice!" Brandon hissed after her but she was no longer listening. She searched for her target and found him still talking with his friends. Looking over her shoulder, Alice saw Brandon giving her a look of warning. She waved her hand at Pepper's direction and turned away before he could stop her again.

She inched closer to the man and his friends, trying to be invisible at the same time.

"I should excuse myself after a while," her target gentleman said to her friends. "My mother had to promise another mother that I would dance with her daughter after she begged for it. I should honor the promise."

His friends laughed. "An honorable struggle, Beverley," said one.

Her eyebrow arched and she hastened to find herself a drink. Brandon was still where he had been standing, watching what she was doing with worry. Once she was able to secure a drink in hand, Alice returned to Lord Beverley and his friends. The group was slightly hidden from the rest of the crowd by a row of stone columns.

Alice calmly waited until the man excused himself, murmuring, "Watch me suffer a dance with a smile, my lords," eliciting more laughter from his group.

As the man turned to find Pepper, Alice stepped right in front of him, crashing against him and accidentally poured her entire drink on front of his exposed dress shirt, soaking the bottom of his cravat. "Oh, good lord," she said in a deadpan voice. She looked up and realized that Beverley was glaring down at her in shock and fury. And then recognition registered on his face the second he had a proper look at her.

"Why, you—"

Alice sighed. "I am afraid you will have to find a way to clean up, my lord. Should I find a footman to escort you somewhere?"

The man took one step closer, glaring down at her and through his teeth, he said, "Why don't you and I find a place to settle this... mistake of yours, my lady?"

Alice stiffened. She took a step back but the man followed. She looked over his shoulder to find Brandon but the man had seen what she did and was now on his way to steal Beverley's dance. Martin and Eva were still dancing.

Oh, this could turn badly, she thought to herself.

"I regret to have ruined your clothes, my lord. Should I find a footman for you?"

"Why would I need one when I can have a woman help me dry my clothes?" he sneered down at her. No one seemed to have noticed them. They were, after all, quite hidden from the crowd.

"I meant to find a footman to escort you back to your carriage so you could rid this ball of your presence," she said, lifting her chin with defiance.

"Why, you little—"

"I am afraid you will have to do as the lady says, Beverley," a familiar voice said behind Alice.

Beverley looked up while Alice went stiff.

"I will have to deal with her myself," the voice said behind her.

Beverley seemed to understand. He gave Alice one last look of fury before he turned away and disappeared from the ballroom.

Alice was about to escape but a strong hand stopped her by grabbing her arm.

"You come with me."

Alice shrugged off from his hand and turned to glare at him. "Very well, Sebastian, but let us do this calmly. I can walk by myself."

Sebastian's dark eyes narrowed. "Do not even attempt to escape me this time again, darling."

A corner of her lips lifted into a sarcastic smile. "I would never dream of it." She stiffly turned and found a doorway that led to a long corridor. As she passed each door, she realized they were the gaming rooms.

Finally reaching the end of the hall, she turned to Sebastian who had been hovering behind her and demanded, "What is it that you want, Sebastian? Have we not had enough unfortunate meetings? Or do you wish for another broken finger? Perhaps with the other hand to equal the damage?"

Sebastian stepped closer and trapped her against the wall. The corridor behind them was empty. She was cornered once again.

"Do not play with me, Alice, darling," Sebastian whispered in her ear. "I know you like this chase between us. Have you been dreaming about me while in Everard's arms? Did you think of me while he took you over and over again? Did you wish you were my whore instead of his?"

Alice's jaw tightened as she felt, for the first time, the intense desire to inflict pain and agony on a human being. She may have once broken his finger, but she wanted to break him in all possible available limbs at this very moment.

Her anger should fuel her to escape him, or hurt him, but instead, it was proving to be her weakness for she found it hard to move. Even when his hand harshly cupped the back of her head and his fingers locked around the strands of hair, inflicting a sharp stinging pain, Alice found it difficult to push him away. She was too angry and astounded.

Sebastian's mouth crashed against hers in the most disgusting way possible. When Alice remained stiff and unmoving, he pushed her even further into the shadows of the wall, pinning her against it with his hips. "Did you?" he asked, licking her ear. "And did he satisfy you, darling? Oh, you poor thing. You ought to know I could do more. Should I prove it now?"

"Stop now, or I will scream," Alice said, voice shaking. "I swear to God, Sebastian, I will scream. Everyone will come running and both our reputation shall be ruined." Her warning was enough to make him stop.

This time, Alice had already recovered and immediately pushed Sebastian away.

"You are a disgusting piece of filth," she said before she threw her hand back and gave him a hard blow to the face. As he cried in shock and anger, she had already bent over and escaped him, reversing their position. And before he could even lunge for her, she kicked his groin and he dropped on the floor, whimpering in intense pain. "Do not even come close to me again, you bloody bastard," she warned, walking backwards as she said so.

Sebastian lifted his head, his eyes burning with hatred. "Do not think I am done with you, Alice, my sweet," he said through his pain. "You will never find a husband here. Not in Wickhurst, not anywhere. Everyone will soon learn what a whore you are! Did you hear me, you cunt? You give your reputation very little weight, but see until you witness it completely ruined. You will pay for this. See what I can do."

Alice nodded, breathing heavily. "I dare you," she coldly announced before turning her back at the man.