Chapter Twenty

Alice didn’t hear anything for a while. She figured no news was good news. She’d been told that a wealthy family had come into the Met and had demanded that proof be acquired before she was sent back to France. She only knew of one wealthy family and she was more grateful that they had forgiven her deceit than that they were fighting her case.

If she were ever freed, she would have no qualms with inviting the Alcott’s into her life, or them inviting her. Jacques had been wrong in generalising all aristocrats as terrible snobs. Perhaps some were, but she’d come across the good ones and if they’d let her, she would love to call them her friends.

She wasn’t permitted any more visitors and she’d been moved to the cells below the ground. They were a lot darker than the cell she’d been kept in before. There were no windows and there was a constant chill in the air. The summer warmth did not make it down to where she and a few other prisoners were being held. Perhaps it wasn’t even summer anymore. She’d lost track of the days.

Alice spent her days curled up on the little cot in the corner of the small cell and she kept warm by wrapping herself in the scratchy blanket. She didn’t want to fall ill. She could hear several raspy coughs, though she couldn’t see where they originated from. What she missed dearly was her rosary. It had been confiscated and for all she knew it had been melted down for the metal. She couldn’t bear it if it had.

She’d lost weight. She still wore the dress that she planned to marry James in, except it hung off of her. She had already been quite narrow except now she could feel her ribs when she ran her hands down her sides. It wasn’t that she wasn’t been fed, she just didn’t eat enough.

What she wanted more than anything though was to bathe.

It would be two more days until she saw another person. The man was a police officer who carried a letter. He was dressed in a navy uniform and looked at her quizzically. “We received a letter from the French authorities yesterday. We’ve only just had the letter translated.” His eyes travelled down to the letter in his hands. “To whom it may concern,” he began. “We are very interested in acquiring the French prisoner you have in your possession and we implore you to send her back to her motherland. We recognised the surname ‘Devereaux’ as one of the rebel ringleaders though he was a male named ‘Jacques’ and was killed the day of the revolution. We’ve no record of an ‘Alice’ but of course we cannot be sure that she was not involved. As she is a French citizen, we ask that she be sent home. We can personally promise that no harm will come to her without a proper investigation taking place first. Sincerely … some French name that is unpronounceable,” the police officer finished. He clearly could not read French names as he read Jacques’ name phonetically.

Alice didn’t know whether to be happy or scared. What did that letter mean? She wasn’t on any revolutionary records, she was sure Jacques had seen to that, but the French authorities still wanted her returned to them. If she went back home she knew she would see the falling blade of the guillotine before she would see keys unlocking her shackles.

“What are you going to do, Monsieur?” Alice asked quietly, tightening the itchy blanket around her shoulders. She didn’t recognise this officer. She was just glad he was not the officer who’d made sexual comments toward her when she was in the cells upstairs.

“Well, Miss Devereaux, the one thing you should know about the British is that we do not ‘trust’ the French. We’ve had many wars over the years which have made us a better and wiser empire. The powers that be require proof and this letter provides none. You are free to go.” He pulled out a set of keys set on a large metal ring. He slipped one of the keys inside the door on her cell and unlocked it. He crossed the tiny cell and pulled out a smaller set of keys to unlock the shackles that kept her ankles bound.

She couldn’t believe what was happening. She was free? She was free to go under her own name. ‘Alice Devereaux’ was a free woman. She’d been bound in chains figuratively, and now literally, for three long years, and she’d been bound by the rebels for many years before that. She would always believe in equality but she could never condone the way they went about it.

“We’ve already alerted your next of kin and she is here to collect you,” he told her as he held the door open for her.

Alice climbed out of the cot and abandoned the blanket. She felt completely dirty as she walked out the door. “What is ‘next of kin’?” Alice asked him as she brushed her hair over her shoulders so that it could hang down her back.

“Your guardian, Miss,” he replied. “A Lady Ethridge. She says she is your guardian and requested that she be alerted whenever news came. She’s scarier than the Inspectors upstairs if you ask me.”

Emilia was here to collect her?

“Come along, we’ve drunkards and petty thieves to fill this cell.” He ushered her down the long, gloomy corridor that ended in a steep, stone staircase. She found that her lack of nourishment had caused her to be quite weak so tackling the staircase required a lot of effort. The officer walking beside her was quite patient though and walked at her pace. He walked beside her instead of behind her as she was no longer a prisoner and she appreciated that.

She still couldn’t believe that after three years hiding behind a pseudonym she could finally live as herself and have her past known.

After navigating a few more corridors she had finally come to the reception area of the Met. It was light out so it was still day time. Many police officers walked about minding their own business while she saw several people being escorted in shackles down towards the cells. But standing in the centre of the room was the ever elegant Emilia who was beaming. She was a little disappointed that James was not with her but she could see him later. She was free after all.

Emilia’s deep red gown hugged her beautifully curved figure perfectly. It was short sleeved and was decorated in incredibly intricate silver embroidery. Alice envied Emilia’s gorgeous appearance when she most likely looked like an emaciated street rat.

Emilia opened her arms widely ready to receive Alice. Alice wasn’t sure whether Emilia would appreciate the fact that she smelt like the cells downstairs. Nevertheless, Alice welcomed the first physical contact she’d had in months. Emilia hugged her tightly and kissed her forehead repeatedly in a completely maternal way. Alice hadn’t felt cared for in such a way for a very long time.

“I came as soon as a I heard,” Emilia gushed, pulling Alice away from her person so that she could look at her. She cupped her face with both hands. “Look at you. There’s nothing to you. Weren’t they feeding you?”

“They were, but I was still hungry,” Alice replied.

Emilia frowned and ran her thumbs over Alice’s prominent cheeks bones. “We shall see to that. Alright, I’ve booked us a room at Mivart’s so that you can freshen up and feel human again. Then you shall move into Ethridge with us. I don’t want you on your own again.”

Alice assumed that Mivart’s was some form of hotel. London sported such beautiful buildings and she felt lucky to be entering another one. But moving into Ethridge? She couldn’t so a thing like that. Not only was it inappropriate but she would feel obligated to pay rent and she barely had a guinnea to her name.

“I couldn’t possibly …” Alice started but she was interrupted.

“Nonsense.” Emilia cut her off. “Darling, something you’ll learn about me is that I can’t help getting involved in absolutely everything. It comes with having more children than one can keep track of. You don’t have to be alone in this town anymore. We’ve more than enough room. You are too old to be adopted by Sebastian and me but we can still be your guardians and we can protect you as our ward. It is up to you of course but you would be very welcome.”

Alice had been under the impression that James might ask to court her now that a quick marriage wasn’t necessary. Perhaps he’d changed his mind. Living with a man that one was not married to was inappropriate amongst all classes.

“That is incredibly kind of you, Comtesse, but I couldn’t,” Alice said bashfully.

“You can and you will,” Emilia snapped. She wasn’t being rude, she was just being firm. “You are an incredibly special young lady, Miss Alice, and you deserve to feel safe. That’s all we want.”

Alice caved. She would like it very much. This woman was an incredible maternal figure. Her own mother, Marceline, has passed on when Alice was only twelve. Emilia reminded her of her own mother. Though, of course, Emilia was not a passionate republican. “Thank you, Comtesse,” Alice said gratefully.

“You may call me ‘Emilia, ‘Em’ or ‘Mama’. Anything else from now on and I won’t answer.”

Alice chuckled. “Very well,” she nodded.

“Now, let us leave. I can’t stand to be here any longer.” Emilia gestured for her to take her leave but Alice couldn’t leave just yet. She needed her rosary.

“I ‘ad a necklace – a rosary. Do you think they would still ‘ave it? It belonged to my maman.” Alice prayed that they would especially since the chain belonged to James’ grandmother.

“They’d better,” she said in a determined voice. “Wait here.” Emilia made her way over to the reception desk but Alice couldn’t hear what she was saying. The man behind the desk disappeared for roughly ten minutes before returning with Alice’s rosary in his hands. He handed it to Emilia who promptly turned around and held it up to Alice with questioning eyes. She was asking if it was the right one. Alice nodded.

Emilia brought the rosary to her and Alice gratefully accepted it, fastening the clasp. Feeling the familiar small weight around her neck made her feel slightly more human.

“Apparently all valuables are kept in a box until the end of the year and if they are not claimed they’re auctioned off or given away. I’m glad they didn’t get their hands on that pretty cross.” Emilia rolled her eyes. “Alright, now we must leave. I’ve had my usual room at the Mivart’s Hotel reserved for us. I’ve a hot bath and a fresh gown waiting for you. I’m the only one who knows you’ve been freed. I thought it would be a wonderful surprise if you walk in the door looking beautiful … not that you don’t already dear but your scent just indicates that you haven’t been in a pleasant place for a long while.”

Alice didn’t take offense. Instead she laughed. It was a nice idea. She’d rather James see her looking her best than her absolute worst. Though she had a feeling he wouldn’t mind. He’d knelt down on the ground in front of her jail cell and told her that he loved her. She hadn’t forgotten.

While in the carriage towards the Mivart’s Hotel, Emilia explained why she had an ongoing reservation. “It is not what you think,” Emilia promised her.

Alice presumed Emilia thought she suspected her of an affair. Any affair in Emilia and Sebastian’s marriage was preposterous. She’d never seen a more ‘in love’ couple. Not even her own parents compared to them.

“I had five children in quick succession and I refused to have any nurses or nannies. Imagine it, I had five children under the age of five and I needed some time out. So I came here one Tuesday afternoon and read a book, took a nap and had had some time to myself. It was exactly what I needed. So every so often I came here for some peace and quiet. And now it is twenty years later, the children are grown and moving on and I’m old.” Emilia laughed at herself as she slouched in the seat opposite Alice. Alice had never seen such a fine lady sitting so lazily. She liked it.

“You are not old, Comtesse,” Alice promised Emilia.

Emilia ignored her and instead looked out the window.

Alice rolled her eyes. “You are not old, Emilia,” she corrected herself.

Emilia’s head snapped back as she smiled. “You’re a treasure,” she said affectionately. “And I’ll pretend I believe you. But one thing you should know is that we all believe you – James more than anyone. We don’t know the full story of how you come to London, nor will we expect it, but you should know that Alice Devereaux is very much a part of our family. Jacqueline is forgotten.”

“Thank you,” Alice managed to say. “I will tell you all my story. I promise.”

“I’m glad,” Emilia replied.

The Mivart’s Hotel was a series of terrace houses that had been converted into beautiful rooms for guests. Emilia’s usual room was on the top floor so it had a nice view of the London streets. It was a nice room which consisted of a sitting room and a bedroom. The sitting room had two beautifully upholstered settees with a mahogany table between them. On the table was a selection of biscuits and cakes that looked too spectacular to eat. Shelves lined the walls sporting all sorts of objects from books to miniature sculptures. Everything was painted and decorated in different shades of white which colour accents to add a sense of luxury to the room. She’d never seen anything so magnificent.

Entering the bedroom just made Alice yearn for the large, four poster bed that lay in the middle. Sleeping in a cot for however long it had been had stolen precious sleep from her. There was a screen that blocked off the bath which smelled like roses. She didn’t want to take it for granted but she could get used to treatment like this.

“What is the date today?” Alice asked Emilia. She should probably know how long she’d been in prison for.

“Today? It is the fifteenth of August. Summer is nearly over. I personally love autumn. Especially when all the deciduous trees turn those gorgeous shades of orange. Now, hop in the bath. Would you like me to wash your hair for you?” she offered.

Alice had never had her hair washed by anybody before. She usually just dipped her head in a warm bucket of water and let it dry. She merely nodded.

“Alright, I’ll be in to do it in a moment.”

She sent Alice behind the screen to undress and get into the large, metal bath. The water was hot and there were fresh flower petals floating on the surface. Scented cakes of soap were on a tea plate on a small table beside the bath. Next to the tea plate was a bottle of champagne that was chilling as well as two glasses. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what all this was costing Emilia. She didn’t seem to mind though.

Alice removed her dirty dress and hung it over the screen and the proceeded to take off her chemise. She’d discarded her stockings weeks ago as there were more holes in them than actual material. She climbed into the bath and found that the water was at just the right temperature. She liked the bath. She’d never had one before. She held her breath and went under water so that her hair was wet as well.

Emilia came around the screen carrying a dining chair and set it behind the tub. She sat down and ran her hands over Alice’s wet shoulders. Alice felt incredibly relaxed. Emilia gently collected her hair into one of her hands and began to wash it with the cake of soap. “I used to do this for my daughters all the time. I loved it.”

“You are a very good mother,” Alice observed. It was obvious.

Emilia chuckled. “I don’t know about that. You should meet Sebastian’s mother. She is who I have always aspired to be like. She really helped me become the woman I am today. Before I met her, I was a bitter girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders. I couldn’t let Sebastian in. But she helped me as I will help you.”

Alice simply smiled as she relaxed her head into Emilia’s hands.

An hour later she was completely clean. Out of all the luxuries that Alice experienced, having her hair brushed was the best.

“On my wedding day, Sebastian’s mother, Catherine, just brushed and brushed my hair and I felt as though I finally had a mother to take care of me. I’m not asking to be your mother, Alice, I just want you to know that we’ll take care of you.” Emilia set the silver handled brush aside and proceeded to fasten Alice’s long, dark curls into a braid.

“Thank you, Emilia. I ‘aven’t ‘ad anyone to take care of me in a long time,” Alice replied contently. Seeing herself in the mirror was a little alarming. All her features were a little too defined because of the weight she had lost. She did look too thin. But all would be fixed after she started eating regular meals.

Once her hair was fixed in place atop her head, Emilia fetched a silk gown from the wardrobe and laid it out for her on the bed. “It might be a little big as the girls and I guessed your measurements but hopefully it will fit.” The gown was the prettiest thing Alice had ever seen. It was not a plain, dark, calico dress that she usually wore at the orphanage. It was a deep plum colour that had a tight bodice and yards and yards of layered fabric to create the large skirt. The sleeves were just strips of plum coloured lace which made the gown a little risqué but Alice liked the ‘rebel’ homage to her past.

“Thank you,” she breathed, coming over to the gown slowly. She daren’t blink for fear it might disappear. It was quite a narrow waisted gown so it looked like it might fit her new, thinner figure.

Emilia had all the appropriate underclothes. She allowed Alice to put on her own chemise and stockings but helped her tighten her corset and then button the gown. It was a little loose around the bust area but Emilia assured her that no-one would notice.

“I think it is time to go home. There will be a few people who want to see the good news for themselves.” Emilia smiled widely at her. “You are so beautiful. You and James will have such gorgeous children.” Her comment made Alice blush deeply. “Will you choose French names?”

To Alice ‘French’ names were just names as she had grown up around them. “I’d always imagined so.” She nodded. She wanted her brother’s name for her son and she wanted her parents to be highlighted in them as well, but perhaps not as first names. Jacques, François and Marceline.

“So long as you don’t choose ‘Jane’ I don’t mind what you call my grandchildren. We have too many Janes’ in the family,” she chuckled. “My sister – in – law and my daughter whom we’ve called Little J to avoid confusion. I don’t know what other name we could come up with – Smaller J?”

“I won’t,” Alice promised. She did think that French girls names were prettier after all.

After gathering their belongings and checking out of the hotel, Emilia and Alice were on their way back to Ethridge. Alice started to feel the nerved quite a bit. Her stomach was in knots as she rehearsed what she wanted to say when she and James were reunited. The last time they had seen each other she had been so sure it would be their last. She hadn’t said the words because she wanted him to be able to move on. Now she was free and if he still wanted her then she would never leave his side.

The carriage took them inside the gates of Ethridge and stopped at the steps before the front door. They were both helped from the carriage by footmen and Mr Carter, the butler, held the door open for them before either woman had the opportunity to knock.