Unchaining Alice

Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Alice awoke the next morning feeling more confused than ever. She didn’t know what to think about James. She didn’t know whether to hate him or to like him or to remember the values she was raised upon. Even entertaining thoughts of friendship between herself and an aristocrat like James would have had her mother and father, even Jacques, laughing.

But he seemed different then the aristocrats that her parents had described. He seemed kinder and more sincere, when he was no inebriated of course. But the way he’d comforted her the night before was purely gentlemanlike. He had no malicious or rakish intentions behind hugging her, he just wanted to calm her down.

They couldn’t be all horrible. Annie was once, still was, a lady. She was James’ younger sister and she’d never met a kinder woman. She’d grown up with money and she was selfless. Perhaps James was too. But what could he think of her? She’d made a hideous fuss over the money he’d given her and when he’d explained it she could see the sincerity in his eyes. He’d meant well and she had to go and be horrible about it.

Alice reached into her pillow case and pulled out the envelope that contained James’ letter and money. Just staring at it she felt lost. She’d felt lost for a long time but she’d never felt more lost then she did right now. She wished she had someone to confide in. She wished someone knew who she really was. How she longed to hear her real name being uttered. It had been three long years since she’d heard her name, the last to call it was her brother right before he’d died for her.

She’d let her guard down for the first time when James had visited the night before. She hadn’t meant to but she was frustrated and stubborn and she couldn’t help but mention France’s woes. What could James do about it? What could she do about it? There were no survivors. Jacques’ sacrifice was made in vain. She’d failed him.

The worst part was that she had no idea how to make it right again. She was one person. She couldn’t cross the channel and demand that the lower classes gain respect at the very least. Alice felt the tears begin to roll down her cheek. She pulled her rosary from inside her nightdress and pressed her lips to it. She was afraid to ask Joseph for the location of a Catholic church in London, she thought it might offend him. But she missed going each week. She liked listening to someone who knew more than her. The priest was someone she could depend on. One day she would go to confess and find out whether or not she would ever be forgiven.

“Miss Jacqueline, are you alright?”

Alice jumped in fright. She saw that her bedroom door was open and one of her older girls, seven year old Emily, was standing before her. She looked nervous, unsure of what to do because Alice was crying.

“Yes, yes, Emily. I am fine,” Alice promised, quickly wiping her eyes with her sleeve. “Are the children awake?” she asked.

Emily shook her head. “No, just me,” she replied. “I couldn’t sleep last night. I’m too excited.” Emily was being adopted. The couple that had come to visit had every intention to take him a baby but had instead fallen in love with Emily. And why wouldn’t they? She was a charming, young girl. Her new parents were coming to collect her later in the day so Alice had to make sure all her possessions were packed away and ready to go.