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When she looked at her mother, she felt a revelation rushing toward her, like a carriage slipping off the road in the rain, and she was powerless to stop it. Tears streamed down the woman's cheeks, but Alice couldn't find a way to soften her outrage. She glared angrily at the Duke, almost daring him with her eyes to be the one to speak the truth. "Who?" she asked, knowing the answer.
“The previous Duke of Fitzroy,” the Duke whispered. “My father."
“So you are my father,” Alice blurted out and stared at him. The ramifications of this revelation were staggering. If she had not been seated, she surely would have lost her footing.
“I am,” he whispered. “I am so sorry that I did not acknowledge you, Alice. More sorry than you can ever know."
It was suddenly too much to bear. Alice did not care if he was dying or if he was now her mother’s husband. She did not care that he held even more power over her than he did before. Her fury was incandescent.
“You say I am your child, yet I have spent my life toiling as a servant in your household,” Alice said. She was shaking with indignation. "And you continued to employ my mother after forcing her to bear a child out of wedlock like she was nothing but a courtesan. No, worse than that. You did not even give her the benefits of a real mistress. You did not set her up in a lovely house in London. Did not give her fine jewels or clothes. Did not even give her the opportunity to find a new protector if you ever tired of her. You kept her trapped here under your own roof, condemned to a life of drudgery and disdain simply for your own enjoyment.”
“Alice do not say such things!” her mother admonished.
“No, my dear, do not scold her. She has a right to her anger,” the Duke rasped, squeezing her mother’s hand. He looked at Alice with a broken expression on his face that startled her. “Alice, you must understand that I have never loved anyone but your mother. I tried to protect her as best I could under the circumstances. I know that I failed you both. I was wrong not to stand up to my father, but I am trying to make up for it by doing this."
“Doing what?” Alice asked. She struggled to understand how the Duke felt he had protected either of them. Where was he when her mother was called a whore? When she had to endure the advances of the male staff and visiting nobleman who believed she should lift her skirts for them since she did it so obligingly for her master? Where was he when Alice was called cruel names and pushed around, sometimes physically, because she was nothing but the daughter of a common doxy?
“As you know, I have no other children,” the Duke said. “You and your mother will have an abundant inheritance upon my death. More than enough to live the life of luxury you should have had all along. I have also petitioned the crown and have been awarded a special dispensation. Your firstborn son will inherit my title, Alice. He will become the next Duke of Fitzroy with all that entails."
“It is so generous, my darling,” her mother said, sniffing and wiping her tears away with a handkerchief.
Alice was speechless. The thought of becoming an heiress was absurd. Would she now be ushered into society like a whey-faced debutante? The idea was so overwhelming that she lost some of her rage to nausea. And if she ever had a son, he would be a duke. She couldn't think of anything she wished for less. It was unthinkable that her child would inherit the title of the man who had ruined her mother and forced her to work in his kitchens.
“I know it is not enough to make up for my mistakes,” the Duke said, his eyes fixing longingly on Alice’s face as if he hoped she would contradict him. “I have wronged you both, but I hope this action will help earn some forgiveness."
“It is enough, my love,” her mother said desperately, grasping her new husband’s hand. “Isn’t it, dear Alice? It is more than enough.”
Nothing could be further from the truth in Alice's mind, but she saw the pleading expression on her mother's face and could not contradict her.
Despite the whirlwind of fear, fury, and despair inside of her, she could never knowingly cause her mother pain. Holding her breath tightly and not trusting herself to speak, Alice looked at the old Duke, at herfather,and nodded curtly.
"Thank you, my child," the Duke whispered, reaching his other hand for hers. Alice let him take it, feeling numb, noticing absently how cold and papery his skin felt. "Now, some people are coming to meet you both this evening. They will help you acclimate to your new positions in the coming days."
Alice nodded once more. She had no idea what was expected of her going forward, but she knew she would do her best for the sake of her mother. The new Duchess would require her daughter's assistance, and Alice promised herself that she would do whatever it took to help.
Alice was given accelerated lessons in deportment and etiquette over the next few weeks, and she was tasked with learning the names and titles of the peerage. It was a complicated process, but Alice immersed herself in her studies.
Her mother was allowed to skip such lessons because she had previously worked as a lady's maid and possessed the necessary knowledge. She spent almost all of her time at the Duke's side, only leaving for fittings with the dressmaker, who came to the manor on a regular basis, or for the few callersshe received as the new Duchess. Alice was also forced to sit through countless fittings for her new wardrobe. She could avoid awkward encounters with the curious nobility because she was not considered 'out' to society, which was a welcome relief.
However, she had to make time to visit the old Duke. His health was failing rapidly, and her mother begged her to spend time with her father before it was too late. Towards the end of his life, these visits mainly consisted of Alice sitting by his bedside and listening to his labored breaths while her mother sat beside her, quietly telling her stories of her relationship with the Duke. Alice suspected that most of these tales had been romanticized in her mother's mind to make them more palatable. Still, she held her tongue and listened dutifully.
One morning some eight weeks after Alice learned of her parentage, the Duke had lapsed into unconsciousness. She and her mother had been summoned by the physician immediately. They sat vigil by his side well into the evening. A storm raged outside as Alice watched a ragged breath slowly exhale from her father's lips for the last time. She watched as her mother cried out and fell onto the bed, pressing her face against the Duke's still chest, and sobbing piteously, begging him to stay with her.
She allowed her mother to grieve for a time before ringing for the butler. She informed the man of the Duke's passing and asked him to summon the Duchess's lady’s maid, a former chamber maid recently elevated in status, and the physician. After they settled her mother into her room and gave her a dose of laudanum to calm her, Alice returned to her father's chambers.
She stood over the man who had sired her in silence and felt a tear escape her eye. For her entire life, he had wielded power over her and her mother, and in the end, he was nothing more than a wretched old man with more regrets than joys. Alice felt sorrow for this as well as for herself. Not because she had been denied the luxuries that should have come with being a Duke's daughter, but because she had never had the chance to get to know the Duke as a father. So many opportunities had been taken away from her — ithurt her to imagine what kind of relationship she and the Duke could have had if he had been brave enough to claim it.
She allowed her tears to flow freely for all they had lost as individuals and as a family. When her tears were spent, she leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss against the Duke's cold, wrinkled cheek.
"You have my forgiveness, father. But I can never allow a child of mine to be anything like you," she murmured as she straightened.
Her father had been born into one of England's highest stations, but it had not provided him with the life he desired. He had been forced to conform to society's expectations. He'd married someone he didn't love and couldn't respect. He had kept his love in the shadows rather than face his father's wrath and lose his fortune. He'd abandoned his only child until it was almost too late, and for what? In the end, what did being a duke gain him?
Nothing of real value, of that Alice, was sure. She turned and walked to the door. Before departing, she looked at her father one last time and made a silent vow. She would bear no child who would be forced to make the kind of choices the Duke and her mother had. The Fitzroy name would end with her.
CHAPTERTHREE
One year later
