Page 36 of A Seaside Scandal (Change of Heart #2)

Chapter Twenty-Three

JONATHAN

Iwas not unrealistic enough to assume that my painting of Alice was a proper depiction of her beauty, but I had tried my best. The portrait was complete, and though it was no match for the professional portraits that hung in the gallery, it would suffice until I procured another portrait of her to hang beside my own.

The ball was in two days, and though Alice had been busy making preparations, she had still made time to sit with me while I finished the painting.

She held tightly to my arm, stepping directly onto my foot. “Sorry!” she exclaimed.

“Would you please watch where you’re going?” I glanced down at her blindfolded face. Perhaps the blindfold had been unnecessary, but she seemed the sort who would have peeked prematurely out of curiosity.

I could only imagine the scowl that must have existed behind the fabric. “I am never allowing you to blindfold me again,” she mumbled.

“I didn’t lead you into any walls.”

“Not yet.”

I debated leaving the blindfold on a moment longer, if only to keep her clinging to my arm as she was. In most instances, she retracted her touch or shied away from mine. But at the moment, her fingers dug between my muscle and bone, and I wasn’t certain if she meant it to hurt or not.

I chuckled, taking her by the shoulders and positioning her in front of the wall. My hands lingered on her upper arms for a moment before I untied the blindfold from behind her head.

I lowered it from her face, and she gasped.

“Jonathan!” She had only looked at the painting for less than two seconds before she whirled to face me. “It’s lovely!”

I smiled. “I’m glad you like it.”

She turned toward the wall again. I moved to stand beside her, watching the side of her face as she studied every corner of the painting.

I had shown her my progress at the beginning but had left the rest a surprise.

The depth of her countenance couldn’t be properly depicted on a flat surface, but I had tried to show the kindness in her eyes, mingling it with the fiery strength that was difficult to portray.

I had painted her lips curved in a soft smile.

I couldn’t imagine her likeness being in an ever-serious state.

It didn’t suit her, even though she so often tried to look stern.

“I know the quality isn’t consistent with the other portraits,” I said in a rushed voice, “but I intend to commission a three-quarter length for you as soon as possible.”

She shook her head. “No…I love this one. I told you before how I feel about gifts.”

She didn’t have to clarify; I recalled what she meant. That day in the souvenir shop, she had said that it isn’t the grandeur of a gift that matters, but the intent and effort.

“You spent hours on this.” Her gaze wandered back to my face. “I shall treasure it always.”

Warmth spread through my chest. I hadn’t expected her to appreciate it that much.

I smiled. “This isn’t the only gift I have for you this morning.” I extended my arm for her to take.

Her eyes rounded. She gave me a curious look before wrapping her hand around my elbow. “Must I wear the blindfold again?”

“Not this time. I should like to keep my toes intact.”

She laughed, but still shot me a glare as she followed my lead down to the vestibule.

“Are we going to be late for church?” She glanced at the clock on the nearest wall. Today would be our first public appearance as a married couple, and Alice’s first opportunity to be introduced to several of our neighbors.

“Perhaps we should be,” I said. “It might cause yet another scandal.”

She shrugged. “I should like that very much. I am not fond of these women already if they have been unkind to Margaret.”

I smiled. I loved how defensive she had become of my sister. “They have never done anything directly malicious toward her. What vexes me most is that they sympathized so deeply with my mother. I have no wish to invite any of them inside Southcliff Manor.”

Alice’s eyes hardened. “Nor do I.”

Again, a smile pulled on my mouth.

In the vestibule, Alice put on her gloves and a bonnet with yellow flowers.

The late summer weather had begun to show the first signs of autumn, a slight chill drifting through the seams of the front door.

Alice twisted her hands together with a nervous look.

“I suspect we will be the center of attention today. Do you think the women will attempt to befriend me? I wonder if they might ignore me altogether.”

“Surely you will be better off for it.” I gave her a reassuring smile. “But since I know how you tend to become rather overwhelmed in churches…” I reached inside my jacket and withdrew the fan I had purchased in Brighton. “This is for you—in the instance that you become faint again.”

Her jaw lowered, but then she laughed, snatching the fan from my hand.

“I told you I never faint. That was a very rare occurrence. Marrying you so suddenly was the only cause of my faintness that day.” She opened the fan, examined the scenic drawing of Brighton.

“We were surrounded by gossipmongers in the churchyard too, so I suppose that might have had something to do with it.”

“You must try not to care what they think of you today,” I said. “It doesn’t matter.”

She fluttered the fan with a serious look. “I don’t enjoy being perceived as scandalous. Everyone at church will see me as such if they’ve heard the details of our marriage.”

I laughed, sweeping my gaze over the soft curve of her cheek.

I wanted to touch her face, to reassure her, but my hand remained pinned at my side.

What if she didn’t want me to? I was a coward when it came to Alice.

My heart ached, but I pushed away the feeling.

I smiled instead. “Then let us convince them all that we are madly in love. Let them believe our marriage wasn’t forced at all. ”

Her eyes flew up to mine, then down to the floor. “That might be difficult.”

“Why?”

She adjusted her gloves, a hint of color rising to her cheeks. She didn’t answer my question, but instead posed her own. “How do you suggest we convince them?”

I extended my arm in her direction again, feeling a sudden wave of courage. “Leave it to me.”

She shot me a suspicious look before taking my elbow. As we took our seats in the waiting carriage, I noticed a blush on her cheeks. That was encouraging, at least. I watched the color fade slowly as we made our way down the road toward the church.

The small stone building came into view a few minutes later.

Kent was not Brighton. Its congregation was smaller, its scrutiny sharper.

Today we would be displayed before them like curiosities in a glass case.

It didn’t bother me like I knew it might bother Alice.

I was accustomed to scrutiny, thought I wished she didn’t have to be subjected to it.

A surge of protectiveness rose up in my chest as we stepped out of the carriage and made our way toward the churchyard.

It wasn’t enough to have Alice’s hand on my arm.

I wrapped my opposite hand over her fingers.

She threw me a shy look. “Does the act begin now?” she whispered.

My heart stung a little. What was an act to her, was far too real to me. Perhaps I shouldn’t have made the suggestion to pretend we were in love, but it was too late.

I nodded.

The bridge of her nose wrinkled, and the adoring smile she gave me made my stomach flip over. She had never given me that look before, but now I would dream of it. Her hand tightened around my arm, pulling me closer.

She was an excellent actress.

The observation raised alarms in my head.

She had pretended to like me before—that day we had ridden horses on the Steine with her brother and Miss Lyons.

‘Her plan’ had been underway, and she had almost executed it perfectly.

I tried to push away my worries, but they clung to me as we stepped inside the old church.

The air was cool, and it smelled faintly of damp stone.

Alice walked beside me down the narrow aisle, her head held high despite the dozens of eyes fixed upon her.

I recognized several of the faces, though I didn’t linger long on any of them.

The neighborhood thought me reclusive and opposed to socialization…

which was not entirely untrue. When I attended church alone, I was always greeted with polite questions, though they never felt genuine.

But with my new wife on my arm, I could already sense the deep curiosity of every single person in the pews. They were measuring Alice—scrutinizing her—surely speculating about how our marriage had come about.

We slid into a pew halfway down. The oak creaked beneath us.

“That was dreadful,” Alice whispered. “I wonder what they are thinking.”

My heart pounded. The boldness I had felt earlier that morning returned, especially with so many eyes watching us. I leaned close to her ear until my lips nearly touched it. “They are thinking about how beautiful you look.”

Her cheeks flamed, which had been my goal. If they were observant at all, the gossipmongers would have to assume I had said something flirtatious.

Alice turned to face me, a nervous smile hovering on her lips. “No, they are not.”

I dipped my head close to hers again, that maddening scent of citrus and sugar rising to my nose. I lowered my voice. “Well, it’s what I was thinking of.”

Her eyes widened, her gaze dropping away from mine. I debated pressing a kiss to her cheek. I stopped myself just in time. That would have been too much. Instead, I reached over to her lap and took her hand, pressing a kiss to the back of her glove.