by Bella Bryce
“Uncle Damian’s nicer to me than you are and I’ve only met him twice,” Alice replied, plainly.
“How dare you,” Bennett said.
“He is! He actually likes me, unlike you, who punishes me for breathing wrong,” Alice said.
“I ought to bare your backside this moment,” Bennett said, visibly annoyed by her comment.
Alice felt a rush of intimidation run through her body. She did not want to experience being punished in the way she had previously that day, so she pressed her lips together and waited.
“You feel that Uncle Damian likes you more because he is more immature and casual than I am, and because of that you show him favour,” Bennett said.
Alice knew the comment was completely true, but she didn’t want to verbally confirm it, so she kept her eyes on Bennett and didn’t say a word.
“Well, let me tell you something,” Bennett said, and crouched down slowly toward Alice so that he was at eye level with her. “You will begin showing me affection and you will begin now, or I will wash your mouth out with soap each and every time I look after you and not without a jolly good beating to follow. Am I completely understood?” he asked, in a somewhat menacing tone.
“Yes, Sir,” Alice responded, frightened by how adamant he was.
“I thought as much. Lie down,” he said.
Alice timidly slid herself beneath the layers of bedclothes and looked up at Bennett. He had reached his peak of control for the evening and had done everything he had wanted to do, which was to exercise his ultimate authority over her.
Bennett bent down and kissed her forehead, then turned out her bedside lamp, said goodnight and closed the door behind him.
Alice laid in bed staring up at the canopy above her head; Bennett had made it abundantly clear that whether she liked it or not, he expected her to behave outwardly as if she truly loved, respected and looked up to him. He didn’t seem to care if she really did or not. And she wouldn’t challenge her Uncle Bennett because she’d experienced just how serious he was about every order he gave.
Bennett had walked down to Brayden’s study, poured himself a brandy and sat down to digest both it and the conversation he had just finished with Alice. He would never verbalise his desire to have what Brayden had; Alice, fatherhood over her and her very obvious loyalty and affections. But he wanted it desperately. Bennett on the other hand, considered what kind of sacrifice it would be when thinking about how it would affect his chances of taking a wife. If ‘adopting’ a girl for which the sole purpose would be to correct and discipline for his own pleasure (and her obvious consent) in a purely platonic manner would ever prevent him from having much the same relationship with a wife he would also be intimate with, then he wasn’t quite sure he wanted it. Whilst Brayden was perfectly happy fathering Alice and in no rush to marry, Bennett was contending the idea of having both, and in one person if possible. It was convenient for Bennett to enjoy the perks of being Alice’s Uncle whilst not having to commit the rest of his life to raising her, although he was dedicated to playing a sizeable role in her life and he very much wanted to be involved.
On the other hand, if Alice were allowed to ‘grow up,’ she would be the kind of girl he would take as his wife. But because of the context of his current relationship with Alice, he found himself disgusted by the idea – she was his niece because Brayden said she was and because of his longstanding friendship with him. Bennett respected that relationship immensely and took it very seriously and Bennett had every intention of being a good Uncle to Alice, including spending time with her, mentoring her, being available to help Brayden in her upbringing and ensuring there were seamless expectations between them when time was spent in either home. Bennett and Brayden were of the same mind when it came to disciplined lifestyle and both would require the same behaviour from Alice.
Bennett had already begun to think of how he would show her off to his friends from school; proudly telling them that Alice was his niece, whilst she stood beside him with her usual charming dresses, hair ribbons and demure expression. If Bennett told Alice to do something he knew she would verbally respond and obey in such a way which would communicate to his friends, ‘my niece, who isn’t even my own child, loves and respects me without question. She calls me “Sir” and looks up to me. What have you got?’ Bennett realised that if he would feel such pride, how much more would Brayden feel claiming Alice as his own daughter? Which brought Bennett back to his original desire . . . to write a solicitation of his own, or not?
Chapter Sixteen
Brayden was sitting at the head of the table as always, reading the newspaper, glancing at his watch every few moments and eyeing the dining room doors intermittently. Alice entered spot on time and ran along the long dining room table and dozen chairs until she reached Brayden, who frowned when he saw her running. Before he had a chance to tell her off, Alice reached him and threw her arms around him; Brayden was completely taken by surprise and put his newspaper aside and then pulled Alice onto his lap and cuddled her.
“I missed you last night!” Alice said, squeezing him as tightly as she could.
Brayden kissed her forehead.
“Oh my, what a lovely greeting,” he said, having had to respond more quickly than he would have liked. He was completely touched by Alice’s display of affection.
“Did you really?” he asked.
“Yes, Father, I did,” Alice said, still hugging him tightly.
“I’m right here,” he said, and continued cuddling her. He looked down at her bare thighs, which looked rather sweet only having red woollen socks pulled up to her knees and her black patent shoes, which were tucked beneath her red and black tartan pleated skirt as she huddled on Brayden’s lap. He held onto Alice for fifteen minutes, completely ignoring the staff that had begun laying the breakfast on the nearby sideboard, where they always served from. Brayden rocked Alice and kissed her forehead several times. Alice really didn’t want to move and he didn’t want to make her. All Brayden had wanted since the moment he chose Alice was for her to reciprocate the love he had for her. He wanted Alice to see him as her father and to feel naturally loyal and affectionate toward him; and he had his wish.
“Don’t leave me ever again,” Alice said, quietly.
Brayden pulled Alice away from his suit where she had planted herself, so that he could look at her.
“I will never leave you, Alice,” he said, looking at her seriously.
Alice stared back at him.
“Do you believe me?” he asked.
Alice slowly got off of Brayden’s lap and sat in her chair. She placed her napkin in her lap and quietly began eating her breakfast. Brayden couldn’t bring himself to press Alice again. He had made his point and hoped that one day she would trust him enough to believe those words.
“Uncle Bennett told me you were a very good girl for him. He said he taught you to play chess,” Brayden said, after a quiet moment.
“Started teaching me to play chess. He never finished,” Alice replied.
“Why is that?” Brayden asked.
“He made me go to bed at eight o’clock,” Alice said, resentfully.
“I’m sure he had good reason, and mind that tone,” Brayden warned, glancing at Alice.
She knew to mind what she said about Uncle Bennett out loud considering he was the number one Brayden fan at Waldorf Manor and vice versa. “Bloody boarding school gave them an unbreakable bond,” Alice thought to herself.
“So you enjoyed spending the evening with Uncle Bennett then?” Brayden asked, whilst Wellesley poured Alice a cup of tea after observing her orange juice goblet had been finished. Brayden very much wanted Alice to adore her Uncle Bennett and Uncle Damian and so was rather hopeful of a positive reply.
“Yes, Father,” Alice said, completely avoiding eye contact. Alice had no intention of telling her father that she had been extremely upset that Bennett had washed her mouth out with soap and secondly, that she felt he seemed to enjoy it. He had also told Brayden
that Alice had been ‘a very good girl’, so there was no point in creating a situation out of nothing. She wasn’t in trouble and that’s where she liked to stay, so she left it alone.
“I’m going to start your piano lessons straight after breakfast so once I’ve excused you, run along upstairs to get tidy and wash your hands,” Brayden said, peering at her over his coffee cup.
“Yes, Father,” Alice said. She couldn’t entirely complain – he had said he wanted her to learn and then decided to wait until she had been at Waldorf at least two months before holding her to his word. The time had finally come.
When it was time for her piano lesson Alice stood next to the large, imposing instrument feeling small and insecure. It was daunting to imagine trying to perform well at a task any girl her age should have learned years before, at least, in her opinion. Brayden wasn’t swayed or bothered by the fact that Alice’s mother hadn’t valued such skills and went about teaching her as his ten-year-old daughter, exactly as he saw her.
“Right, Alice, come here,” he said, nodding toward the bench. “Don’t look so frightened, my darling, it’s only a piano,” he said, allowing himself to laugh a little bit. Alice wasn’t amused and she did look frightened. Brayden kissed Alice on her forehead and then pushed the bench in for her once she had sat down. Alice couldn’t reach the pedals but she wouldn’t need to for a decent length of time, so Brayden concentrated on her posture and hand positioning.
“You know your alphabet quite well, don’t you?” Brayden asked, seemingly forgetting that Alice was meant to be ten, was really eighteen, and not four.
Alice gave Brayden a ‘that’s a silly question’, look.
“Well, do you?” he asked, keeping his tone light to enforce their perception of her age.
“Yes, Father,” Alice replied, unamused.
Brayden sat down on the bench beside Alice.
“Piano follows the first seven letters of the alphabet; A, B, C, D, E, F and G. After G, it begins again with A all the way along until you reach the last key. I’m going to take you through the white keys first and then the black. By the end of the lesson I will be able to point to a key and you will know the note,” Brayden said, confidently.
Alice declined to argue with Brayden about his belief in her. He very clearly had a mission in mind for the one hour they would spend in her first lesson and nothing would prevent him for completing it. And Alice admired that he felt so strongly about believing she could succeed.
Contrary to Alice’s original thoughts, she did indeed complete her first lesson and hit the goal of naming all the keys, even when they were out of sequence. Brayden was immensely proud and told Alice so in the most genuine tone of voice. Alice blushed and wasn’t able to maintain eye contact for fear of him seeing how deeply his praise had touched her.
“I’ll give you a one hour lesson every day except for the weekend, so you should be rather impressed with your own progress, which I imagine will pick up rather quickly. Don’t be surprised if you’re able to play proper music within a few months,” he said.
Alice wasn’t sure about his last comment, but if Brayden said that he believed she could, and then she believed him despite not quite trusting herself.
It was only several weeks later, entering into her fourth month living at Waldorf Manor (and two months of piano lessons) that Alice gave a short recital for the Fowlers and Brayden in their music room. She had a program of five very simple songs, but they were two-handed songs and she had to play them all from memory. Alice had learned and memorised the music under Brayden’s scrutinising eye. She had suffered several spankings during her lessons due to outright tantrums influenced by a serious lack of self-esteem on her part. Alice had also had an issue with concentrating and several times made very silly mistakes, to which Brayden remained patient until he felt she needed to refocus which was encouraged with a trip across his knee and a repeat of the musical exercise until Brayden was satisfied. Her lessons also increased from one hour to an hour and a half.
“I don’t want to do this stupid recital,” Alice mumbled, as Celia curled her hair into ringlets just an hour beforehand.
“Miss Alice, you don’t want your father to hear you speaking like that, I assure you,” Celia said, looking at Alice’s scowling face in the mirror.
Her head was full of ringlets and one large red satin hair bow on the left side where Celia had gathered a small section of curls to keep them out of her face. Celia had dressed Alice in a new dress Brayden had Harriet make for the recital especially, which was a red velveteen knee length with pleats running from the waist, long sleeves that fastened at the cuffs, small puffs on the shoulders and a smart top with a peter pan collar. She also wore starch white knee socks and her black patent t-strap shoes. At the last minute, Brayden had also invited Harriet, Kate and Maggie. He thought it was only fair for Harriet to see Alice in the dress she had designed and oversaw the making of.
Brayden always took the best care in dressing every morning but he was especially discerning whilst he reflected on the past four months – he was Alice’s father, and an extremely proud one at that – and it was her first piano recital. Considering the girl had never touched a musical instrument, even he was impressed with her progress. Brayden had been hard on her, but he knew that with consistent goal setting, discipline and repetition, Alice would be exactly where he expected her to be.
Brayden’s own gruelling schedule of childhood piano practise had been much the same, but even more intense. As soon as his parents had discovered from his teacher that he had potential, they mandated a six weekly lesson plan including two hours of practise whilst he was away at boarding school and increased to four and then six hours when he was home on weekends and on holidays. Brayden had loved piano so it wasn’t deeply regretted on his part, but his teacher had been so strict and corrective that Brayden rarely went ten minutes in any given lesson without having had his knuckles rapped or being bent across the bench to feel several flicks with the cane. And if Brayden’s teacher applied such correction, Brayden’s father followed it up with his own before bedtime that evening. Up until Brayden was twenty years old he had been with the same teacher and thus, the same predicament when he made mistakes. Just a few weeks before his twenty-first birthday, Brayden went through his entire three hour Saturday piano lesson with his teacher and didn’t receive a single ounce of correction – and that was the last lesson he ever received. His teacher had simply told him, “You no longer need me. And I am very proud of you.”
Brayden had been sad to see his teacher of twelve years disappear as if he had taken off on a cloud and but equally as glad that his father would no longer be ‘dealing’ with the ramifications of schoolboy piano mistakes. And because Brayden’s father hadn’t been musical at all, when Brayden practised after his teacher’s departure he hadn’t any idea when or if Brayden made mistakes, and so by the time he was twenty-one he no longer endured punishment for them. For other indiscretions, but not for piano.
Brayden felt very strongly about punishment and discipline anyway, but especially when teaching Alice piano. He was quite gentle with her in the very beginning because her state of esteem was non-existent. Once he had built her up and showed her she was quite capable of success, even in its smallest form, then he began implementing discipline for mistakes. There were also several trips across his knee for answering back and arguing, which would have happened anywhere – it just so happened it sometimes occurred during a lesson. One time, Alice had been told that one particular note in the song she was practising was a G flat and she played G sharp three times in a row. Brayden refused to repeat it a fourth time and that’s when he swiftly reminded her across his knee it was flat, not sharp. Alice remembered rather keenly after that.
Brayden had chosen grey pinstriped trousers, a white tailored shirt, a grey solid-coloured waistcoat, and a grey pinstriped jacket. He also wore a black tie and his black brogues. Wellesley had tucked a small red satin pocket square into his jacket in
conjunction with Alice’s red dress for the recital.
Wellesley left Brayden when he had been told cars were arriving. The Fowlers had ridden separately; Jon and Evelyn in their chauffeured car whilst Bennett wanted to drive his Jaguar with Damian as his passenger. Harriet, Kate and Maggie arrived via Harriet’s husband driving his Bentley.
Alice remained upstairs, kneeling on the window seat observing the cars as they entered through the Waldorf Manor gates, pretty much in succession. Her stomach turned and she became nervous. Alice did not want to perform in front of anyone, despite knowing she could perform the pieces. She had had more than enough practise.
“Might I have a word with the young musician?” Brayden’s voice sounded.
Alice turned around and stood up from where she had been kneeling in the window seat, to find him in the doorway. He looked so handsome and so proud. Alice could see it on his face – he simply couldn’t wait to watch her play. Brayden walked toward Alice and put his hands on her shoulders when he reached her.
“Don’t be nervous, and do not worry,” he said, and then kissed her forehead softly. “Ten minutes, darling,” he said, and left her bedroom.
Alice stood there, his affection still lingering in the space around her. She could hardly remember growing up on the council estate twenty minutes away, or her abusive and alcoholic mother, or the odd jobs she’d worked since leaving school at sixteen. Alice felt like a new person; and she really was. She was Alice Kathryn Lillias James who had been adopted by Brayden James; she was in his Will, she had a trust fund, she had an extended family built from two decades worth of relationship he had built throughout his own childhood. She had love and affection from a father who in reality was only two handfuls elder than her. Alice felt as though she’d been given a bit of a start-over in life and Brayden encouraged it. He wanted her to have some of the years that had been unjustly stolen from her. Alice thrived at Waldorf under his supervision and although she was still settling in, she felt comfortable.
