by Bella Bryce
She couldn’t believe she was about to descend the grand staircase and enter the music room to find eight people whose acquaintance she had made (with the exception of Harriet’s husband) since moving to Waldorf who couldn’t wait to see her play an instrument she had been learning for only two months. It was such a different life to the one she had previously lived, and one that she would never trade. It came with its parameters and expectations, but the return far outweighed any kind of implied sacrifice.
Brayden had been in the foyer waiting as Wellesley answered the door and greeted his guests. It was May in England, but it still didn’t feel like summer. It was chilly enough for a light coat and scarves, which Brayden’s uniformed staff handled with the greatest of care.
Harriet and her husband, Simon, were first through the door, followed by her two assistants, Kate and Maggie. Brayden greeted all of them and then allowed Celia, who had changed from her usual candy striped housekeeper uniform into her formal black and white one, to escort the first group of guests into the music room.
Jon and Evelyn arrived just after and were anxious to see Alice the moment they arrived.
“She’s just preparing, she’ll be down in a moment,” Brayden said, glancing at the nearby grandfather clock. She had precisely two minutes and four seconds to do so before she would be considered late. Brayden did not condone lateness.
Bennett and Damian arrived less than a minute after their parents, having driven separately behind them. Brayden shook their hands and they stood chatting until Brayden excused himself two minutes later to begin ascending the staircase. Alice suddenly appeared and he stopped to watch her come down toward him. She looked every bit his ten-year-old child and his heart melted. The guests had all been seated in the music room and so Brayden escorted Alice in on his arm and to the front of the room near the piano. Once he had thanked everyone for coming he sat in the front row beside Bennett to observe.
Alice calmly walked to the piano, pulled the bench in behind her and then hopped up onto it. Evelyn put her hand over her chest and gave Jon an admiring look. He patted her knee and smiled. Jon had always wished he could have given his wife a little girl, but it hadn’t happened. But Jon was glad she was able scrape some kind of vicarious living through Brayden’s situation.
All five songs were originals composed and written by Brayden. Alice had played through each piece, then got down off of the bench and curtseyed to the audience before sitting down and beginning the next piece. Her small audience had all been given programmes so they were aware of the titles and length of each piece; none of which exceeded three minutes. Brayden listened intently whilst Alice played, noting three places where her finger played an A instead of a B, a sharp instead of a natural and a complete pass over on several rests – Alice had a real tendency to skip her rests, or to cut them short. Brayden had even counted them out for her and told her, ‘now this is a four beat rest darling, so do not play until we’ve counted to four.’ Alice would invariably begin playing before he’d reached ‘four.’ That counted as disobedience because he knew she could count to four.
Brayden kept a mental note of her mistakes and was extremely proud regardless. He had expected more obvious mistakes, but she hadn’t made any according to the reviews by his honoured guests afterward. They all stayed in the music room to chat and to drink champagne and then went through to the dining room for luncheon.
“I would like to raise a toast, to my darling little girl, Alice. I am so proud of her today on her first piano recital and am grateful to have you all here to encourage her.”
“Here, here,” everyone repeated, and raised their champagne glasses to toast. Alice had blushed and toasted with a goblet of orange juice.
Kate and Maggie had only just learned that Alice’s chronological age was not ten, but indeed eighteen, but wouldn’t believe it when they had been told. They themselves were twenty-one and twenty-two and couldn’t imagine being taken back several years to have some sort of second childhood. They found the whole situation rather intriguing but didn’t ask further questions, especially considering Harriet was their boss and a dear friend of Brayden’s.
After luncheon, Harriet, her husband Simon and Harriet’s assistants all thanked and congratulated Brayden and Alice before departing. The Fowlers stayed and they all moved to the drawing room to extend their socialising in the comfort of the large room with various furniture arranged in zones. Wellesley brought in the tea trolley, which also contained homemade pastries from chef.
Alice was sat on Evelyn’s lap at her request, and much to Alice’s dislike. She loved her Aunt Evelyn, but the woman became rather fussy whenever Alice was around. Evelyn was known for being a rather severe woman but the moment she saw her adopted niece her pitch went up two octaves and she became someone who pinched cheeks and tapped noses. She had a habit of rearranging Alice’s hair, straightening her hair ribbons, the sashes on her dresses, her collars and very often pulled Alice onto her lap to cuddle her. Brayden was glad there was at least one female around to show her proper maternal affection, even if it was only once a week if not twice, which was how often they usually saw the Fowlers.
“When is the next recital?” Bennett asked, crossing one of his legs over the other.
“It depends on the progress she makes. If she continues at this rate, I should think another two months would see an even better recital yet,” Brayden said, before sipping his tea.
“When was the last time you gave one?” Evelyn asked, straightening Alice’s already perfectly straight hair ribbon. She was more than aware of the gruelling schedule and discipline Brayden underwent in his youth whilst studying piano.
“I don’t do recitals anymore,” Brayden said, replacing his cup into the saucer.
“Why not?” Alice piped up.
“Because, darling, I don’t need to,” Brayden replied.
“How many did you do when you were growing up?” Alice asked.
Bennett and Damian both chuckled and looked at Brayden.
“Nobody knows,” Damian said.
“Too many to count, my love,” Brayden said.
“When your father was still in junior school he gave recitals by order of his piano teacher here at home. His parents hosted one, much like today, for their friends and of course we came along, every four months, or six months?” Bennett said, looking at Brayden for clarification.
“Six months,” Brayden confirmed.
“I remember your father pulled you out of one recital by the ear because after one particular mistake your piano teacher visibly cringed. He thanked everyone for coming, escorted you out and straight up to his study. We all knew you were in trouble,” Bennett said.
“Thank you, Bennett,” Brayden said.
Alice smirked and her eyes wandered from Damian to her father.
“Were you in a lot of trouble?” Alice asked.
“I was,” Brayden said, looking at Alice. “My father did not like paying a yearly salary to a piano teacher who cringed because I had made silly mistakes, especially in front of a music room full of their friends and colleagues.”
Alice’s eyes widened.
“I daresay your father will have a word with you soon enough, young lady,” Bennett said, raising his eyebrows at Alice. “He’s not the only one who noticed that dissonance chord you played where it shouldn’t have been.”
“I wrote it dissonance in that piece but not where she played it,” Brayden said.
All eyes were on Alice for a moment and she gave Brayden an innocent look.
“Not to worry darling, I am not my father and will at least wait until everyone leaves before I put you across my knee for your mistakes,” Brayden said.
Alice would have otherwise not found it very funny, but she knew that Brayden was indeed good to her and that he would never punish her for fun. She had completely expected some kind of reckoning for her fingers rushing too quickly over the keys instead of slowing down to play them properly. Evelyn pulled Alice closer t
o herself whilst still on her lap and smoothed the skirt of her recital dress so the pleats lay neatly. Alice wanted to roll her eyes and get off of Aunt Evelyn’s lap but it would have been viewed as highly insulting and quite rude, so she stayed on her lap until the Fowlers took their leave.
“Father, please don’t be cross with me, I really hadn’t meant to embarrass you when I made those mistakes,” Alice said, when the front doors closed and Brayden had turned to face her. Wellesley was standing nearby and had looked at his young master, noting for himself the sincere level of respect he could see Alice had for him.
Brayden looked up at Wellesley and then back down at Alice.
“Let’s have a little chat down here in the drawing room, shall we?” he asked, and held out his hand to Alice.
Brayden indeed didn’t become cross with Alice, nor did he punish her that afternoon. He felt a greater lesson for both of them had been learned, which was a lesson in balance. Alice had presented herself for the recital in good attitude, performed well and carried on until the guests had left exactly as he expected her to behave. Brayden on the other hand, found that although it was engrained in him to not accept mistakes of any kind especially during a performance, found that Alice had been sincerely concerned about Brayden’s honour throughout. She had even handled the potentiality of being punished in front of other guests without complaint or argument. Brayden would indeed at her next lesson, in an effort to show a clear division between her impressive behaviour at the recital and her musicality, give her at least a dozen smacks in direct relation to the technical errors made in her performance. Alice would know very plainly then that it was purely a matter of technique and concentration. And whether Brayden knew it or not, Alice fully expected him to. She couldn’t think her father would simply overlook mistakes in pieces she had practised blindfolded during her lessons would be allowed. Alice wanted to become a skilled pianist if nothing else, simply because she never thought she would be able to do such a thing and the opportunity was there in front of her.
Chapter Seventeen
By July and Alice’s sixth month, Alice began to feel as though she’d never had a life before Waldorf and her father, Brayden James. Despite having spent eighteen years prior in the same situation, those six months with Brayden overrode many of her memories. And for Alice it was a good thing because very few of those memories were sincerely pleasant. She should have perhaps felt homesick by that point when in fact, she neither missed nor desired to miss her mother. Alice thought about her friends, her Nan and her Aunty, but for all they knew Alice was off living by herself, working, trying to find her way into adulthood. Nobody knew she was actually living life as a ten-year-old child to one of the country’s wealthiest young men. And Alice had no desire to make contact with anyone from her past. Alice considered these things as she knocked on Brayden’s open study door.
“Good morning, darling, come in,” Brayden said, standing up to acknowledge her presence.
Alice walked in and around the desk to kiss him good morning.
“Morning, father. Celia said you wanted to see me before breakfast,” Alice said.
“I did, my love, let’s come and sit over here, shall we,” Brayden said, and lead Alice across his study to the seating area near the fireplace, which had only just stopped being lit a few weeks before. English weather had a mind of its own and very often confused the months of June and July with December and January.
“Am I in trouble?” Alice asked, when she observed they were sitting across from each other. Alice sat on the tufted leather sofa and Brayden took his leather wing chair and leaned forward in order to be face to face with Alice.
“You’re not in trouble at the moment, no. If you were I certainly wouldn’t be sitting at eye level with you,” Brayden said.
“Oh,” Alice said. She was still learning about things like that; signs that could easily reveal the direction a conversation might go even before Brayden spoke.
“I need to speak to you very plainly, darling, and whilst you know I do not formally acknowledge that you are eighteen years old, I really must tap into that part of you for a moment. You are and always will be a little girl to me, I simply cannot help but think so. The reality of the situation is that I do not feel it’s completely fair for you to pretend as though you never had a life before coming to Waldorf,” Brayden began.
“If you’re going to tell me I have to speak to my mother I won’t do it,” Alice said, feeling upset at the prospect.
“Alice,” Brayden said, seriously.
Alice sat back against the sofa, still maintaining her good posture. She knew to keep quiet from that point unless asked.
“I am not telling you to speak to your mother. I fully expect you to send her a Christmas card this year, but that is beside the point. What I’m telling you is that I realise you’ve had a life before coming here, I can’t ignore that because it would be ridiculous. I don’t live in a fantasy world but I very much control everything that makes Waldorf what it is and how it appears to everyone else. Likewise, that I must acknowledge you had friendships and memories before you came here, so have I. They were few and far between because I like being at home. Greystone Hall and the Fowlers are the exception,” Brayden said.
Alice wasn’t quite sure where the conversation was heading, but she didn’t quite like it.
“I did, however, attend boarding school for ten years, and studied here at home three years for university under a tutor. When I had to take exams and attend tutorials, obviously it was necessary to interact and socialise with other students. These classmates came from various backgrounds, not all similar to mine. I still keep in contact with a handful of them, although several I’ve not seen for a few years. I feel it’s important to tell you, Alice, that I wish to introduce you to someone whom I’ve reconnected with. Her name is Jade.”
Alice gritted her teeth, slid off the sofa and angrily made her way across the study toward the door.
“Alice!” Brayden said, more shocked than angry and stood up. He should have been absolutely furious that she dared to leave his presence without being excused.
“I knew it!” Alice shouted, turning to face Brayden, who was making his way across the room to her. Tears formed in her eyes and she began to cry, unable to move from where she stood, frozen with anger and feelings of betrayal.
“Darling,” Brayden said, his voice light and compassionate. He pulled her into his arms and then picked her up and held onto her where he was. Alice continued crying, but she leant back to look at him.
“No, put me down, you don’t want me anymore,” Alice said, pathetically.
“Alice,” Brayden said, gently, meeting her eyes. “I told you I would never leave. Do I ever break my word?” he asked.
Alice sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
“No, Sir,” she said, quietly.
“And do you know why?” Brayden asked.
Alice looked at him for a moment and then shook her head.
“Because my word is my honour as a gentleman. And I couldn’t possibly ever stop wanting you,” he said, pulling Alice into him and cuddling her. Alice began a fresh cycle of tears, overwhelmed by the impending situation and the realisation of Brayden’s words.
“I think we need some tea,” Brayden said, and walked across the study, rang for Wellesley and sat down in his wing chair with Alice in his lap. She sat sideways and leaned against his blazer whilst he stroked her hair.
Wellesley brought in a tea tray and poured a cup each for Brayden and Alice quietly, observing the moment between them was rather solemn.
“Sit across from me darling, so I can see you,” Brayden said, helping Alice off of his lap and watching her return to the place she had previously occupied. Wellesley left the study and Brayden looked at Alice, who was quietly stirring her third sugar cube into her tea. She rested the dainty spoon in the saucer and slouched her shoulders, knowing the conversation would carry on.
“Alice, look
at me please,” he said.
Alice did.
“I have no intention of bringing anyone into this house in a manner that could ever be considered similar to the way your mother did. Alright? Jade is a friend, a former classmate and I would only like to have dinner with her. That is all,” Brayden said.
“To begin with,” Alice mumbled.
“Yes, to begin with. I shan’t condone any kind of behaviour beyond that unless we were married. You must know, Alice, that the kind of behaviour I expect of you is a reflection of the very same I have for myself. Do you trust your father to be a perfect gentleman to Jade?” he asked.
Alice nodded. She knew for a fact that Brayden was trustworthy, and the only person in her life she had ever really had faith in.
“You’re always a gentleman,” Alice said, shyly.
“Thank you, Alice,” he said.
“Although, I am not saying this dinner will turn into anything further, I am also telling you that if it does I expect you to carry on exactly as things are. If you are upset by it you are to wait until we may speak privately and then you are to tell me appropriately; in a respectful manner. I don’t want to see any outward signs of rebellion, in front of Jade or anyone else, if her name arises in conversation. Do you understand?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” Alice replied, quietly.
“You are entitled to your feelings and I will always listen when you tell me about them, but under no circumstance will I allow you to behave in a way that is disrespectful. I am making you aware now because if I hear or see any kind of behaviour that overtly displays anger or resentment, I will escort you to the nearest chair and show you just how serious an offense it is. Jade or anyone else does not need to know about such feelings, especially seeing as though at this point it is only dinner. Has all of this been made very clear?” Brayden asked.
“Yes, Father,” Alice said, still rather quiet and solemn.
“Alright, now drink your tea, darling, before it goes cold,” he said.
She quietly sipped her tea meanwhile thoughts of this woman, Jade, swirled around her head. Alice hated her. She didn’t even know her and she hated her. Although, she knew Brayden expected her to ‘act’ as though she did in front of Jade, she would scowl and frown at every opportunity behind her back. It was the only way she could express her disdain for the woman who most probably would take all of the attention and affections Brayden had for her.
