As the clock struck 7, post meridian to be precise, Alice finished getting ready for the small family gathering taking place at said time. Alice's sister Margaret had called for it suddenly, saying that she had some important news. Assuming she was simply just pregnant again, Alice was not phased by the suddenness of it. Though it would just be Alice, her mother, Margaret, Lowell and their two small children, Alice's mother had insisted that she be dressed properly. Corset (and stockings), in all.
Alice had always objected to corsets since her young age of wearing the unboned contraptions. As a child, she tolerated them, simply because it was considered in her best interest to help her develop good posture. But when she became of ten years, she was then forced to wear steal or whalebone corsets. At every turn, Alice got out of wearing them. Her parents, especially her father, let her get away with it for a long while, until men started seriously turning their attention to her. If she was old enough to be courted (though Alice avoided that as much as corsets and stockings) she was old enough to endure the pain of corseting.
'Yes, because breathing isn't important." Alice had sardonically commented at the mere age of fourteen. There was to be a gathering of Victorian families. Some sort of engagement party for someone Alice didn't know. Or care, really. Her mother had insisted on tightening Alice's corset herself, thus ensuring that it was actually going to stay on.
"Not as important as being a proper lady and finding a husband." Her mother retorted, casually, as though she actually believed that. Even at her young age, Alice didn't.
After traveling to, then being in, China for a year, Alice hadn't had anyone to tell her to dress properly. Most of her travel mates were upper-class, middle aged men, who besides the occasional wicked grin (which her chaperone, of sorts, Thomas, always corrected), couldn't care less about her. They had business to take care of; business most were not okay with including a woman in. And they made sure to make their thoughts on the matter clear. During any business meeting with Chinese officials, Alice was treated like a pest rather than an apprentice. Thomas, whom Lord Ascot had hired to lead the business venture, tried to include her as much as he could, but his business associates were usually offended or confused by having to address a woman so casually.
Both Chinese and Englishmen alike were uncomfortable with her about, though none of them had any issue with stealing any ideas Alice offered. They would simply stake their claim, as if it were their own, and nothing else would come of the matter. Alice had resisted the theft once or twice, but was taunted then ignored. She thought it best to just hold her head high. It was a man's world, and it probably wouldn't change.
'And to think, there exists a place where queens rule and I am champion! How very contrasting to this world. It is a much better one, I would say!' Alice would think to herself, to calm her insecurities.
On the return home, Alice was generally ignored, like the mangy ship cat that she'd befriended during her travels. The cat had even followed her off the ship by hiding in her suit case. Sneaky little beast. He reminded her so much of her late Dinah that she just had to take him home. His big blue eyes won her mother over almost instantly. Very sneaky little beast.
Just like Chessur, she thought with a warm grin.
After her second visit to Underland, Alice had indeed forgotten immediately upon returning. She had broken her promise to Hatter, which upset her immensely as she looked back. But then, she remembered, slowly at first, then abruptly. Little things here and there would spark something inside of her. At her failed engagement party of Hamish, Alice had recognized the similarity between the Chattaway sisters and Tweedledee and Tweedledum. Then, she'd done the Futterwacken, though she'd admittedly forgotten what it was at the time and could admit with no loss of pride that it had been a rather lacking rendition. But, it had shocked her audience enough, certainly. People still talked about it.
Then, just a week before her departure to China, Alice had visited a hat shop with her mother and sister. Though she was strangely excited at the idea of visiting a hat shop, Alice was then unimpressed by the hats her mother and sister deemed 'remarkable.' When they'd question her unenthusiastic attitude towards the hats, Alice's reply confused even her:
"Tarrant's are better. Much better." Margaret and Helen exchanged bewildered looks, then glanced to Alice, who could truly offer no explanation. Who was Tarrant? And why did the name send a shiver through her mind and a thud to her being? Thankfully, both her mother and sister walked away, perhaps a bit baffled by her strange comment, leaving Alice alone. She stood in the back of the shop, leaning against the wall, as thousands of images flashed before her. Then, she remembered everything. When it was time to leave, Alice hushed her raging emotions and followed them out, seemingly unaffected. When she got home, she wrote down everything, afraid of forgetting again.
As she wrote, three unexpected truths found her:
1. She felt more fondly of and more at home in Underland than her own world.
2. She would go back.
3. She would stay for good.
In addition to the unexpected ones, one other even more unexpected truth found her:
1. She fancied the hatter.
Though he was quite an odd man, as well as being quite a bit older, Alice found herself thinking of him more than any other aspect of Underland. She had never met anyone who could keep up with her mind nor anyone more in synch with her, not even her father. Being around him, talking to him, was effortless, like breathing. There was never anything she kept from saying in fear of sounding mad, for he was just (or maybe even more) mad. She wasn't sure when these feelings started, but she knew that she felt them now. Perhaps she more than fancied him…but she wouldn't be sure unless she saw him again. She would go back to Underland and attempt to win his heart.
How funny, Alice thought, smiling again, I finally fancy someone and he's a half-mad, too! My mother would be ever so upset. No one to quell my oddness. Instead, he would embrace and perhaps even enhance it! Oh, how very Alice of me. How very Muchy.
She tightened her corset lightly, knowing that her mother would check, but not willing to suffocate herself for a late gathering with her immediate family. She'd been back from China for almost a year (making that nearly two long years since she'd left Underland) she'd made sure to keep her muchness. Hatter, or Tarrant, as she bravely referred to him at times, would not be pleased if she did not come back Absolutely Alice. She would remain as obedient to these foolish rules as much as she could without completely losing herself. Then, she would leave this world. Of course, she would try to visit. She loved her mother, sister and niece and nephew, but she couldn't bare to lie to herself anymore. London was not her world. She never belonged in 'Londonland', as she called it. The strange world she visited as a child had staked itself into her heart, left a mark, and even deemed her worthy the be Champion of it. Underland was her world; her wonderland.
When she was finished with her undergarments, and this including the itchy white stockings, she walked to her wardrobe and scanned all of her dresses. She had mostly blues and purples, with the occasional white or red dress. Once again, she picked out a light blue dress (her favorite color, and a color she always associated with Underland). It came down just a few inches above her ankles, the bustle being of a small-medium size with ruffles in the shapes of loose-looking roses cascading down the back. The trim from the waist down was simple, with three layers of off-white lace. The waist was plain, except for the opalescent buttons down the back of it. The bust hung lower than she would have worn a few years ago, but high enough as not to showcase anything improper. The sleeves were loose and simple, hanging just off her shoulders with sheer, off-white lace.
Once she slipped the dress on, she studied herself in the mirror. She'd matured much during her travels, both mentally and physically. She'd transformed from a young naïve girl into a much muchier young woman. The curves that had alluded her for all her life finally blossomed, first on her hips, then waist, and lastly her bosoms. Though she was still thin and angular, she was more plump, as her mother had called it, than she had been before her trip. Her mother had attributed it to being around so many handsome foreign men, though personally, she thought that allowing her body to be corset-less had thus allowed it to mature. Besides, Alice had insisted she had nothing but platonic connections. With any of the men she'd encountered. There was only one man she thought of in that way, and he existed down miles long of a rabbit hole. Her face, as well had defined itself. She'd shed most of her baby fat and her features were enhanced by it. Even her eyebrows had darkened and defined along her brow, making her look less childlike. The men were all taking notice of her, even men who she knew as young boys in her childhood. But Alice would have nothing to do with unplanned engagement parties now, not after the fiasco two years ago that had nearly destroyed the already fragile 'friendship' Helen Kingsleigh and Lady Ascot had pieced together, for the sake of their children's assumed future marriage. Lady Ascot would still not look Alice directly in the eye, on the rare occasion that she actually addressed her directly. This didn't really bother Alice much. It amused her more than anything.
Alice slipped on a pair of silky, off-white pumps then approached her vanity. She attempted to put her unruly curly hair into a soft bun, but failed. That sort of work always took much too long for Alice's liking, and her sister would be here soon. She simply pull it back loosely with a clip, letting strands fall in wavy pontification around her face. She was lucky to have naturally wavy hair. It always appeared to have taken longer than it did. She smiled to herself, feeling suddenly very content with herself. Though she was not conceited, not by a long shot, she liked the way she looked. It had taken years of learning, but she was finally starting to like herself, for all her qualities, including her madness. And though she would much rather let her hair fall naturally and be corset and stocking-less (and dare she think it, bloomer-less) with a much simply outfit( or even, scandalously, pants!), she'd finally found a middle ground. And this seemed to please her mother immensely. As she looked in the vanity to perfect her hair, there was a slight knock on her door.
"Come in." She said, looking at her door through her mirror. Her mother walked in, dressed in her usual formal attire, and smiled at her daughter.
"Let me see you." Her mother requested. Alice stood up and walked to her mother. Helen first felt for a corset and gave a smile when she felt one. Then, she looked for the stockings and gave another smile. Her mother pushed her daughter away slightly, though holding her hands gently. She examined Alice with a soft motherly gaze.
"What is it?" Alice chuckled slightly.
"You've grown up to be quite the young woman. Beautiful and brave and unique. Not many girls can say the same."
"All bronze-corset no brain?" Alice joked. Her mother gave a suppressed smile, trying not to find as much humor in her daughters rather unladylike statement as she did.
"Something like that. You know, I was once more like you. More free and less constricted by Victorian living. When I met your father, we were quite the pair. Completely in sync with each other. Just remember, my dear, that although I am your mother, I was also once, and in my heart I always will be, your father's match." She smiled at her daughter, who smiled back gratefully. But then, Alice's face turned in slight as her brows furrowed together in inchmeal.
"Why are you telling me this? Is there something I don't know? Another surprise engagement party, maybe?" Alice teased, but was slightly serious. She didn't know if her sanity could bare another awkward situation like that. She could only have so much control over her madness, anyway.
"I've just sensed that something in you has changed. I've felt it since your engagement party two years ago and its only grown since. I think there's something calling you, love. I saw that look on your father before he started his business. I have felt that things will change soon. Though, perhaps I'm just mad." Her mother gave a slight laugh. Alice was frozen slightly, unsure of what to say.
I can't very well tell her that I'm leaving to go to a place that exists down a rabbit hole! She reasoned with herself.
"You're right, mama. Something is calling me." She admitted, not knowing what she would say if her mother pushed for an explanation. And of course, she did.
"And what, pray, is calling my little girl away from me?" Her mother removed a stray hair that was blocking Alice's eyes, and tucked it behind her ear.
"In all honesty, I'm not completely sure." Alice admitted, even to herself. She'd had an insatiable wanderlust since she was a child, but surely there was something deeper than just her curiosity that drove her to want to be in Underland. It was some kind of deep connection for a place, and a man, she hardly knew. But it was stronger than anything she'd even felt and she could no longer ignore it.
"Could it possibly be a man?" Helen dared, giving her daughter a sly, knowing grin.
How could she possibly know that?
"What makes you say that?" Alice asked, more meekly than normal.
"My dear, you may like your father in many ways, but you are also like me. Believe in or not, you got your tendency to daydream from me. Your father was more a doer than a dreamer," Helen thought back fondly of her late husband, then turned back to her statement and daughter, "I remember, when I met your father, I would stare hopelessly out of windows and just think about him mindlessly. I could get lost in my daydreams of him for hours."
"Really?" Alice grinned madly, happy about having something so odd in common with her usually overly proper mother.
"Oh, yes. And also, don't think I haven't forgotten about the hat shop. What was his name, Tarren?"
"Tarrant." Alice corrected.
"Tarrant." Helen smiled. Alice blushed at being caught. She couldn't deny it. It was written on her face, obviously even when she though she was safe in her own mind. Before her blush could dissolve, a loud knock came echoing from the front door.
"I'll go greet them. You tidy up your casual clothing. I don't want a mess in here." Helen walked out of the room. As Alice heard the light clicking of heels down the stairs, she whispered to herself.
"I'm not a child, mother." Alice gave a slight roll of her eyes, but stopped herself. Afterall, they'd just had a lovely conversation. One of the best they'd ever had. Alice moved to hang up her casual clothes, but stopped when her mother called to her.
"Alice, dear. I think you have a visitor!"
A visitor?
"A visitor?" She repeated out loud. Who could possibly be here to see her, especially at this late of night. Vaguely bemused , Alice exited her room, leaving the mess behind. She told herself she'd get it later, though she knew that was a lie.
She heard light talking as she walked down the hallway, one voice much more masculine than the other.
A man?
At this, Alice's stomach churned. What if a longing-to-be suitor had come to ask her hand? She'd heard of this happening, men appearing on lady's doorsteps in the middle of night to ask for their hands. Though it wasn't quite the middle of the night, it was still nighttime nonetheless. Some women fancied it as romantic, but Alice just found it odd, though she found romance odd in and of itself. Well, apart for the one exception.
Her heels clicked down the hallway, then stairs, and though she hesitated, she knew she could not run. It probably wasn't even a suitor. Perhaps it was just a business associate who had arrived late, or didn't know the proper etiquette about just showing up at someone's house. Nerves calmed, she reached the second set of stairs. Just as she was about to turn to face the top of the staircase, she stopped. She would be able to see the person clearly now at the door, unless her mother had invited them in to the living or dining area. She held her breath as she turned the corner.
There was no one there. Her mother had invited them in, whoever it was. She listened and could hear what sounded like polite conversation between muffled voice. She walked down the second set of stairs more quickly than before. She was now anxious to know who was having a conversation with her mother. When she reached the dinning room, she was met with the back of a familiar top hat, as well as bright orange hair. Her mother's eyes met hers as she gave a much-too-happy smile. When the man noticed that her mother was looking at someone behind him, he stiffened up. Then, he gave a loud sigh and stood, still not facing her. Finally, he turned. It was him. Her exception.