Alice tipped the vial into her mouth, cringing at the bitter slide of the Jabberwocky's blood. To her disgust, she could feel its heat as it moved down her throat, pooling in the low pit of her stomach. That animal fury, coupled with a cruel intelligence...Alice shuddered. She could taste every soul claimed by that demon.
She blinked, fighting the sting of tears in her eyes and the rising disgust in her throat. It was awful. Not the blood, but the pain of this, the long goodbye.
Hatter stood close at her side, Alice's free hand cradled within both of his own. This creature of Underland, this man had pleaded with her to stay, promising her everything in his power to give for her happiness. But Alice had come to realize that her happiness was not something she could attain from the sacrafice of another.
The Hatter had done so much to change Alice in the deepest of ways…did he have any idea of what he had done? She was more of a woman thanks to him.
With the gentle glide of his fingertips, he had awoken her first taste of sensual desire. With trusting words, he had given her the measure of what a true friend could be to another. With a brush of his lips, he had cemented himself in her history, he would forever be the man who had given Alice her first kiss.
A strange tingle crawled down her spine.
Alice let the vial slip from her fingers once she felt it.
"Hatter."
He blinked at the sound of her voice, pulling himself from whatever reverie he'd called on to take refuge from his pain at her leaving. Eyes of bright jade found focus on her face. Hatter took her other hand once he recognized the fear in her dimming expression.
"Alice? What's wrong?"
But it was clear, even to one such as him. The hands he held in his were naught but air now. His Alice was vanishing, fading like a wraith in the moonlit garden. She was going away, too fast for him to say all the rest in his heart.
"I can feel it…"
Hatter took a step forward, intent to hold on to her, but in the space between seconds, Alice was gone.
He blinked, confused. His eyes searched the garden, looking for her. Where's she gone? She can't be...
But she was. Hatter felt it in his bones. He was alone in the garden, alone in Underland once again.
Alice blinked once. Twice. Three times against the bright, buttery sunlight. She moved to sit up, groaning slightly as her temples throbbed from the movement. She looked about, startled to find herself surrounded by thick roots and dirt.
I'm...I'm in a hole, how did I...?
The girl surged forward, climbing out of the hole that, she realized as she stood, had been at the base of a tree.
Thankfully, the pain in her head was fading with every moment that passed.
Alice pinched the bridge of her nose and rubbed her head. She was in a garden again, though this one was without moonlight and magic. The sunlight of a day in mid-June shone down on her. The air was different here.
England. London. The Ascots. My engagement! How long have I been away…?
Alice stood, surprised to find herself wearing her simple blue dress from all those days ago. But her dress wasn't stretched out or torn. Save for a few streaks of dried mud on the hem, her dress was intact.
How can my dress be…? Mother, Margaret, where are they?
She felt off, confused and unbalanced, but eager to find her family. To see them again, after so long...
Alice looked about and tried to regain her bearings. It was difficult, but Alice tried to remember. The rabbit in the waistcoat, McTwisp. She had chased him down a footpath and up the hill to the tree with the hole.
It had been the rabbit who had lead her away from the new life awaiting her at the garden party.
But how long have I been gone? Has it been minutes or weeks?
No more hesitation. Alice moved down the hill, retracing her steps back to the great country home of the Ascots.
Hamish stood, his feet rooted to the spot before the gazebo. The whole of the party was focused on her, on Alice Kingsleigh, as she lifted the skirt of her dress and gave an odd jig with a small, triumphant smile on her face.
This girl!
He had never felt this way before, genuinely dressed down and humbled by a young woman.
Alice's words had been in no way cruel or dismissive towards his noble intentions. He'd seen in her eyes that she was sincerely sorry, but no marriage would take place between them.
He watched as the crowd parted before Alice and his father as they headed into the estate, presumably to discuss some matter of business. What on earth would Alice have to say about trade?
There was a hollow, sick feeling spreading throughout his body. The pain of rejection, topped with the sting of a public humiliation.
Hamish was well aware of his own faults; his fastidious manners, his freckled skin, his delicate stomach and his weakness when compared side by side with the other young men of London society. Weakness, yes. His riding and hunting skills were lacking, as was his talent in swordplay and boxing.
But though he had not known Alice for very long, he had held some hopes for their married life. Whatever his faults, Hamish had made the promise to himself that he would endeavor to be a good husband to Alice. He admitted that she frustrated him sometimes, with her wandering mind, but in time he was sure that he might become accustomed to her quirks. He thought he and Alice could have been very happy together, but with a few carefully chosen words, Alice had made it clear that she would not have him.
Hamish blinked and realized that there were several pairs of eyes trained on him, with expressions ranging from sympathetic to veiled mocking. He sighed to himself and moved away from the crowd, heading back to the house. He loosened his collar as he moved, feeling sweat break out on his forehead. Frustration, humiliation, disappointment.
He'd wanted Alice for his wife, but not like this, subjecting her to an engagement party without even a day's notice. It had all been his mother's doing. She'd been so excited when he'd confided that he fancied Alice after dancing with her at a gathering the year before. From there, things had somehow slipped from his control. His parents and Alice's mother had come to an understanding before he had even had the chance to imagine how he would propose.
Hamish let himself into the house and moved through the large kitchen, ignoring the odd looks of his servants. He paid them no mind as he found the brandy bottle and poured himself a generous measure.
It shouldn't have been like this- I was angry with mother and took out my vexation on Alice. I pushed her away. This party, the crowd watching us…it was too much for her. No wonder she ran!
Hamish took his drink in a quick gulp and shook his head. No, I would have had this go differently. Courted her. Asked her when we were alone, in a park or after taking her to dinner on her next birthday. Not like this.
He set down his glass and moved out of the kitchen, intent to find her. Alice deserved an apology for this spectacle, and for his part in it. He felt angry and determined. He'd allowed himself to be cowed for the last time and he would be sure to make it clear to anyone who thought to lead him away from his chosen path. He wouldn't let anything like this happen again.
Hamish speared his fingers through his hair. He knew little of women from his own experience, but he had heard that they could be flighty, caught up in the romance of novels and operas. Women tried to bring such notions into their true lives, even expecting it of men.
Some grand, romantic gesture.
Would that make Alice happy? Would it be enough to earn him a second chance?
Hamish had to wonder. And he had to make things right.