Chapter Text
Alice held her dance card close to her chest, her fingers twitching slightly.
Two hours had already drifted by, and still her dance card was blank. Her mother would not be pleased if this news came back to her.
But, looking at the gaggle of girls frolicking overhead, she could not help the short sigh that escaped her lips. There was nothing she could do to compete against the daughters of aristocrats and esteemed gentry at this ball. She hadn’t even been presented to the queen, and was merely invited to the social season through the sponsorship of her aunt-in-law. Not even through blood.
It was true that she had some distant nobility somewhere in her lineage, but her father was the youngest of six children and became a barrister. A respected profession, but not even in the same sphere as landed gentry. They were middle-class by these people’s standards.
She was but a stain in this expensive white silk meant for a debutante.
“How unlucky.”
Alice startled upon a faint voice to her right, and she almost opened her mouth in indignation when she realized that the young man had been staring ahead, muttering to himself as he adjusted his stiff dress collar.
Their eyes met briefly, and Alice looked away in a panic. It was only a second, and numerous people passed in between them—surely, he did not catch her? But she had caught the color of his eyes. They were the shade of a forest at sunrise, bright green and astonishingly so.
“You.” The young man called, after a small pause.
Alice did not respond. Maybe he was talking with someone else.
“The young miss.”
She stiffened, but did not move. There were many young misses fluttering about this place.
Out of the corner of her eye, she detected a glimpse of movement, and Alice sent a short prayer to the heavens that the young man would walk past her, when she felt his shadow looming close.
She peered up at the man, and now that he could not be avoided, reluctantly greeted him with a curtsy. She wasn’t sure what to do in a situation so out of her normal boundaries.
“My apologies sir, I did not mean to look so brazenly—”
“What is your name?” He said.
Alice hesitated, momentarily put off by his extreme lack of manners. Should she give her name out to this incredibly discourteous man?
“Well?” He pressed, his voice nonetheless assertive enough to make her conviction waiver.
“A-Alice,” She stammered, blinking. “My name is Alice Lidell.”
“Alice.” The man pursed his lips, as if he were tasting the sound of her name. The expression that formed on his face was not quite satisfied but also not quite dissatisfied. It sat in the middle of the two, as if not able to make up its opinion yet.
He regarded her with such familiarity, though, that it struck her as odd.
“… I don’t believe we’ve met before?” Alice ventured.
“We have,” The man replied airily. “But perhaps it was rather unbelievable, so I don’t fault you.”
Alice did not know what to say to that, so she said nothing.
“Your dance card.” The young man prompted suddenly.
“Yes?” Alice floundered, still not quite sure what he wanted from her. He lifted his hand, waiting, and her cheeks flushed.
“Oh! Yes, here.” She handed him her dance card and pencil, and he arched a brow.
“Am I your first dance partner?” He remarked, more in wonder than in arrogance, but it made heat creep up the back of her neck.
He gave her back her card and she accepted it, not quite knowing whether she wanted to dance with him or not, even if he was the first one to ask her.
She startled when she looked at him, for he had suddenly leaned in perilously close to her, too close for what was considered proper.
“Come find me if you remember.” The young man said in a low voice, inclining his head. Alice could not help but gaze at him strangely, chasing the sight of him even when he had pulled away and then disappeared into the crowd of people.
‘Remember what?’ She glanced down at the card clutched between her hands, only he did not give her his name, but a riddle instead.
What kind of cat can grin?
.
.
.
Despite his rather haphazard behavior, the prospect of being asked to dance through a riddle delighted her, taking her back to her younger days as a child.
Those days were much easier then, when she did not have to worry about anything besides prancing around near the bank with her sister, making daisy-chains, having the privilege to only fill her mind with ephemeral curiosities that grabbed and entertained her. Perhaps she had been a bit spoiled then, and it was why she had so much trouble fitting into society now. Somewhere in between, the bank had dried up, the daisy-chains had wilted, and they had packed her up and sent her to a boarding school for proper young ladies to rid her brain of the useless litter she once considered treasures.
When had she stopped being a child to become a young lady? Alice did not remember being asked or there being a threshold for her to cross. Simply, they had grabbed her by the hand, pulling her away from the warm bed of childhood to thrust her into the cold, cruel world of adults. The real world.
Who had decided that?
Alice had to mull over the answer to the riddle for a while, dejectedly considering that perhaps her faculties were unsuited for these kinds of questions, but eventually, it came to her. She gambled to find the man, locating him in the midst of a conversation with some other distinguished looking men. Nothing about his appearance or the way he carried himself suggested that he would ever fancy nonsensical trivialities, but she approached him nonetheless.
He turned then, as if sensing her, catching her eye.
“I’ve heard, once, that a Cheshire Cat always grins.” Alice said as he drew closer, and the smile which unfurled from his lips was so wide and unexpected, that she almost took a step back in surprise.
His canine teeth were a bit long, for a man.
“So you do remember, Alice.” The young man purred, salivating her name as if it was a sweet that melted on his tongue. The intimate way in which he said it unnerved her, but she did not have the chance to say anything back while stuck in her stupor.
He offered his palm then, like a flower blooming. Not wanting to be disgracious, Alice lifted her gloved hand in return, and he placed it on the crook of his elbow, escorting her to the middle of the dance circle.
The sudden swell of the violin strings eventually snapped her from her reverie as the notes of the clarinets floated to the center of the floor, commencing the start of the dance. They turned towards each other, and Alice finally gained enough of her bearings to curtsy as the man in front of her dipped low in a bow and took her hand again, leading them in a promenade.
“I forgot to inquire after your name in my haste.” Alice said, while the steps were still simple. “May I have your name, sir?”
“Chester Posey,” sighed the man as if in resignation, which was a curious thing to her, “From Cheshire.”
“Chester from Cheshire,” Alice could not help but let out a small giggle. Instantly, she reddened. “My apologies, I did not mean to—”
“It’s alright.” The man said. “You may laugh. I thought it would amuse you, and that is why I picked it.”
“By that—you mean that is why you asked me the riddle?” Alice said.
The man smiled. It was less shocking this time. No teeth, thankfully. “Amongst other things.”
The trumpets blared then. Alice turned to him with a flourish and he placed a light hand on her back. The cadence of the music was picking up now, the steps becoming more complicated. He led her into a twirl as the instruments rose to a crescendo, and they spun around, faster and faster, until the faces of those around them became a blur.
The music slowed as the bows of the violins descended, the light, airy notes of the flutes and the clarinets gliding across the ballroom. Alice swallowed a breath, taking a chance to steady her vision, though her cheeks flushed naturally from the exercise.
“My mother should be glad that I remembered all the steps,” She declared, and the man humored her with another smile, taking a breath himself.
“It is tiresome, isn’t it?” The tone of his voice was almost bitter. Another curious thing.
Alice peered at him closely, now that she had an opportunity to do so. Under the light of the chandeliers, his hair shone prettily like a new penny. She could even consider him handsome, perhaps, with his slanted green eyes like a feline, if only he did not flash his smile so sharply. It was a bit off-putting for a gentleman to grin like so.
“It is usually considered impolite to stare.” The young man said then, but when she looked at him, she found that he had been gazing back at her as well.
Alice blushed, but she hazarded a quip, “Then you are also guilty, Mr. Chester from Cheshire.”
“I did not say I was polite.”
Soon, the dance ended, and he dipped low once again to give a final bow.
“Save me another space on your dance card for the next ball.”
“Is that a request or a demand?”
“Take it how you will.” The corner of his lips jutted upwards. “Until then.”
“Until then.” Alice echoed, slowly bending into a curtsy.
.
.
.
The ball ended two hours past midnight, but Alice did not see the young man again.
Now free to be lost in her thoughts, she could not help but feel strange the entire rest of the night. It was a worrying sensation, as if there was this fretful tugging in a corner of her mind, wanting to be acknowledged.
At least her aunt-in-law had looked pleased enough not to nag her once they climbed into their carriage, though she had only gotten one dance partner through the entirety of the ball.
“He is the son of a baron, from Cheshire.” Her aunt-in-law had told her when they settled into their seats. She was a thin but elegant woman, with arched eyebrows and a naturally stern disposition, but she meant well for her family—even for her niece-in-law, who was of middle class background. “The county is known to be affluent, though it is still mostly rural.”
The son of a baron. How odd. Alice did not think he appeared to be particularly well-bred, with the way he spoke so familiarly with her despite them having just met.
“Although he is merely the second son, I heard.” Her aunt spoke up again. “It would have been better if you had danced with the first. Still, you can certainly do worse.”
‘Well, he did say we’ve met before.’ Alice thought in passing. Though, she should think she’d remember someone as peculiar as him.
“Alice, are you listening to me?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Alice said, straightening up in her seat a little upon the call of her name. She sensed the slight impatience in her aunt’s tone, and took care to pay attention now.
“You must try to dance with more fellows at the next ball.” Her aunt advised. “Now that the Cheshire boy has danced with you and found you adequate, it will surely draw more opportunities.”
Alice nodded politely, though she could not help but repeat the adjective in her head.
‘Adequate.’ She knew that her aunt did not mean it unkindly, it was just in the practical way she viewed things. That was what Alice was now, what she had grown up to be, despite the fanciful notions she had as a child of being special. But then, did not all children think like that?
Perhaps, if they had only asked her to grow up, she would have been better prepared. She would have had more time to stow away all of her daydreams and imagined adventures into a box, and tucked it deep inside the back of her subconscious, better locked and kept out of reach.
For sometimes, when she slept in the dark night, they would still rattle around.