The Fugitive

Disclaimer: The Alice books and the 2010 film are not mine. This is only for fun and no money is being made.

Chapter 1: The Decision

The ball had not even started and she was already bored with it. Alice knew it was ungrateful of her. The occasion after all was intended to celebrate her return to England – rather belatedly as she had been back nearly a month – as well as her promotion to Lord Ascot's junior partner, an unheard of position for a woman. But she really would have preferred if they had not bothered

Alice looked round again at the rapidly filling ballroom of the Ascot mansion. Already several gentlemen were looking at her with interest and she groaned inwardly, wondering how many marriage proposals she would have to reject before the night was over. At twenty-three she might have hoped she was too old but she knew the substantial personal fortune she had accumulated on her travels, as well as the shares she owned in Ascot-Kingsleigh Trading, which was now one of the largest corporations in Europe, would more than compensate for that deficiency in the eyes of most suitors.

Alice tugged at the flowing skirts of her gown to smooth out any wrinkles, more out of nervousness than any real necessity. In nearly three years of travelling in the Orient she had worn mostly practical and comfortable clothing and now felt uneasy in such elaborate attire, a discomfort only increased by the tight corset and itchy stockings her mother had nagged her into wearing. Alice suppressed a growl of annoyance. It wasn't just her mother; that she could have coped with. But since her return to England even Lord Ascot had taken to chiding her about the way she dressed, telling her how important it was for the company to present an image of respectability and propriety. Alice had little choice but to comply with his wishes, although she strongly suspected her mother had put him up to it

She guessed it would be about thirty minutes before the dancing got under way and decided a walk outside would help collect her thoughts for what would surely be a trying evening. Alice had just reached the open French windows leading to the grounds of the Ascot Estate when her mother intercepted her.

"Where are you going, Alice?"

"Just outside, Mother." She smiled at the older woman. "I feel like walking around a little before the dancing starts."

"It's starting to get dark," Helen Kingsleigh looked at her anxiously. "I don't think you should go on your own. I'm sure one of the gentlemen here would…"

"That will not be necessary." Alice interrupted her mother gently but firmly. "In the last three years I've sailed halfway round the world, climbed mountains, hacked my way through jungles and fought off attacks by pirates, brigands and robbers. After all of that, I believe I can survive an evening stroll in the English countryside!"

Resolutely, she walked through the open windows, ignoring her mother's protests. Alice had intended no more than a brief stroll, but her feet seemed to have ideas of their own, leading her out of the grounds of the Ascot estate and into the surrounding woods.

The terrain was rougher here and the long skirts of her gown and the heels she wore made progress difficult. But Alice persevered, lifting up her skirts and picking her way carefully across the uneven ground.

After a few minutes she stopped, staring at a very familiar tree and the large rabbit hole beneath it.

The entrance to Underland!

She had not consciously intended to come here but now she stared at the hole with longing. It would be so easy she thought, to simply jump down and return to the mad and wonderful land of her childhood. She was not really needed here; Lord Ascot could easily manage the company without her and her family found her more of an embarrassment than anything else.

Alice thought of what she would gain by returning. It could be summed up in one word; freedom: the freedom to laugh and act as eccentrically as she pleased instead of being constrained by stultifying formality, the freedom to dress comfortably and not be compelled to wear corsets and stockings and tight dresses every day, the freedom to live her life as she pleased without the constant criticism of her family about her unwed status and unconventional ways.

And of course she had promised the Mad Hatter she would return.

Alice sighed, not for the first time trying to make sense of her feelings about Tarrant Hightop. She remembered all her experiences in three years of travelling. There had been men during that time, not many and she had been careful and discreet, but she was a healthy young woman with all the desires that entailed and saw no reason to deny her body its needs because of the hypocritical prudishness of the society she had been raised in, a society that had never really accepted her. Yet she realised now not one of those encounters had stirred even a fraction of the longing she felt in her heart at the thought of Underland's colourful madman.

She was in love with the Hatter. Alice almost laughed out loud at her foolishness in not having realised it until now. But did he feel the same way? She couldn't be sure, but remembering his look of desolation as she swallowed the Jabberwocky blood Alice was certain he felt something for her that went far beyond mere friendship. How could she reject that, reject love, for the duty and drudgery and propriety that was the only life she could hope for in England?

Alice took a step closer to the Rabbit Hole, ready to throw herself down without further thought. But then something else occurred to her. What of all the girls who were in the same position as her before that second trip?

It was a thought that had come to her increasingly over the last few months. Alice saw quite clearly just how lucky she had been that day at the engagement party. If she had not seen The White Rabbit and followed him she probably would have accepted Hamish. She had no other prospects after all and could not have remained dependent on her mother indefinitely. It was only her adventures in Underland, and especially her slaying of the Jabberwocky that gave her the muchness to reject Hamish and find her own path in life. But there must be hundreds, maybe thousands of girls who faced the same choice she had; what of them?

Well she couldn't arrange a trip to Underland for all of them or give them the chance to slay a ferocious monster, but what she could give them was an example. She could demonstrate it was possible for a woman to have a successful and satisfying life that did not involve marriage and motherhood. She could give them hope that a woman could aspire to more in life than domestic drudgery. And she could prove to the world just how wrong it was to underestimate women's abilities. Alice was convinced such prejudices could not be overcome by argument, but only by women having the courage to defy convention and prove how capable they could be.

And then Alice realised what the consequences would be if she followed her heart and returned to Underland. Her unconventional life had already made her notorious among polite society and her sudden disappearance would be a sensation and the occasion for endless gossip and speculation. Most would doubtless assume she had cracked under the strain of her work, that her supposedly inferior feminine brain could not take the pressure of a man's job, that she had gone completely mad and run off or even killed herself. Instead of being an example to other young women she would become a warning. Whenever a girl showed signs of unconventional thought or behaviour the story of 'The Mad Kingsleigh Girl' and her supposedly unhappy fate would be invoked like a grim spectre to terrify her into submission. No, she most certainly could not allow that.

"I'm sorry, Tarrant!" Alice thought miserably. "But I have to break my promise. My heart belongs with you in Underland, but my duty is here in my own world and I must put that first. I hope you can forgive me, but even if you can't I'll always love you, no matter what."

And with that Alice turned her back on her heart's desire and slowly began to walk back towards ordinary life.