Chapter Five
A wave of nausea hit Selina hard, cold dread gripping her by the throat and dragging her down beneath a hot wave.
‘Do you think he heard me?’ she whispered, already knowing the answer from the horrified expressions around her.
But a small part of her hoped for some kind of holy intervention—ideally, the princes both being struck by a sudden and profound bout of deafness.
Blast it! Why was she always so loud?
Anne was the first to recover, but she offered no words of comfort.
Her eyes bulged as she shrieked at her, feathers flying from her headdress.
‘Of course he heard you! Selina, you absolute ninny!’ Anne suddenly paled and sank back against the wooden bench as another far more disturbing thought appeared to assail her.
‘Oh heavens! He would have heard me too!’
‘Where did they even come from? They seemed to pop up from nowhere!’ exclaimed Charlotte, looking about her as if she were afraid the prince regent would fly out of the trees next.
Selina’s stomach had dropped all the way to her stained slippers, and the stupid organ was still plummeting: soon it might even reach the Antarctic—the one nowhere near Thrudheim.
Charlotte seemed to have realised where they had come from because she said, ‘Oh, I suppose they were taking a walk around the coppice. Shame we didn’t spot them before sitting down.’
‘Selina was too busy talking, as usual, or we might have noticed,’ snapped Anne, angrily rising from her seat and swatting her on the shoulder with her fan.
Selina was so shocked by her friend’s anger that it took her a moment to even register the slap.
She felt like a pet that had been shoved off their owner’s lap.
How many humiliating shocks would she suffer in one night? First she’d dropped her cup in front of the prince. Then Mr Chadwick—sweet, kind Mr Chadwick—had turned into a letch. And now this…
But Anne wasn’t done scolding her, and her voice had reached a shrill scream. ‘Damn you, Selina! Damn you! You have cost me a prince! You and your runaway, foolish, common, stupid tongue have cost me my entire future!’
Selina had never seen her like this before, and it was like watching a play. Real, but somehow also unreal. ‘I’m so sorry!’ she answered weakly, unsure of how to make it right.
Charlotte shuffled a little closer to Selina and said in a considerably gentler tone, ‘Oh, Anne, you can’t possibly blame Selina. We all laughed at her jest, including you, and you did tell him the colours of the rainbow in French—’
‘Shut up!’ Anne hissed. ‘Lord, I am surrounded by buffoons!’
Charlotte straightened a little at the insult, for once appearing as a duke’s daughter should.
‘Well, that’s not very nice! I don’t know why you are getting so worked up.
It’s embarrassing, to be sure. But you’re acting as if you were betrothed to the prince of Thrudheim!
Who’s to say he was considering you, anyway? ’
This did not appease Anne, and she turned on Charlotte like a viper. ‘Of course he was considering me! Who else? Lady Susan with her lazy eye? Lady Beatrice with her stutter? You? With your utter stu—’
Selina couldn’t bear it: Anne was being absolutely horrible, and in her anger, she was about to say something unforgivable— to their sweetest, closest friend. ‘Please don’t scold Charlotte! It was all my fault. I’m so sorry! Tell me what I can do to make it right.’
Anne glared down at her with open hatred. ‘I will never forgive you! Never!’ She turned on her heel and flounced away, her fan snapping open to furiously waft at her pink cheeks as she walked.
‘Goodness!’ declared Charlotte flapping her own fan with a flick of her wrist. ‘I do adore her, but she can be terribly arrogant at times. Why would Prince Magnus think so highly of her for reciting the colours of the rainbow? Are the French colours any better than the English ones?’
Selina didn’t answer. An icy chill had swept through her, as if a door had blown open and snuffed out every candle in her body. Anne was her best friend, and now she hated her.
She would be all alone…again.
* * *
The next day Selina was determined to make amends. Anne had ignored her for the rest of the evening, and without her friendship Selina realised how fragile her other relationships were. Especially at a Society house party such as this.
Charlotte kept her company for a time, but after a couple of hours of being deliberately ignored by Anne, Selina had to admit defeat and went to bed.
Charlotte was lovely, but Selina doubted she could rely on their friendship continuing without Anne. They all moved in the same high society circles, while Selina was Anne’s friend first—her companion.
Would that same circle continue to welcome her if Anne were no longer by her side?
If the earl no longer kept her as an entertaining house guest during the Season?
She wasn’t sure if they would, and although Charlotte was kind, she was also forgetful…
Eventually, Anne’s cruel words would be forgotten, and Selina doubted Charlotte would trouble herself with wondering what had happened to Lady Anne’s companion, not when her own place in Society was so secure.
Selina had gone to bed miserable and prayed that Anne would eventually forgive her by the end of the house party. The princes had also retired early last night, and Selina had heard through the whispering crowd that it was due to tiredness.
This only confirmed to Selina that she had indeed offended royalty and would probably be shot on sight if she ever tried to enter Thrudheim.
Another more unsettling thought hit her like a cannon.
What if her father were court-martialled for his daughter’s behaviour?
He really would never forgive her this time.
Although, Prince Magnus would have to admit that he’d heard someone making fun of him.
Could she pretend she was talking about someone else? She doubted it.
After a restless sleep, she dressed in a simple white muslin dress, its bust low as always but practically demure compared to last night, and besides she always wore it with one of her knitted shawls.
She tried knocking on Anne’s door, but the apologetic maid refused her entry.
She felt like a beggar pleading for a scrap of stale bread.
‘Sorry to say, Miss, but Lady Anne doesn’t wish to speak to you just yet.’
There was a bad-tempered shout from behind the door. ‘Never! I never want to speak to her again, Milly! You tell her to go away!’
Milly hurried out into the corridor, carefully closing the door behind her. ‘Don’t fret, Miss. I’m sure the young lady will come around soon… After all, what would she do without you?’
Selina smiled weakly: it wasn’t true—Selina needed Anne far more than Anne needed her.
Their friendship was the only reason Lady Anne’s parents approved of her presence, especially as a house guest. Selina was the ideal chaperone and companion.
She wasn’t paid, of course, but she was five years older than Lady Anne, and at times like this it showed.
She handed Milly her letter. ‘When she’s feeling calmer, please give Lady Anne this letter. It explains how deeply sorry I am, and how I will do my utmost to make things right.’
Milly took the letter and scurried back inside. A moment later she thought she heard something being thrown against the door—a slipper, possibly, by the sound of the slap.
Selina sighed and decided the best course of action would be to give her friend some time to consider her apology. Anne could be petulant and spoilt, but maybe Milly was right and she would forgive her eventually?
Be optimistic! she told herself firmly.
She went downstairs just before eleven o’clock, which was far earlier than the other guests. Not unusual considering most of the aristocracy didn’t rise until early afternoon on a normal day, let alone after a ball.
As she descended the grand staircase, the housekeeper happened to be passing by. ‘Good morning, Miss. May I help you?’
Selina forced a bright smile. It wasn’t the rest of the world’s fault that she was persona non grata. ‘I was just wondering if I could have something for breakfast and then go for a walk. I wouldn’t want to trouble you. But perhaps there’s some leftover cakes from last night?’
The housekeeper frowned. ‘We can do better than that, Miss. His Serene Highness was up early too, according to the butler. But you might like to wait awhile before going on your walk. His Grace is organising a tour of the house and grounds at three o’clock.’
‘Oh, thank you. I’ll consider it over breakfast, but I do tend to like a brisk walk after eating,’ she said cheerfully, not having the heart to inform the housekeeper that she probably wouldn’t be welcome on the walk if Anne were still in a foul mood with her.
The servants were almost done clearing up and setting the house to rights, but a small yet lavish buffet had been laid out—she had the prince to thank for that, but she couldn’t bring herself to be grateful.
Although, the freshly cooked eggs were a welcome addition to the usual cakes and sweet breads.
After eating, she tugged on her bonnet and headed outside.
She could probably waste at least a couple of hours doing that, and then Charlotte might be awake and she could spend some time with her.
Gracious! The next two days were going to be miserable if Anne didn’t forgive her, and what would happen if Anne never forgave her?
Would she be sent back to Great Yarmouth?
No more London, no more hope for a brighter future? She shivered at the thought.
The Duke of Beckton’s grounds were extensive, so a very long walk would help clear her head and let her focus on how on earth she was going to make it up to Anne.
She knew she’d boil if she wore a spencer, so she draped her knitted shawl around her shoulders and trudged outside.