Chapter Five #2
An hour or two went by as she walked through the gardens and around the lake at the very bottom of the sprawling meadows, stopping at one point to catch her breath and sit in the sun.
Selina loved being out in the sunshine. Being stuck indoors was never welcome on a day such as this, and even on dull days she enjoyed the fresh air—she couldn’t bear to stay inside: it reminded her too much of sad memories.
Of being shoved by cold hands into a darkened room, crying until there was no longer any light beneath the door, and feeling loneliness… unbearable loneliness.
If Anne never forgave her and she ended up back in Great Yarmouth with no friends to speak of, how would she entertain herself?
More knitting? She wasn’t much of a reader.
She was so terribly slow that it took her ages to finish a page or make any sense of the words.
But she loved it when Aunt Mary read to her, and she often learnt songs by ear rather than by song sheets because she also struggled with reading music.
A previous governess had once said she was only good for dancing and silliness. Aunt Mary had sacked her on the spot, but Selina was beginning to think her right. How would she live?
Selina sighed, the melancholy quickly returning as she thought about her recent failings. If Lady Anne decided to cut all ties with her, she would be back down to Great Yarmouth quicker than the crack of a whip.
She loved her father and Aunt Mary, but their family home was always so dull and cold.
Haunted by the memories of lost loved ones.
No wonder her aunt loved her books and her father loved his ships: neither of them wanted to be there, and both sought an escape of sorts, distractions from their grief and loneliness.
She didn’t want to go back; she felt suffocated there.
But without being Anne’s companion, she would never find a gentleman husband in London.
Her dreams for the future were crumbling before her eyes.
She flopped onto her back to stare up at the cloudless sky. Great Yarmouth was nothing compared to London, and her society would be limited to the local gentry. Boring days followed by lonely nights stretched out in front of her, and her insides twisted painfully.
‘You’re being silly,’ she told herself firmly.
There was no need to think the worst. Even if Anne never forgave her, she would simply have to beg Aunt Mary to come live with her in London.
At least until she found a husband. Perhaps not a young lord or wealthy man like Mr Chadwick, but she would find someone eventually.
At least then she wouldn’t have to pander to the whims of a spoilt young lady, who seemed less like a true friend each day.
Now that she thought on it, Anne had always enjoyed her company because of her wicked devil-may-care attitude.
How many times had she been entertained by her wit and tomfoolery?
It was bound to backfire on them one day, and Charlotte was right: Anne didn’t know for certain that the prince would have chosen her!
Selina groaned.
But was Anne wrong to blame her for ruining what little chance she did have? No.
After all, Anne was the most likely match for Prince Magnus, after Charlotte—ah, dear sweet Charlotte.
She doubted His Serene Highness would forgive her misplacing his principality in the southern hemisphere.
However, he’d not spoken to Anne after the incident in the garden, so that didn’t bode well.
There was nothing to be done.
The prince would find some other high society lady, maybe even Lady Susan—who despite her lazy eye had always seemed lovely to Selina. But, of course, Anne would always blame her for spoiling her chance at becoming a princess.
Jumping to her feet Selina allowed herself the satisfaction of cursing like a sailor—her father’s influence—and stomped back towards the grand house that shone like a pearl in the gorgeous spring day.
‘All parties come to an end,’ she said miserably to herself as she crested the embankment and strode up the hill.
The walk back up to the house was considerably harder than the stroll down.
She huffed and puffed, letting her shawl drag through the meadow as she pushed herself up over the hills.
In the end, she decided against walking directly to the house, realising quickly how difficult it would be.
If she veered to the left, there was a small woodland just before the start of the gardens.
The climb would still be steep, but at least she’d be in the shade, and the change of scenery would distract her from the effort.
The spring flowers were blooming, and a white butterfly fluttered across her path.
But despite the pleasant scene, Selina was perspiring profusely by the time she reached the woodland.
She even regretted bringing her shawl out with her as it was a dead weight to carry.
There was a little folly up ahead, on the edge of the wood, presumably the one that Mr Chadwick had suggested for their rendezvous. Perversely, she wanted to see it—although, not with Mr Chadwick, of course!
It was a small columned temple with a domed roof.
No doubt a place for overambitious walkers like herself to find some respite from the hike.
The small building was raised on a stone base, with four steps leading to it, and around the outside were lots of blooming irises, their violet feathery heads dancing in the breeze.
As she approached, she realised the temple was already occupied by someone. There was even a horse tied up to a nearby tree, munching on the grass. Thankfully not Mr Chadwick, but someone equally mortifying.
The man facing away from her was looking towards the house which was barely visible through the woodland.
She stopped, her breath catching in her throat as she debated what to do.
He had impossibly broad shoulders and narrow hips that could belong to none other than His Serene Highness, Prince Magnus.
He was wearing a white shirt, and no coat—oddly enough—and tight buckskins that looked as if he’d been poured into them and brown riding boots.
She noticed his coat lay in a crumpled heap a few feet away as if he’d thrown it on the stone floor, in a fit of pique.
A strange madness overcame her as she realised this could be her one and only chance to make things right with Anne, and if Selina was anything, she was always brave.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained!