Chapter Ten
Selina had spent a week in her Mayfair apartment before anyone came to call on her. Her father and aunt had been informed of the prince’s plans, so she supposed there was no reason for them to rush to her. But she had still hated every minute of it.
Not because of the accommodations. The rooms Prince Magnus had rented for her were beautifully furnished, elegant and spacious.
Just off fashionable Grosvenor Square, the townhouse was everything she could have wanted—if Selina hadn’t been living in social exile, that was.
She might as well have been in Inverness for the number of visitors she received.
Worst of all, her miserable confinement was self-inflicted.
She dared not go out in case she bumped into someone she knew; she couldn’t face any more scornful looks, especially after seeing Anne’s that fateful afternoon.
Besides, the weather had cooled, and regular spring showers had chilled the air.
So she moped around her stylish rooms and sent out for anything she needed, keeping Louisa firmly with her at all times to prevent her old fears of solitude from overwhelming her.
Selina had taken to knitting on the window ledge of her parlour, watching the bustle of the street below. Today, her first and only caller arrived in a hackney.
Craning her neck, she sighed with relief when she saw Aunt Mary step out of the carriage, pay the driver and march to the door with her usual forthright manner.
As always, her salt-and-pepper hair was completely covered.
Her aunt never liked to bother with her hair and found curling irons a chore.
But she liked colour and a military flair in her fashion, which she sported today in a turquoise-and-green fringed spencer and a jaunty shako hat topped with peacock feathers.
A moment later Aunt Mary entered Selina’s parlour in a flurry of greetings and horrified sympathy. But what had she expected after the gossip columns had all but branded her a Jezebel?
‘Oh, my dear! We came as soon as we could!’ cried her aunt with a pained expression as she clutched Selina to her chest and patted her head. ‘I always knew that Lady Anne would lead you astray. You cared far too much about pleasing her, and now you have found yourself in a fine mess!’
‘It was my fault, not Lady Anne’s,’ Selina said, pulling herself away long enough to glance behind her aunt at the door. The footman shut it behind him, indicating that no one else was coming, which Selina had already guessed but wanted to be sure. ‘Did Father not join you?’
‘Your father is meeting with His Serene Highness now.’ Mary gave her a tight smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes before sitting down in the nearest armchair with a heavy sigh.
‘Oh, well… This is rather pleasant, as accommodations go,’ she said cheerfully as she took in the elegant parlour.
‘The inn your father booked isn’t half as nice as this. ’
‘Why don’t you stay here, with me? There’s plenty of room.’ Too much room if she were honest. It had begun to feel as if she were rattling around an empty jar. Listening to nothing but the echo of her own footsteps and heavy sighs.
‘Oh, your father doesn’t want to trouble His Serene Highness,’ she replied with a dismissive wave.
‘Besides, we’ll be returning straight home after the wedding.
’ Her aunt’s eyes widened as she saw Selina’s face fall, and she grabbed her hand quickly to give it an affectionate squeeze.
‘Oh, my dear, no tears, please! I couldn’t bear it!
Tell me the truth of what actually happened.
I swear to listen faithfully and not interrupt or scold you.
After all, what is done is done, and at least the prince is honourable. ’
Selina sighed. Her Aunt Mary was well-meaning, but she often made excuses for her father’s insensitivity and always did as he said, even when it meant choosing him over Selina—whom she adored.
Perhaps it was because the admiral protected and supported Aunt Mary financially.
She probably felt as if she had no right to bite the hand that fed her.
However, it didn’t explain his not wanting to see her now.
Was he ashamed of her? Had he judged her as quickly as the journalists who had never met her?
‘Nothing happened. I tripped and fell. Unfortunately, because of the accident, the prince and I were found in a compromising position. But honestly, nothing happened.’
She squirmed as the memory of her clumsiness flashed through her mind, followed swiftly by that breathless moment when all of the world seemed to fall away.
That moment was untouched and pure in her mind, so far removed from the rest of her miserable interactions with Magnus, like a ship in a bottle.
They’d embraced like lovers—at least that’s how she’d felt, and she’d been convinced, if only for the briefest of seconds, that he was going to kiss her… which was ludicrous.
‘Found?’ Aunt Mary’s brow creased into one of her scolding expressions. ‘How were you found together?’
‘We were in a folly on the Duke of Beckton’s estate. I was taking a rest from a walk. We happened upon each other by chance.’
‘Folly by name, folly by nature! What on earth were you doing traipsing around a country estate on your own? Where was Louisa? Or Lady Anne, for that matter! You were supposed to be each other’s chaperone! And why would you see a prince alone and think it wise to join him in a folly?’
‘I… I was trying to make things right! Lady Anne was angry with me. I had made a comment about the prince’s clothing being too tight—without realising he could hear us, and everyone laughed.
But then Lady Anne was so upset with me because she thought I’d ruined her chances of being courted by him.
So when I saw him in the folly, I took the opportunity to apologise.
But I was so clumsy I tripped into him and—dash it—his shirt was too tight!
And it ripped. And then I stepped back because it had ripped, and he tried to stop me falling down the steps, but then he pulled my bodice down by mistake…
’ Selina’s bottom lip trembled, and Aunt Mary’s expression softened.
‘So it’s true. You did rip the clothes off the prince. I thought that a little far-fetched…but life does always surprise me.’ She glanced meaningfully at one of the papers scattered across the table.
There were several, all pulled apart for the Society columns.
One even had a caricature entitled “The Unveiling of the Prince of Thrudheim,” a rather bawdy depiction of their encounter, and Selina looked like some gin-soaked strumpet in a naval costume.
The only comfort was that they hadn’t gotten her hair colour correct and had depicted her as a blonde.
She would wager Lady Anne was furious about that.
‘You should burn them,’ said her aunt softly. ‘No good comes from wallowing in other people’s spite. We can only ever be true to ourselves, and if you say nothing happened, then I believe you.’
Selina nodded, her aunt had always been true to herself, despite the unfriendly gossip that sometimes surrounded her.
She wiped away the tears that had begun to fall out of frustration as well as shame and leaned forward to scoop up all of the papers, including the offensive illustration.
When she had all of them scrunched in her hands, she tossed them into the fire.
It was a relief to watch them burn, and she wondered why she hadn’t done so sooner.
‘There!’ Aunt Mary declared. ‘I bet that feels better.’
Selina smiled weakly. ‘A little. But please come and stay with me. It’s so lonely and empty here. I can’t stand it! I can’t!’ More tears began to tumble down her cheeks, and her aunt gathered her close, a shocked understanding dawning across her face.
‘I understand,’ she said softly, rubbing her niece’s shoulder in a soothing gesture. ‘I will ask the footman to fetch my things. I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner. Mrs Pearce and I took a trip to see her son and his new wife in Brighton.’
Selina nodded. Mrs Pearce was a widow and a close friend of her aunt.
Once, when Selina was a child, she had grumbled to her father about how often her aunt spent with Mrs Pearce.
He’d answered simply, ‘Be grateful you have her at all. If Mary had been born a man, Mrs Pearce would be Mrs Mortimer by now, and they would have travelled the world together—far more than even I.’ Over the years, Selina had understood her aunt’s relationship with Mrs Pearce better.
Now she pitied them their time apart, and the knowing looks they sometimes had to weather.
Their only blessing was that the admiral frightened the life out of most of Great Yarmouth, so they faced very little open spite.
Selina flopped back down into her seat beside her aunt and watched the burning papers curl into black leaves and then crumble to ash. She doubted the gossip surrounding her and the prince of Thrudheim would disappear quite so easily.
‘What about Father?’
‘I will ask him, but you know how he is. He prefers an inn.’
Selina nodded grimly. Her father hated excess and waste, preferring ordinary company to that of the feathered gentry, as he called them. They were so different from each other in all ways.
Magnus had promised her a month of London entertainment once a year. If she behaved, like some well-trained dog. But would this be the Society she came back to? An empty house, where even her own family would struggle to find the time to visit her?
* * *
Magnus had been dreading this meeting with Admiral Sir John Mortimer since he’d announced his arrival in London and accepted his invitation to meet.
Despite his letter reassuring Sir John of his intentions towards his daughter, the admiral had been slow to reply, and when he had, it had only been to inform him that he was now in London and available to meet at his earliest convenience.