Chapter Eleven #2
Why did they always treat her as if she were a child?
She sighed. She knew why; they thought her silly and stupid.
She had never been able to read and write properly—communication in general had always been a problem for her—and so they thought her a little simple.
Combine that with her tendency to be quick with her emotions and they tended to avoid confrontation with her altogether…
at least, until it was too late for her to make a scene.
Would Magnus treat her the same? And what about her wedding night? She knew he hadn’t wanted to marry her. But surely given time they would understand each other better and learn to get on with it. She squirmed a little at her wayward thoughts.
Was that why she had agreed to marry him? A silly romantic part of her wishing for more?
A false hope considering he now wanted them to leave like thieves in the night? With no wedding night, no weeks or even days to become accustomed to each other before travelling to Thrudheim. She could guess what awaited her on that dreary island.
Plenty of hard work, books, tutors, and humiliation. The training and challenges of becoming a princess that Magnus had mentioned and that she now dreaded because she knew she would fail, as she always did with book learning.
And what about her triumphant return to Society? She had won the greatest prize of all—a prince! Was it so wrong of her to enjoy being a princess—if only for a short time? To show those people who had looked down their noses at her that they were wrong, that she did have some value after all?
Was Magnus as embarrassed by her as her father was?
Aunt Mary leaned closer, her voice hushed in a conciliatory tone. ‘Your father didn’t wish to worry you. You had so much to think about, with the wedding dress and your trousseau…’
A weak argument and Aunt Mary knew it, because further explanation failed her.
A horrifying thought struck her. ‘Is that why Louisa stayed at the townhouse today? Is she not coming with me?’
Her aunt bit her lip. ‘Louisa’s family live in Great Yarmouth, my dear.
Her mother is with child again, and she has so many brothers and sisters to look after.
It was fine for her to spend a couple of months with you in London for the Season, but to force her to live so far away from them forever? That would be unkind.’
Selina nodded, but she could feel tears pricking at the backs of her eyes. ‘But you will come with me, won’t you?’
Aunt Mary looked down at her plate miserably. ‘Your father would be lost without me running his house… But perhaps Mrs Pearce and I can visit you, when you come to London?’
Selina couldn’t believe that they would all betray her like this. She scraped her chair back, startling the footman as she stood and stormed up the length of the table.
‘Selina, sit down. There is no need to make a scene,’ warned her father with a frown, but Selina was already picking up her skirts and striding away. For once, she wasn’t under his command, and she shot him a glare as she passed him, before coming to a halt beside her new husband.
‘A word, please!’ she snapped down at Magnus before she left. He seemed equally surprised by her behaviour, but she didn’t care.
Was this to be the start of her new life? Exchanging one dismissive and unfeeling man for another? Fine. If that was the way of it, then she would treat it as a job and ensure that she got paid!
* * *
Magnus rose from his seat and slowly followed Selina from the dining room into the parlour, unsure of what to make of her furious exit. In a strange way, he was relieved that she’d taken it upon herself to speak with him—even if it was only in anger.
The last couple of hours he’d been uncertain of what to do or say, so he had chosen the safety of silence. Selina had stolen his breath and his words for a second time, the crimson flowers and ribbons reminding him of when he’d first seen her.
He was in awe of her. How effortlessly she seemed to draw all the colour and attention of the room to her like a fisherman reeling in a net.
The past week he’d been busy making arrangements for their special licence and wedding, but there hadn’t been a moment when he hadn’t thought of Selina.
Wondered how she would look on their wedding day, how she would manage the crossing to Thrudheim and her new duties. At night, he’d allowed himself to wonder about their wedding night, and several times he’d dreamt of the folly.
He’d been so preoccupied by thoughts of her that it had almost been a relief to see her again and know that they were now married, that she couldn’t run from him again.
‘We’re leaving for Thrudheim this afternoon?’ Selina turned and hissed at Magnus like a viper as soon as he entered the parlour.
‘Did your father not tell you of our plans?’ he asked, bewildered.
‘Our plans? And whose plans are those? Yours and mine, or yours and my father’s?’
Magnus couldn’t believe the admiral hadn’t informed his daughter about the travel arrangements. Especially after her father had agreed that a quick removal from England would probably be in Selina’s best interests.
Why would he leave it so late to tell her?
‘I am sorry your father failed to tell you of the travel arrangements. But we must return to Thrudheim as soon as possible. There is much to do with the royal wedding, the Midsummer festival and my sister’s visit later in the year.
You will need to be educated and prepared for your duties, and—’
‘Why do we have to be married again?’ she asked, rolling her eyes dramatically. ‘Wasn’t it dull enough the first time?’
He frowned at her waspish tone. ‘We must be married under Thrudheim law as well as English, and, of course, there is the coronation—which is the best translation I can give for the blessing ceremony. As my consort you are not so much as crowned, as anointed. It is a Thrudheim tradition and difficult to explain, so let us just call it a coronation for ease. There will be a lot for you to prepare for, most importantly your royal address to our people. Do you speak any Norwegian?’ he asked hopefully but knew immediately by the narrowing of her eyes that she did not.
He supposed if she didn’t enjoy reading, she wouldn’t be overly studious in her languages either…
which was a pity. ‘No matter, you can read your speech in English, and I will interpret.’
Selina paled and shook her head. ‘I…’ Her shoulders slumped. ‘I will worry about that nearer the time. I had hoped that we could spend more time in London first. So that I may return to Society, before having to leave it again.’
Magnus crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Your father warned me that you would be disappointed to miss out on the rest of the Season. Especially now that you are a princess and can show off your title to all of your friends.’ He scowled as he said the last word.
None of those women were true friends, and the fact that Selina still cared proved she was either a vapid social climber or deeply naive.
He suspected the latter by the flash of hurt that flickered across her face, before it was quickly burned up with a flush of anger. She was a strange mix of innocence and rebellion.
‘Would that be so bad? To spend some time together at balls and dinners?’
‘You can enjoy the entertainments of the Season next year, remember?’ he retorted with equal frustration.
‘If I am good?’ she snapped bitterly, and he wondered for a moment if he had offended her with his offered reward.
‘Exactly… That is what you want, is it not?’
‘Fine!’ she grumbled, throwing herself down into a nearby armchair with a huff. But it was clear from her expression it wasn’t what she wanted; he imagined none of this was.
Peeking up at him, she asked softly with pleading eyes, ‘But must we leave today? I was hoping to make amends with some of my friends before I left.’
‘I doubt Lady Anne will forgive you. Especially now that we are married.’
Sadness swept over her face, and he was horrified that she might even cry—and he wasn’t sure how he would comfort her if she did.
‘Not only Lady Anne… I had hoped that after the gossip had died down, the rest of my friends would understand and forgive my mistake. But no one came to the wedding. I invited them… I wrote to them and explained…but no one came. Perhaps…it was because of the early hour?’
Magnus stiffened at the crack of pain and hope in her voice. He hadn’t realised she’d invited anyone else to their wedding. Her father had confirmed they had no other family, and he had presumed that was that.
Magnus took a step closer and stared down at her with a firm expression.
The kind he used when reminding Hans of his duty.
‘You will be anointed as Her Serene Highness, Princess Selina of Thrudheim. You answer to no one and have nothing to be ashamed of. If they did not care to come, they do not matter.’ He sat awkwardly on the petite armchair beside hers; it was too small for him, and he perched on the edge of the seat, before gingerly taking her hands in his.
She stared down at them as if confused by his touch.
Unsure of what intimacies he was allowed or able to give without looking a fool, he resorted to a friendly pat of her hand, as if she were a senile great-aunt rather than the lush woman that haunted his dreams. ‘Selina, there is much to do. Our country needs us. Next Season, I swear, you will be able to return here in triumph.’
She blinked up at him in confusion. ‘Our country?’
‘Of course. Thrudheim is your home now.’
Her smile flickered with hope, but then she slipped her hand from his. ‘And you swear I can return to London next Season?’
He nodded and tried not to take offence that she’d been the first to break their touch.
‘So we leave after the wedding breakfast? Where will we sleep tonight?’ she asked hesitantly, avoiding his eyes.
At least he could reassure her about that—he wasn’t an animal, no matter his baser instincts or how many nights he’d woken imagining himself making love to her in that folly. ‘I will not consider us officially married until after our wedding in Thrudheim.’
She sighed, and he was uncomfortably aware it was a sigh of relief.
Of course she would be nervous of their wedding night.
They barely knew one another! A quiet moment passed, as she stared down at the skirt of her wedding gown for a moment and smoothed one of the crimson bows.
‘No one is coming with me,’ she said miserably.
‘Not my aunt or even my maid. I will be completely alone.’
He wasn’t sure what to say. He’d never been very good at comforting women and would rather have taken a beating than listen to Helga or his mother cry. He could feel Selina’s misery as if it were a rope around his chest, slowly tightening and pushing the air from his lungs.
Helga had refused to take any Thrudheim maids or companions with her to Norway. She hadn’t even asked for Sonja to accompany her, and she had refused his offer to travel with her. She’d boarded the ship with their parents and no other friends. She’d not even looked back as she sailed away.
He wasn’t sure why he said it, but he found himself repeating the same parting words Helga had given him when he’d asked her why she’d refused to take anyone with her.
‘A new life is better born without witnesses from the old.’