𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐒

Chapter 1

"MEDHEL AN GWYNS," LADY DIANA BEAUMONT whispered softly under her breath, as she strolled down the calm street in her cream empire waist morning dress, over which, she wore her soft red spencer jacket. Soft is the wind. It was a Welsh saying she had grown up embedded in her skin, always there to remind her to find the pleasure in the simple—the light in the mundane. The crisp wind swept past her skirts and her hair, threatening everything to come apart, and as she held onto her bonnet against her head, Diana was reminded of her father's words over breakfast, which had included a rather bold, and presumptuous, prediction of a storm.

It was an early autumn day, and colors had already started shifting from bright to muted oranges and burnt reds around her. The usual hustle and bustle of the Southampton countryside felt like music to her ears, with the people's chatter mixed with bird songs in perfect rhythm. The air was largely pine cone scented, with a hint of everything else this particular part of England had to offer—whether it be the sweet smells of freshly brought in fabrics lining the tailors' shops, or the exotic incense that the foreign shopkeepers burnt in a display of their exoticism.

Lady Diana Beaumont cast smiles at all the passerbys acknowledging her; with the gentlemen tipping their top hats in greeting and some of the ladies offering her a wave each with their hastily gloved hands. Some ladies did more than just that, making use of quick feet to hurry on over to Diana's path and restricting their conversations to rushed dinner invitations or acknowledgements for her family—an aunt of hers or another. Diana pinned her best cordial smile on her face, with a mind to deter what seemed prudent to and accept what seemed acceptable. 

Lady Diana Beaumont's father, Lord Augustus Beaumont was a retired navy official and as a result of his service and fortune, owned the Bellevue Hall in Southampton. Her family estate had always been rather a popular ground in the county. Lord Augustus Beaumont's importance in society had deemed it to be so, all throughout Diana's two and twenty years of life.

Bellevue Hall, thus, marked one of the highlights of Southampton, it was somewhat of a county landmark, with the society referring to it countless times in conversations when explaining a certain someone their own address.

'Oh, I live just in front of Bellevue Hall.'

'Oh, haven't you seen Bellevue Hall? Yes, I live just two streets across it!' 

Diana had become so accustomed to her family home being mentioned in everyone's conversations, that sometimes she'd forget it really was her home they were referring to, and not a museum or public park of sorts. 

Despite her father's disapproval on her morning walk, Diana had still set out. Her morning walks were always one of her highlights of the week. Every time on each of her walks, she would go visit the sunflower fields. The gorgeous sunflower fields of Southampton were undoubtedly the best out of all of Hampshire. They spread out, stunning yellow hues of the flowers stretched for miles and miles, and the sun seemed to be setting into a bed of them, if you saw the scene from the hills. It was as though the fields shielded the ball of fire from the darkness, giving it strength until it was once again ready to dominate the sky. 

It had been a while since she stopped by the field. The last time she was there, it had been with her cousin, Lady Alicia Kirkpatrick, who was just as fond of the fields. In Lady Alicia's absence, Diana had no heart to venture out here without her, but exceptions had been made for the day, for Diana had been restless for far too long. 

As she approached the fields, she could spot the vibrant yellows of the sunflowers from a distance. Her heart filled with joy, as the nectary sweet pine infused air took hold of her senses and very soon she could not hear a word of the incident that Mrs. Hart—a very curious tenant of Diana's uncle Lord Seymour, who had apparently invited herself to join Diana shortly after the lady had set out on her walk—was narrating to her. As she kept on picking up her pace, and as Mrs. Hart struggled to keep up, Diana soon approached the fields and completely forgot about the unwelcome companion that had tagged along.