The Runaway Princess

Chapter 3

“Truth never damages a cause that is just.”  Mahatma Gandhi.

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Chapter Three

Elena had been convinced that she was about to be sacked. She had effectively been eavesdropping on the Duchess and her son. She had not meant to, but she had heard her insist that he meet young potential brides during the summer.

In her embarrassment and shame, the young heir’s appraisal of her had almost gone unnoticed. But she had noticed it. A man had never looked at her like that before, mostly because of who she was, or who she had been. They did not dare look upon a prince’s betrothed. King Juan would not have stood for it. Elena and her elder sister, Gabriela, were meant for their fiancé’s eyes only.

Elena could not remember the name of the Duchess’ son. She had been so panicked that her identity would be realised that she had concentrated on little else. Only now that she was being pulled down the servants’ staircase did she realise that recognition was almost impossible in rural England.

“I am so sorry, Elena,” apologised Sarah as they came to the hallway that led into the dining room. “Master David was not expected until this afternoon. I should not have left you alone in his bedchamber.”

David. That was it. Elena felt quite silly as Sarah had mentioned ‘Master David’ near five hundred times as they dusted and polished his bedroom.

Marisol took hold of Elena’s hand and squeezed it.

“Will they be very angry?” Elena asked Sarah fearfully.

Sarah frowned. “Oh, no,” she assured Elena. “Her Grace is one of the kindest women I have ever encountered. She insists that we call her ‘Bess’ but she still receives ‘Your Grace’.”

Elena recalled that she had introduced herself as ‘Bess’. She had also been dressed in her night things. She seemed like a very informal woman. Elena’s own mother would not emerge from her bedchamber unless she was draped in silk and jewels. Elena could not remember a time when her mother was without her fine embellishments.

Two young housemaids passed their group in the hallway giggling about something. Sarah, being the head housemaid, frowned and stopped them. “What is so funny?”

“Nothing,” replied the taller of the two. “We just saw Master David throw Lady Imogen over his shoulder to bring her downstairs. She was laughing,” she reported.

Lady Imogen had to be one of David’s sisters. Sarah had said that he was good to them.

Sarah placed her hands on her hips. “I do not see the reason for childish giggling.”

The small of the two blushed. “Have you not seen Master David since his return, Sarah? He is so handsome!”

Sarah’s eyes narrowed. “You have chores,” she said bluntly.

The two maids quickly dispersed with guilty expressions on their faces.

Once they were gone, Sarah smiled. “I did see Master David,” she said quietly to Elena and Marisol. “I do envy the woman he will one day marry.” She giggled quietly to herself before leading Elena and Marisol away to perform their other responsibilities.

By luncheon, Elena had learned how to lay a fire and she had Marisol together had polished every piece of silverware that was to be used at the family’s luncheon twice. Mr Clarke had not been satisfied the first time. Elena had a newfound respect for the servants at her home in Spain. The silverware simply appeared on the dining table. She had never thought of the meticulous polishing that went into preparing every single piece of cutlery.