The Runaway Princess

Chapter 4

"You never find yourself until you face the truth." Pearl Bailey.

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Chapter Four

Elena settled in over the next few weeks. She effectively became comfortable. She felt safe and secure at Ascot. She felt concealed. She and Marisol were no longer interesting to the other servants. The questions about their past had long stopped. The mealtime conversations often revolved around whatever was on the front page of the newspaper.

The work was demanding, and at times quite tedious, but Elena did not mind. She knew the alternative. She had turned eighteen years old. She and Prince Carlos would have been married and there would have been every likeliness that she would have been carrying his child.

Ascot had hosted several balls in the weeks that Elena had been at Ascot. From what she had seen and heard, they were very glamourous. Of course, what she saw was the disarray that was the ballroom the morning after. Elena could hear the music, though. It sounded wonderful and jolly. On the night of the first summer ball, Elena and Marisol had danced in their bedroom. Of course, they were not familiar with English dances but it was entertaining to try to dance flamenco to a pianoforte. Mrs Johnson had subsequently told them to stop stomping on the floor.

Elena had not encountered any member of the Wilde family since her conversation with David in the hallway. She was glad for it. The little she had to do with them, the better.

Her avoidance of them did not stem her curiosity. Her curiosity surrounding David was very great. He was unlike any aristocrat she had ever encountered. The wealthy men she had known in Spain were all very proper. They would not be seen without their finest and most expensive clothes and they would never lift a finger to work. But work was all David would do. All day, every day.

He was creating some sort of contraption on the stairs. Each morning she would rise to lay the fires in the library, drawing and dining rooms and she would see that something new had been added.

He had fixed two metal, what looked like, poles to the wall below the banister. She was unsure of what it was to be but she was surprised his parents were allowing him to alter their home in such a way. But then again, the Duke and Duchess were nothing like Juan and Lupe. Juan believed in inflicting physical pain as means of securing obedience. The Duke and Duchess seemed to simply love and trust their children. Elena had not heard them raise their voices to their children once. To each other, on the other hand, was another matter altogether.

The Duke and Duchess had no qualms with arguing in front of serving staff. While travelling up the staircases, concealed in the walls, Elena could often hear their quarrelling. The other servants seemed used to it, and were very confident in their Grace’s ability to resolve whatever disagreement they faced.

“Elena,” said Mrs Johnson one Thursday after their morning chores.

“Yes, Mrs Johnson?”

Mrs Johnson handed her a stack of letters. Elena took them carefully. They were not the servants’ letters, they were the family’s. The servants were responsible for mailing their own letters on their weekly trips into the village for church. Of course, Elena and Marisol did not attend the village church. They were Roman Catholics, a fact that did not bother the other servants. They were a very tolerant household. Elena had no desire to attend church. There was simply too much to confess.

Elena turned her attention back to the mail in her hands. Mr Clarke was responsible for the family’s letters. Why was Mrs Johnson giving them to her?