“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.
Mrs Weston had prepared egg salad sandwiches for luncheon from the leftover hard boiled eggs from breakfast. Elena hungrily feasted on the egg, cabbage and homemade mayonnaise sandwiches. It was a very simple dish, and not one that she would have particularly enjoyed otherwise, but the work had made her famished. Elena supposed that would be something else that she would miss from home. Elena would miss the food, particularly the Spanish cook’s paella or even gachas. Elena wondered if Spanish puddings had found their way to England. If she were allowed to, she could probably cook churros on her own.
“What is Spain like?” asked a lady’s maid named Nora. Elena had never before seen a Negro woman. She had heard of them, of course, but never seen one. Nora seemed kind and cheerful, though, and those around her seemed to like her.
As Elena was about to automatically answer, Marisol interrupted.
“We have never been,” replied Marisol, eyeing Elena carefully, “as we are from Cornwall. Our parents are from … Barcelona,” she lied, obviously choosing the first Spanish city to enter her mind that was not their true home of Madrid.
“I hear Spain is very beautiful,” Elena said anyway. “In our parents’ home of,” Elena glanced at Marisol, “Barcelona, there is a street called La Rambla.” Her lie had captured the attention of the table. Even Mr Clarke had stopped eating to listen. “La Rambla is lined with trees that are one hundred and fifty years old.” Elena could remember touring Barcelona after the riots of 1835. Her father had been there to calm the religious anarchy but all Elena could remember were the pretty trees that lined the promenade.
“I have never been farther than Derby,” complained a maid whom Elena believed was called Flora.
“Forgive me for interrupting,” said a male voice from the doorway.
There was clattering of cutlery and teacups as the servants abandoned their meals in fright. David was standing in the doorway with his hands behind his back. Elena’s heart suddenly sped up. Would he single her out? Would he be offended that she overheard his mother’s private plans?
Her fears came true when his blue eyes found her. “Mr Clarke, could you please spare Elena for a moment?” he asked politely.
Mr Clarke nodded. “Of course, Master David.” He motioned for Elena to stand up and follow David.
Elena rose from her seat timidly and tried to, as gracefully as possible, climb over to the bench. She followed David into the hallway and took a deep breath.
This was it. She was to be sacked. Where would she go? What would she do?
David smiled widely, amused.
Elena’s worrying ceased for the smallest of moments as she appreciated his nice smile. The two maids from earlier were very right. David was a very handsome young man.
“Do not panic, Elena, you are not in trouble,” he assured her. “If you were, Mr Clarke would be present.”
Elena bit her lip. “Then why did you summon me?”
“I wanted to apologise for my mother.” David rolled his eyes. “For what you heard her say,” he clarified. “She means well.” He chuckled as he shook his head. “I only wanted to make sure that you did not think less of us because of what you overheard. Ascot is a very good place to work and I do not want your first impression to be tarnished by my mother’s eccentric need to marry me off.”
Elena had not been expecting that. He was apologising to her? “I did not hear anything,” she lied, attempting to gain some sort of rapport with David.
David arched an eyebrow. “Do not lie to me, Elena. No harm ever came from telling the truth, only understanding.”
How untrue that statement was. There would be nothing but harm if Elena told the truth.
I am a princess.
My father is the King of Spain.
I am betrothed to a Portuguese prince.
Marisol is not my sister.
She taught me English so that I could run.
I fled my country.
I fled my marriage.
I abandoned my family.
I abandoned my duty.
Telling the truth could only cause harm.
Elena seemed very anxious. David could understand that as her, for want of a better word, master, he could be intimidating, but he did not want to be that sort of master. For goodness’ sake, his mother liked to be known simply as ‘Bess’. He did not want to make anyone nervous. She had been so frightened that she had lied to him in order to please him.
David did not like lying. Deception was a vice he would not tolerate.
Elena was young and nervous and she had been trying to be polite. He could not condemn her for that. How could he condemn her when she was looking at him with her wide, frightened brown eyes?
“Do not be afraid of me, Elena,” he said softly. “I am your ally and, if you wish, a friend.”
Elena smiled slightly. “I have not had many friends in my life,” she whispered.
She was a perplexing little thing. But he did mean that he would be a friend if she wanted one. He enjoyed friendly relationships with the servants.
“Good day, Elena,” he said dismissively, smiling. He bowed his head respectfully before retreating up the servants’ staircase to return to his family.
They were gathered in the library. Bess, Rose, Alexandra and Maggie were discussing the dances for the ball later in the week while Emmett and Imogen sat at Emmett’s chess table playing each other in the game that ultimately tested one’s logic.
David had never encountered a better chess player than his father. Emmett was not shy in declaring his skill either. Both he and Alexandra simply refused to play him. It was not that David did not like losing, it was that he could not handle his father winning.
Imogen was the only one who put up with Emmett’s game play. More often than not, though, he let her win. To let Imogen win was a big deal. Emmett had always refused to let anyone win in a game of chess. His philosophy was that one had to better their skill until they could best him.
Every so often, though, Emmett would sacrifice his Queen to allow Imogen victory. David admired Emmett’s tender treatment of Imogen, though he did not realise that Imogen did not like to be tenderly treated. She saw it as a reminder of her own inferior self.
David’s twin sisters were both twenty years old, yet they could not have been more different. Their hair colours were just the beginning. Alexandra was tall for a woman, just like Bess was. She enjoyed sports and was very proficient with a bow and arrow and enjoyed to ride horses. She enjoyed dancing and cricket and she was very popular with young gentlemen.
Imogen, on the other hand, was very small. She stood just four feet and eight inches tall and was at least five inches smaller then every woman in their acquaintance. Because of Imogen’s condition, she spent a lot of her time seated so she had put the time to use. She was very clever. She was well versed, spoke five languages and could get by in several others. She enjoyed reading and chess and she was very skilled on the pianoforte. She, however, could not pull the string of a bow more than twice without tiring and she had never danced. She had never been atop a horse and her little energy meant that gentlemen rarely, if ever, approached her.
David felt guilty every time he climbed atop a horse or pranced around a ballroom. He took his strength for granted. Imogen’s physical ailments limited her so which was why he wanted to make the simple things easier for her.
Even though the twins were so different, they were still the closest of friends. Alexandra was the only person in their family who did not treat Imogen as if she might break. Alexandra was, David knew, the person that kept Imogen from screaming.
Ascot had become a more cheerful place since Maggie and Max had married and she had become a permanent resident. It was frightening to think that they had been married for nearly eight years. Their marriage had produced two daughters, Janna and Nora, named for two of their dearest friends. The six and five year old sisters were currently in the care of their father and grandfather while they were at the hotel.
“Check mate, Papa,” announced Imogen, though the tone of her voice was not impressed.
“Again?” Emmett groaned as he stood up from his chair.
“You put your Queen in the path of my rook on purpose.” Imogen rolled her eyes.
Emmett offered her his arm to lean on but Imogen ignored it. She set her hazel eyes on the settee currently occupied by Bess, Rose, Maggie and Alexandra and began to move slowly towards it.
Imogen could manage a room if she tried very hard. All David knew was that her limbs became very heavy and her head became light. She had fainted several times due to strenuous exercise she put herself through.
The stairs, though, were out of the question. That was why David was determined to solve them for her. If his farfetched invention worked, Imogen would manage the stairs by herself.
Emmett hovered behind Imogen, ready to catch her should she faint. Imogen made it though and sat down beside Bess with a satisfied, yet tired, smile on her face.
Bess rubbed her thigh proudly.
“Imogen,” Alexandra said as she shoved sheet music in front of her sister, “the waltz or the quadrille first?”
Imogen pursed her lips as she read the music. “Save the waltz,” she decided. “It is a romantic dance best served for moonlight. The quadrille is jolly. It is better suited to get the guests in the mood for dancing.”
“You are such a romantic, Imogen,” Maggie said dreamily.
Alexandra placed the waltz further back in the lists of sheet music that she and the women were sorting.
David noticed that his fifteen year old cousin and Rose and Derek’s daughter Grace was missing from the library. He had not seen her all day, actually.
“Where is Grace, Aunt Rose?” asked David.
“She is at the hotel with her father,” replied Rose. She smiled affectionately. “Sometimes I thank my lucky stars that Derek is American. Both of my girls will receive their equal share. Grace has become very interested in the business, just like Rebecca did before she had children.”
Rebecca lived two miles from Ascot in a fine manor house called Salisbury Hall. She and her husband, Sir James Spencer, had one son and daughter, James and Simone. Simone was named for James’ favourite brother. He was determined to honour his brother by naming a son after him. When Simone was born a daughter, they added an ‘e’. They were still yet to meet the elusive Simon Spencer, the decorated military officer, but David was certain it would happen all in good time.
“Did you speak to that poor maid?” Bess asked David. Bess had been as concerned as David had been. She did not want Elena to believe that she had done anything wrong.
David nodded. “Yes, Elena understands that you belong in a matchmaking asylum,” he teased.
Alexandra, Imogen, Rose, Maggie and even Emmett began to laugh. Bess merely raised her eyebrows, though she wore an amused expression. “Hush now,” she snapped. “I am glad she knows there is no ill feeling.”
The family talked about the upcoming ball until it was time for luncheon. Even Imogen seemed excited about the gathering. Bess had written to Montrose and had invited Nate, Charlotte and their children for dinner. She had also sent a missive to Salisbury Hall inviting Rebecca and James to dinner as well.
“I forgot to disclose to you some exciting news,” Emmett said suddenly during luncheon.
The family paused to listen.
“I received a letter from an old school friend,” he began. “He had been married by proxy and they have recently met and wed properly. He is bringing his new wife to England as she has never been. They are, of course, going to London to be guests at Court but he has asked permission to stay at Ascot for a week or so before they journey on to Scotland.”
David furrowed his brow. Married by proxy? That was not something that one heard every day.
“Who is it, dear?” asked Bess.
“Crown Prince Christian of Denmark,” replied Emmett casually.
Alexandra nearly choked. Imogen smacked her on the back. “You are acquainted with a crown prince, Papa?”
“Do not be so surprised, Allie,” said Emmett smugly. “I went to school with many a young royal. But anyway, he is bringing his new wife, Gabriela, to England. There you are, children, you shall meet the next rulers of Denmark soon.”
“Gabriela does not sound very Danish,” commented Maggie.
“That is because she is Spanish,” replied Emmett. “Infanta Gabriela.”
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Me thinks Elena will have to stay hidden ....
I got some questions and I have forgotten which chapters they were on or who asked them so I'm sorry but here are the answers:
1. How do you upload so fast?
I'm really lazy when it comes to everything but writing so I put off what I'm supposed to be doing and I write. For example, my mum went away for three days yesterday and asked me to hang the towels out. They're still in the washing machine. I'm going to have to wash them again because they're starting to smell :P
2. How many kids to Maggie and Max have?
You just found out. If you're a skim reader like me and you miss things. 2.
3. What happened to Imogen?
She was starved of oxygen at birth and it has affected her physical development.
Happy Remembrance Day for the 11th everyone! It's not happy but it's good to remember. I love the reading that is read every November 11th.
" They grow not old as we that are left grow old: age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning we will remember them. Lest we forget."
I just think that is so moving. Lest we forget! My Great Uncle fought for England in WWII and he was mentioned in two telegrams to the King :)
Vote and comment!!