“Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens.” J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring
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Chapter Sixteen
“Of course you may stay at Ascot, Your Royal Highness,” replied Bess warmly, though Elena could see a look of hesitance on her face.
Perhaps it was the unease that Elena, herself, felt at the idea of Joaquín returning her to Spain. Did her brother not understand why she had run from their home? The mere notion of being brought before her tyrant of a father once more terrified her.
“Thank you,” Joaquín said gratefully.
Joaquín and Elena, Emmett, Bess, Alexandra and Imogen all gathered in the drawing room where Mr Clarke and the footmen served morning tea. Joaquín politely drank the tea, though Elena could tell he shared Gabriela’s opinion on its flavour.
“Are you to be the King of Spain?” asked Alexandra curiously.
“Yes, Lady Alejandra,” replied Joaquín. Alexandra blushed at the Spanish translation of her name. Elena noticed that all of the ladies were watching her brother with a dazed look in their eyes. Was Joaquín handsome to them?
Alexandra then shamefully asked, “And do you have a Queen?” Her blush only increased much to her humiliation. Bess arched an eyebrow at her daughter and muttered something that made her sit up straight.
Joaquín smiled coyly. Elena wondered if he enjoyed teasing Alexandra. Elena had never before seen her brother take notice of any woman before as he was always watching and protecting her. “I am betrothed,” Joaquín replied, albeit sounding slightly regretful. “Princess Athena of Greece will be the Queen of Spain when she comes of age.”
Alexandra immediately frowned and said, “Oh,” before she tried to improve her tone to sound more positive about the fact that Joaquín had a fiancée.
“Alexandra, could you please take Imogen upstairs so that you both can collect your travelling cloaks?” Bess asked, her tone very stiff. She was clearly displeased with her daughter’s very obvious, and very quick, infatuation with Joaquín.
“But Mama, we are not going anywhere today,” protested Alexandra.
“We are going to Montrose,” Bess replied calmly, though Elena could tell the journey had only just been decided.
Alexandra reluctantly rose from the settee and helped Imogen to her feet and the two sisters left the drawing room.
“Ella es muy bonita,” whispered Joaquín to himself. Elena could not help but think selfishly at that moment. If Joaquín broke his engagement with Greece, could that not mean that Elena could break her engagement with Portugal?
“I apologise for my daughter’s childish behaviour, Your Royal Highness,” Bess said sincerely.
Joaquín smiled. “Worry not, Duchess,” he replied. “I thought her quite charming.”
“If you do not mind my asking, was your betrothal arranged?” Bess asked curiously.
“We understand that Elena’s marriage was arranged,” added Emmett.
Joaquín nodded. “Yes, all royal marriages are arranged when we are children, infants even. A king marries his children off to create alliances with other counties. They are used for financial and political gain.”
“And you do not have any say in it?” Bess asked despondently.
Joaquín shook his head. “No. It is a contract. I will marry Greece and Elena,” he looked down at her, “will marry Portugal. It is the right thing to do.”
“But what if Elena did not want to return to marry her betrothed?” Bess continued to press. “Might there be some sort of compromise we might reach? We are happy to continue having her here.”
Joaquín pursed his lips. “Our father does not compromise, Duchess,” replied Joaquín. “There is a contact. Elena is a significant part of that contract.”
“Do you mean to say she is listed as an object in this contract?” Emmett asked, sounding quite horrified. “Tell me your father’s price,” he instructed. “Name it and I shall pay it. What do I have to pay to have Elena released from this contract?”
Elena could see that Joaquín was growing agitated. He was unused to being challenged. “It is not about money,” he retorted, “it is about power and heirs. Elena’s sons will sit on the throne of Portugal. Her sons will bond Spain and Portugal for generations to come. No amount of money can pay for an alliance like blood!” He huffed. “I thank you for recovering Elena, but I think we shall take our leave. I passed an inn in the village so I think we shall rest there for the night.” Joaquín rose from the settee and motioned for Elena to follow him. “Come, Elena,” he instructed.
“Joaquín,” Elena said with her teeth clenched, “these people did not recover me.”
“¿Qué?” he prompted.
“They did not recover me!” she said with conviction. “I ran away! I ran away from Padre and from Portugal! I do not want to go back to Spain!” she exclaimed. Joaquín had always protected her. Why was he insisting on this marriage when he knew it was making her miserable?
Joaquín’s eyes softened. “I know you ran away, Elena,” he said calmly. “I know why you ran away, but this is why you must marry Carlos.”
“Why?”
“Because you will be safe with him, Elena!” sighed Joaquín in a frustrated manner. Joaquín suddenly became aware that they were having a very private argument in front of Emmett and Bess. “En español, por favour.”
“No,” snapped Elena. “Let them hear. Please, Joaquín, can you not see that this will make me miserable?”
“He will not make you miserable, Elena!” Joaquín exclaimed. “He is a good man. He will protect you just like I have always done. He will protect you from Padre. He does not deserve this from you, Elena. You are better than this.”
Elena’s lip trembled. She did not often think of what Carlos was thinking or feeling. Elena stopped herself. She never thought of her betrothed’s feelings. “How do you know this?”
“How do I know he is a good man?” His eyebrows rose. “Because he is still in Spain waiting for you, willing to marry you despite you very publically refusing him twice!”
Elena had embarrassed a man she did not even know. How had she never thought of it this way before?
“We may not like it, Elena, but it is what is right,” Joaquín said calmly.
Could it be true? Had Elena been fooling herself into thinking that she could have a life outside the palace? A life that was not royal? No matter who she pretended to be, her blood would always be royal. If Prince Carlos was as good a man as Joaquín believed him to be, then Elena knew she had to go back. She could not humiliate a man who had done her no wrong.
Elena took a deep breath and turned to face Emmett and Bess. “Thank you for your great kindness,” she said formally. “I will only impose upon you for one more night before Joaquín and I leave for Spain.”
Bess frowned and looked very regretful. “Elena …” she whispered sadly.
“It is alright,” Elena assured her. “It is my responsibility. I may not like it, but it is what is right,” she said, repeating Joaquín’s words.
Bess stood up and smoothed her skirt. “Well, it was lovely to meet you, Your Royal Highness. You have a very special sister and I hope your journey is calm and you return in time for a beautiful wedding.” She did not sound at all sincere. “I am going to Montrose to scold my son,” she muttered. “Excuse me.” She smiled sweetly before departing the drawing room.
What if David came to stop her? Would she abandon her responsibility again? If David came for her, then Elena knew she would not be able to stop running once more despite everything else.
Bess and the girls did not return that night, nor did they return before Elena and Joaquín were preparing to leave the following morning.
Elena could not help but watch the window as Marisol helped her to dress in one of Alexandra’s gowns that she had gifted to her. She was waiting to see a carriage, or David galloping down the gravel driveway. But she saw neither.
The only carriage that was present was the one that Joaquín had hired in London that was to return them to the city.
“He will come,” whispered Marisol. “I know he will.”
Elena wore the same red veil and peineta that she had worn to the ball as she knew she would now be travelling as a princess. “But what if he does not come?” asked Elena. “I broke his trust. He sees it as a betrayal.”
“You must have faith,” encouraged Marisol.
Before she left Ascot, Elena sat down at the writing desk and wrote two letters. One to Bess, and the other to David. She knew there was a chance that he would not come for her, and there were things that she needed to say if he did not.
To Bess, she wrote:
Dear Bess,
I shall never be able to repay you for your kindness and understanding.
You have been more a mother to me in these last weeks than my own mother has in my eighteen years. For the first time in my life I have felt maternal warmth and love, and that is a feeling I shall forever treasure. You are an outstanding mother and an unforgettable person.
If I could ask one favour, can it be this? Gabriela has promised to write me when her child comes. If she sends the letter here, could you please send it to me at the palace?
Thank you for all you have done, and all you have tried to do with David.
Yours gratefully,
Elena.
Elena wrote several drafts of David’s letter. It was hard to find the right words. She had at first written him a long explanation, and then a long apology. Eventually, she settled on this:
To my dear David,
You will perhaps never understand why I lied. My deceit may well be a fault you cannot forgive.
But if your feelings are anything like mine, then I would forgive you. I would see the best in you. I would see the person I have known these last few months and I would overlook any fault. I would want a future with you. I would not hold onto the past.
I hope you can one day see the best in me. It was you who brought out the best in me. I have never smiled or laughed or loved before you.
I will always love you, no matter what happens.
From now until death, I shall remain,
Your Elena.
Elena wrote David’s name and his address at Montrose Manor on the front of the letter and sealed it closed with wax and a candle.
She instructed Marisol to ring the bell for help to carry her things down to the carriage while she went down to farewell the servants. Elena stole down the servants’ staircase to the very bottom. When she arrived in the dining room, she caught most of the servants as they sat down to their luncheon.
Mr Clarke immediately stood up and bowed to Elena. The rest of the household staff followed suit, bowing and curtseying clumsily as they tried to avoid bumping into their neighbours.
“Please do not fuss.” Elena smiled kindly. “I wanted to say goodbye. I know my true identity was quite a surprise,” Elena began, knowing that was a big understatement, “but I enjoyed working with everyone. I enjoyed knowing you and I have such a great respect for how hard each of you work. Thank you for embracing me.” The last part was a lie on their part. Elena was not embraced once she began attending to Gabriela. Several of the maids were quite jealous and Elena received her fair share of glares. Prior to that, though, Elena had thoroughly enjoyed being just another housemaid.
“Thank you, Your Highness,” said Mr Clarke sincerely. “On behalf of the staff, we wish you Godspeed.”
“Good luck, Your Highness.” Mrs Johnson smiled at Elena.
“Thank you both,” said Elena gratefully. “I shall just go and say goodbye to Mrs Weston and then Joaquín and I will be leaving.”
Mr Clarke informed Elena that he would be upstairs shortly to organise the footmen for their departure.
Elena handed him her letter for David and he promised her that he would ensure its swift delivery.
Elena turned away from them and walked into the large kitchen that currently smelled like a hearty stew. Mrs Weston was animatedly tending to one of the large pots on the stove, adding all sorts of ingredients. The kitchen maids scurried about, preparing the trimmings.
Elena cleared her throat. “Mrs Weston?”
Mrs Weston immediately turned around and smiled widely. “Is it that time already?”
“I am afraid so.” Elena nodded.
Mrs Weston hurried over to Elena and gave her a tight hug, despite her new identity. Elena hugged the friendly cook back.
“Thank you, Mrs Weston,” Elena said sincerely. “You brought Marisol and me in from the cold. You fed us and secured positions for us when we had no hope. You truly are a kind woman.”
Mrs Weston beamed and cupped Elena’s face. “It was a pleasure, dear girl,” she replied. “Now, you be safe. I have packed you some food for the journey. It will not see you to London but I hope you enjoy it.” Mrs Weston fetched a basket that was sitting idly on the corner of the kitchen top and handed it to Elena.
Elena smelled the basket and her eyes widened. Those scents were very familiar. She uncovered the basket and saw three bowls of paella.
“One bowl for you, your handsome brother, and dear Marisol. I found a recipe for ‘Valencian Paella’ in a cookbook my mother sent me. I made it with the chicken that the butcher brought me this morning. Eat it as soon as you leave as I do not want it to go cold. I have never made it before so I do hope it tastes similar to what you are used to.” Mrs Weston smiled sadly. “There are napkins and utensils in the basket as well.”
“It looks exactly as it is supposed to,” Elena informed Mrs Weston. “Thank you so much.” Elena hugged Mrs Weston once more and then climbed the servants’ staircase to the first floor.
Emmett, Derek, Rose, their daughter Grace, Maggie, Max and their two children, Janna and Nora all gathered in the foyer to farewell Elena and Joaquín.
Elena hugged every one of them, thanking them personally for making her feel so welcome.
When she stepped outside, Mr Clarke and the footmen were finishing packing the carriage. Marisol appeared ready to leave. After farewelling the family, she climbed inside the carriage. Elena watched the front gate for several moments but no one appeared.
Please, she prayed, please come for me. There was a small part of her that still believed he would ride gallantly up to the carriage and sweep her up onto his steed, ready to run away and elope, but her hope was fading fast.
“Let us go, Elena,” Joaquín quietly urged.
Elena nodded. With one last wave to the Wildes, Elena climbed into the carriage, followed by Joaquín.
A few minutes later, the driver moved the horses into a steady trot and they took off towards the gate. Elena watched closely as they travelled further and further from Ascot. She watched the hills, looking for riders. She watched the roads for carriages. But she saw nothing.
Her lip trembled as she drew the curtain and slouched in her seat, defeated. “He did not come,” she murmured quietly to herself.
“What was that?” asked Joaquín.
“Nothing,” replied Elena. “It does not matter. Not anymore.”
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Looks like we're going to have to take this party to Spain ;) Can't wait to write Elena's father - he's a real bastard!
Nothing much happened today, except that I handed out medals and certificates to 60 of the kids that I train as it's the end of the year and not one of them said 'thank you'. That is going to be the first thing I teach my kids - manners! I swear, all I remember my mum saying to me when I was a kid was 'What do you say?' and I would always say 'thank you' :P
Anyways, I have a Vampire Diaries episode loading so I'm off to go and perve on Damon Salvatore ;) Adios! Vote and comment!!!!