Serena leant on the sill of the small casement window in her attic room and looked out over the sea of grey slate roofs shimmering in the heat, to the distant dome of St Paul's.
She sighed wishing for the bright blustery moors and the cool clear burns of Scotland where she had spent her childhood, wishing she was anywhere but here in London on this stifling late May morning of 1810.
Amid the clatter of hooves and rumble of iron-rimmed wheels and the cries of the street-sellers and the hawkers at the nearby market she heard the nearest church clock strike the hour and she knew she could not put off her departure any longer.
Dragging in a breath of the humid air, she turned away from the window and picked up her faded blue silk shawl and straw bonnet and the brief letter from Lady Carteret, her application for the post of governess and to attend an interview. She was stupid for feeling so sickly nervous about the prospect of visiting the house. It was not as if she had never met Darien's sister and was likely to be recognised and besides there was no danger of Darien being there.
Darien was dead, lying in some Spanish grave. She had known that for more than a month and yet she still could not really believe it. Her big blue eyes darkened as memories she had tried so hard to bury came tumbling back into her mind. Darien laughing, his dark head thrown back as he had spun her around the ballroom until she had been giddy. Darien with his midnight eyes that had darkened to the colour of black when he bent his head to kiss her. Darien who had left her—
Her fingers clenched upon the brim of her bonnet, I will not cry. She had done crying for him five years ago! Angry with herself she crammed the bonnet upon her head and quickly snatched her small satchel with Lady Carteret's letter stuffed inside and she opened the door. She stood there for a while listening to the loud noises from the house below. She could hear her land lady's raucous laughter drifting up from her kitchen. Good, Mrs Crouch has company and a jug of gin by the sound of it, she thought as she quietly shut the door behind her and silently as possible tread downstairs hoping the floor would not creak. Her rent was more than a week overdue and she had no desire to discuss the matter with Mrs Crouch at this particular moment.
She tiptoed through the dark and dingy hallway, and slipped out of the door into the blinding sunshine and hot, humid air. She briskly walked around the corner of the street until she was out of sight of her lodgings. She untied the ribbons upon her bonnet as she began the long walk to Mayfair after all it was a cool day.
Please, please, let me get this position she prayed silently a little while later as she stood beneath a shady tree looking out upon the big mansion only a couple of feet away from her. Please—
In the six months since her father's death she had applied for post after post as governess or companion and been turned down more times than she could count.
She touched her fingers to her satchel feeling for the letter carefully. She had to get this position. It was that or starve or worse – her mouth thinned and she felt the churning sense of revulsion and fear that she had since the moment Diamond Robson had shown her the debt against her that she had purchased and had suggested exactly how she might pay it.
Lifting her chin, she exhaled slowly and touched the letter again. Surely they were good enough to persuade Darien Haldane's sister to give her a trial.
It was an hour later when Serena was ushered inside the grand house and seated in a very large spacious room, she was seated next to a pianoforte and she couldn't help but remember the times her father would play her favourite song everyday. She lightly traced her hands across the keys and played a few last chords of Sonatina, she let herself drift back in time, a time where money was of no concern to her, where she was loved by Darien –
"You play beautifully" Serena gasped and turned around immediately stepping away from the piano to face Lady Carteret. She slightly bowed her head feeling ashamed for being caught in touching one's belonging without permission.
"I am awfully sorry my lady I did not mean any harm," Serena said apologetically fearing she had lost this opportunity for a position. "There is no need for apology; you play Mozart a deal better than me I can assure you that, Miss Smith." Lady Carteret replied with a small smile.
Serena lifted her head surprised from the friendly tone. She found herself looking at a very beautiful woman, dark black head fitted perfectly with her heart-shaped face, taking in the perfect features and blemishless creamy complexion. Serena could not help but be in awe of the beautiful woman before her, she looks very much like Darien.
"Come – sit down here Miss Smith." There was the faintest hint of amusement in the older woman's voice as she gestured to a well-cushioned chair besides the fire. "It was very rude of me not to introduce myself properly, my name is Raye Carteret," she placed a hand out to Serena and she took it very kindly.
"Now, I think we should begin again don't you think Miss Smith?" Raye was looking at Serena with warm eyes and had seen the split second frightened fear flash in the girl's eyes. "What do you mean?" Serena was startled, for a heart stopping moment she thought Raye somehow knew her real identity.
The cool green eyes met her gaze assessingly. "It is obvious you were raised a lady, by the grace and posture you have, surely no woman would hold herself so high when being dressed in that awful gown. Were you a seamstress?" Serena watched amazed as Lady Carteret examined her hands, marked and rubbed from the endless hours of backbreaking sewing she had done over the last few months in exchange for a wage that did not even pay the rent. Raye frowned at why such a beautiful girl obviously a lady was in such bad condition. "Could you not get better than sewing?"
"No. It seems I am too young, too inexperienced, I have no character – and the agencies I approached said I had not the right looks for a companion." She silently replied.
"I can only agree with them," Raye Carteret said. "Even that ugly gown can not disguise your looks, Miss Smith. Pretty governess or companions cause problems enough, but a beautiful one…." She shook her head and gave a small laugh, "I am sorry but I doubt any mother would employ you for fear her older sons would make fools of themselves and her husband an even greater one, not to mention making her daughters look plain compared to your beauty. If I were you, I should go back to the husband or family you have run away from Miss Smith, and beg their forgiveness or…." She gave a silvery laugh "…find a wealthy protector, my dear. With your looks it really shouldn't be too difficult."
Before Serena could stammer a reply, the door to the room was flung open by a breathless, beaming woman. "M'lady! M'lady!" the woman gasped for air, "you must come at once, M'lady!"
"Really Molly, have you not learnt to knock yet?" Lady Carteret sighed, "Whatever is it?"
"Major Haldane, madam, he's here, downstairs. I heard the doorbell, opened it and there he was – "
Raye was in shock and shook her head at Molly, "No Molly, Major Haldane was killed in January, you must know that by know – "
"No, madam," the maid replied, "the reports were wrong, he was wounded and he's been a prisoner of the French all this time, he's alive, madam, come and see for yourself!"
"Alive." Raye repeated the word blankly. Then Serena saw the same joyous disbelief and dizzying that she was feeling mirrored upon the other woman's face. Then Raye was running for the door as she bunched her skirt carelessly in her hands like a little girl. "Darien, Darien, Is it really you? Tell me you are not a ghost!"
A rich laughing, masculine voice soon joined with Raye's joyous laugh was heard from upstairs. Serena paled immediately. Darien Haldane was not dead. He was not dead! He was here in this house. She put a hand to the mantle to steady herself.
The moment she had read about his death there had been a frozen blackness in her mind, a blackness that was now dissolving and whirling about her as her heart pounded crazily against her ribs. Darien. She inhaled a long breath. It had been five years since he walked away from her life. Her hands clenched into a fist as tears burned behind her eyelids.
"Miss? Are you all right, miss? You're shaking like a leaf in a gale – " Molly touched her arm, making her jolt from her thoughts. "No. I need some air," she blurted knowing suddenly she could not bear to see him. She had dreamed of him every night, which he would come and tell her it was all a misunderstanding and tell her that he would never desert her, not even for some Earl's daughter – but in those dreams she had not worn an ugly gown begging for a position in his sister's household. "Please could you show me out, quickly," she pleaded turning to Molly.
"Of course miss, please follow me." Molly tuned and left the room with Serena right behind. "Watch your step, miss," Molly said as they both descended the long curving flight of stairs. She would be out safely through the great double doors. Out of sight and sound of Darien Haldane.
But she had no such luck, for the door below had opened. She halted knowing in her heart it was him. She stared helplessly as she began to climb the opposite flight, so deep in conversation they had not noticed her or Molly. Her eyes would not obey her as she watched him move up the stairs.
The curl of dark hair at the nape of his neck, the slanting line of jaw and cheekbone was enough to trigger her memory to remind her every detail, from the lines at the corner of his mouth and his eyes when he smiled, to his cheeks when he had bent his head to hers. She slumped against the cool marble wall feeling as if she was falling apart inside.
"Serena!" She saw his mouth frame her name disbelievingly. He looked older; his features sharper, more defined, there was no trace of laughter as he gazed at her. Something twisted and tore her insides. And then she was running, almost stumbling down the marble steps.
"Oh dear, I had quite forgotten about her. Miss Smith – wait!" Raye Carteret's voice rang out after her but she ignored it as she rushed past a bemused Molly. "How very odd," Raye said as she opened the doors to her drawing-room. "She seems so fragile and very lovely, I was considering to give her a trial –" but she broke off abruptly.
Darien was standing stock still, his face pale as his hands were clenched in a tight fist. "Darien?" Raye frowned at him. "What is it? Your wound? Are you feverish….?" Raye broke off as she found herself watching her brother running down the stairs and out of the double doors, as if his life depended upon it.
Phew there fini!
What do you think my lovely people, good or bad, interesting, or not. You decide.
Btw this story does not mean I am going to stop writing 'love across the horizon', no, no surrey I had this in my head and last week I read this book that gave me some great ideas for a new story, so I just had to start writing this or it would be lost in the back of my memory forever!! Lol