Chapter 10: First Meetings (III)
Brighton, England; July 7th, 1815.
Prince James had already met two thirds of the ladies, and he was eager to get it all over with so he could go to luncheon and be alone for a while and think over all the meetings. Or not. Depending on his mood.
He poured himself another glass of lemonade – he would really need to go relieve himself at some point – and nodded to Henry, letting him know he was ready for the last group of ladies. Henry grinned and went inside, only to come back a minute later with a rather petite lady with very long red hair, styled with braids of various sizes to keep them out of her face. She was also wearing a warm yellow dress with a tartan sash over her right shoulder and a fancy brooch holding it together.
"Dame Beitris MacLeod, sir," Henry said, introducing the lady. If her outfit did not reveal the country she came from, her name certainly did. The lady curtsied as James bowed to her before inviting her to sit.
"Thank you, Yer Highness," she said with a thick accent.
"You carry a very nice brooch," James said, looking at the metallic ornament on her shoulder. "Is it from your clan?"
"It is," she said, smiling. "My father is the Clan Chief."
"I see," he nodded. "I do not want to sound rude or improper by staring at the brooch for too long, Dame MacLeod," James said. "What is written on the brooch?"
"Oh, that is our clan's motto, sir," she said. "Hold Fast." Underneath the words was a bull's head that looked rather angry.
James looked away from the beast and at his guest's face. She could have come straight from an imagery of Scottish folklore, as a fairy herself. She had fair porcelain skin with a rosy, sun-kissed look to it, with big green doe eyes that seemed to have a sparkle of sadness and mischief in them. He wondered at it for a moment before shaking the thought away. He looked at his list of questions. "Dame MacLeod," he said, "what do you enjoy most doing?"
Beitris' smile brightened. "Ye might not think too highly of me if I tell ye, Yer Highness," she said.
"Why ever not?" James asked, surprised. "Surely you do not do anything to tarnish your reputation?"
"Of course not, sir," she said. "I merely spend some of my time doing archery with Fergus, or practice my swordsmanship with my Uncle."
James had not been expecting that in the slightest. "Swordsmanship? But you are a lady!" he exclaimed. "Surely you do not mean– Who is Fergus?"
"My horse, of course," she replied. "And aye, I do mean wielding a sword." She paused. "Ye ken, every girl should learn to protect herself."
"Why?" James asked. "That is what husbands are for, no?"
Beitris let out a small laugh that came out as a cute snort. "But what if one is not married? What then?"
"A father? A brother?" James suggested.
"What if one has none?"
"I thought your father was the Clan Chief?" James continued, not following.
"Officially, aye," the lady said. She pushed some of her heavy braids over her shoulder. "But he is mostly absent and my uncle sometimes takes his place."
James was silent for a moment. One the one hand, he was extremely curious about this sword wielding petite woman, but on the other hand, it was so incongruous that he did not know what to think of it. He would need some time to figure things out about her. He offered her a biscuit from the fancy plate on the table that the footmen had replenished before her arrival and Henry escorted her back inside.
Henry came back with a young woman with long blonde wavy hair with only the front pieces tied up with a blue ribbon; her complexion was quite pale with freckles on her face and sad brown eyes. "Miss Anastasia Butler," Henry introduced her.
"Good morning, Miss Butler," James said, standing and bowing his head as she curtsied to him.
"Your Royal Highness," she said. "It is quite an honor, sir."
James nodded. "Please, do sit." He offered her a cup of tea and she gladly accepted it, as well as a slice of lemon cake. "Miss Butler," he started after a quick glance at his list of questions. "Would you like to tell me a little about where you come from and about your situation, if you please?"
"Of course, sir," she said, her manners quite good. "I live in Liverpool, in England. My father is a high-ranking officer in His Majesty's army, and he has been Knighted by the King– your father, for his brave actions for the Crown during the last battle, in France."
"Ah, yes," James said. "I knew your name rang a bell in my mind. Officer Gerald Butler, is that so?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"Hm, yes. I remember that. I was present when he was Knighted." He paused. "And your mother?"
A shadow passed in her already sad eyes. "She died several years ago due to Lung Fever."
"I am dreadfully sorry," James said. "Are you an only child or do you have siblings?"
"Only a younger sister," Anastasia replied. "But she also died a few weeks after my mother died, also of Lung Fever."
James was silent for a moment. "I'm sorry." He paused. "Is there anything else you would like to discuss, then?"
Anastasia shook her head, her eyes on her tea. "No, my lord."
James nodded at Henry who escorted her back inside. Why did he always put his foot in his mouth? She was clearly upset about talking about her family. Henry could have looked into the girl's background before writing those questions. Oh, well. At least it gave James a small glimpse into what they were like under pressure or discussing hard subjects. Lord knew how much of that there was as crown prince and being a royal in general.
James helped himself to a biscuit when Henry arrived with the next lady. The prince could not deny the fact that she was a true beauty in the worldliest sense of the word: her round face with pale porcelain skin paired with slightly wavy blond hair down her back with the front pieces tied back in a fancy braid and her jewel-toned dress made her the epitome of a perfect English Lady.
"Lady Diana Gray, Your Highness," Henry said.
James wanted to laugh, but he restrained himself. The Diana Gray? The runaway bride who left her husband-to-be at the altar? All of the good Ton of London had heard about the scandal, even the prince who did not partake in Society much, these years. But of course, Henry had told him, because Henry was the Prince of Gossip, like his friends liked to call him. So yes, it was rather ironic that he thought she was the epitome of the prefect English Lady when she had Scandal written all over her name. But James wanted to give her a fresh start here. She must have had her reasons to put her name in this wretched Selection, after all.
"A pleasure, Lady Gray," James said, keeping a perfect composer so as to not let her know he had recognized her name.
"Your Royal Highness," the lady said, curtsying. "The pleasure is mine, of course."
James invited her to sit on the seat across from him and offered her a glass of lemonade, which she denied. "No, thank you," she said. "It is much too sweet for my taste."
"Tea, then?" the prince offered instead. "You do not have to sugar it." Though not sugaring one's tea was quite un-English-like.
"Thank you," she said, accepting the cup of tea, to which she only added a cloud of milk. James noticed she wanted to say something, but clapped her mouth closed, remembering her place. So instead, he asked her the question that Henry had prepared on his list.
"Lady Gray," he started, "do you speak another language than our beautiful English?"
"Oh, yes, of course," she said. "Who does not?"
"Which ones, then?" he asked, ignoring her question. He, in fact, could speak several as well – he must, so he could converse with foreign dignitaries and royals without using a translator.
"French, Hindi, and Italian," she replied proudly.
"French and Italian I can understand," he said. "One needs them in Europe." He paused, raising an eyebrow. "But Hindi? Where did you learn?"
"In India, of course," Diana replied. And before James could ask her more about why or when she was in India, she answered it all. "Up until I was fourteen years old," she explained, "I hadn't set foot in England, following my father all over the globe. We spent many years in India, traveling over the country as a family."
James frowned. "Doubtless that was before your father had to become Viscount Gray, yes?" he asked, hinting that he knew her family at least in name. "What did he do before that?"
"My father is a naturalist specialized in birds – all sorts of birds, really – and he is currently writing a full encyclopedia on Avians." She paused. "And I draw the beasts for him," Diana added.
"That is quite interesting, indeed," James said. "I would like to see your art maybe one day, if you do not mind, Lady Gray."
"Oh, of course!" she said. She took a sip of her tea and they sat in silence. James figured she had probably visited more countries than he had since he had not been farther than the European Continent. He never quite liked the traveling between countries or cities, always being seasick on a ship, and rather bored in a carriage. If he could travel only by horseback, he would do it, but it was not princely, and it was a security risk as well.
Henry waited for her to finish her tea before escorting her back inside, leaving James to his own thoughts for a moment. He came back a moment later with a lady dressed in a pale-yellow dress. Her skin was also very pale, and her freckles seemed to be the most prominent feature of her face, her soft eyes practically hidden by them. She was pretty in her own right, but James did not stop at that.
"Miss Felicity Hathaway," Henry said.
The young lady curtsied, tucking a strand of blond hair behind her ear. She was not of the nobility, or her manners would have been better. James bowed his head to her as well and invited her to sit on the opposite plush chair.
"Miss Hathaway," he said, quickly glancing at his list of questions. "Have you ever participated in the London Season?" James doubted it since she was not of the Gentry, but she still very well could have, if her family was wealthy enough.
"Yes," she replied. "This was my fourth Season, actually." She smoothed a crease in her yellow skirt, avoiding looking at the Prince.
"Fourth?" James said, surprised. "How is that so?"
Felicity half-shrugged and finally looked up. "I am the youngest of my sisters to come out into Society. All four of them found a match in their first Season," she explained, "and my parents wanted me to find a match as well."
"But you did not."
"No." There was an awkward pause.
James wondered why she had not found a match, but would it be prying into one's private life to ask details? Or was he entitled to it since he was himself looking for a bride? He decided he could ask. "Why not?"
Felicity looked away, somewhat embarrassed. "I was hoping for a love match," she said. "But I am afraid no one was even the slightest interested in me and my father is desperate to see me married. Your Highness," she added at the end, as if remembering who she was talking to.
James did not know if wanted to laugh or cry. "I hope you are not looking for a love match here, Miss Hathaway," he said. "There is only one me, and nineteen of you."
She nodded. "I do know that, yes." Felicity took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I simply hope to be more desirable after this, especially if potential suitors know I have been courted by the prince, even for a short time."
"I see," James said. He really did not want to bring her hopes up, but if her staying a few short weeks in the Selection could help her situation when she went back home, then he could certainly do that for her. She wanted a love match, he did not. But maybe he could help her. "Thank you for being so candid with me, Miss Hathaway," he said. "I shall do everything in my power to help you in any way I can."
Felicity mumbled a small thank you before curtsying and walking away with Henry. James figured he could help a good number of them by simply courting them for a few weeks. If at least something good like this could come out of this wretched Selection, he was certain Marianne would be proud of him for thinking of others as well, and not only about his miserable self.
When Henry came back, he was alone.
"Are we done already?" James asked, hopeful.
"No, but I simply wanted to let you know that there are four more ladies to meet, but three of them have not been feeling well, so you shall meet them at another time. One has a fever, another one must have eaten something bad, and the third one fainted." He paused. "They are all well, but have taken to their bed for the moment. So I shall bring you the last one for today."
James nodded and refilled his glass of lemonade. Thank God there was only one left, then, for his bladder was quite full and he did not know how much longer he would be able to wait before relieving himself.
"Lady Rebecca Howard, Your Highness," Henry said, arriving with the last lady. She had pale unblemished skin with long blond wavy hair held back with a red ribbon flowing down the length of her waves, with a matching red dress with small puffy sleeves and a slight train behind her. She curtsied exceptionally well.
"Your Royal Highness," she said in a demure way, bowing her head as well during her curtsy.
"Good morning, Lady Howard," James said. He knew her name, but he could not quite place it. All he knew was that her family was well-known. "Oh," he said, suddenly remembering. "You are Victoria Howard's sister, are you not?" he asked. He had heard the well-known story from Henry himself, though he had not really paid any attention to it at the moment.
A tight smile curled her pink lips. "Yes, my lord," she said. "But as you may well know, she did not marry the prince, but only the Duke of Claremont."
"Yes, right," he replied, unsure why she suddenly seemed to be on the defensive. He looked at the list of question, trying not to mix up the last four names. "Lady Howard, can you tell me what your biggest dream is, if you please?"
"Of course," she said, sitting up straight with her hands in her lap, her cup of tea on the table, untouched. "This might sound quite odd, but I wish to have an eighteen-layer cake at my wedding."
James raised an eyebrow. "I feel there is quite the story behind that," he said. "Does it have anything to do with your sister's wedding with the Duke?" From what Henry had told him and from what he could actually remember of it, the cake had been enormous, even bigger than his.
"It does," she said. Her smile softened a little as she looked at the prince under her long lashes. Her green eyes were rather bewitching, if James had to be completely honest. "What about you, sir? What is your biggest dream?"
His first thought was get the hell out of there and on a ship to America. But of course, he could not say that. And saying that he wished to find a wife during the Selection would be a lie. So he simply said the most mundane dream he could think of. "I would wish to visit India maybe one day." It was the first far-away country her could think of after his conversation with Lady Diana Gray.
"India? How exotic!" Rebecca said. "I heard many great stories about that far away land."
"Yes, indeed," James replied. He tried to look at least a little bit excited about it but it fell rather flat. He sipped on his lemonade, avoiding her green eyes, and Rebecca took it as her cue to pick up her cup of tea and start drinking. They sipped in silence as James counted the seconds before he was free to go relieve himself and go to luncheon.
Hi and sorry for the delay, I was waiting on three more OCs, but as you may have noticed, I decided to post the chapter without them. I will not ask again for them. if I recieve them, good. if not, then too bad. but it has been 2 and half months since I started this story, and I want to write it.
Anyway! sorry also for typos in the chapter, I re-read, but grammarly is down, I dont know why. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and the next two are alread written (thanks to camp nano) so it shouldn't be too long for hte next one! Please tell me what aour thoughts and I will see you next time! Bye! :D
