Chapter 13: Unchaperoned

The Pavilion, Brighton; July 11th, 1815.

Elsie MacGregor woke up that morning with the sun rays coming through the light curtains and making squares of light on her bed covers. The maid who had been assigned to take care of her during her stay at the Pavilion drew the curtains open.

"Good morning, lady MacGregor," she said. "I hope you had a good night's sleep."

"Aye," Elsie said. She rubbed her eyes and stretched like a feline under her light summer covers. "What time is it?" she asked. "It feels like it is quite early."

"It is, I am afraid," the maid said. "But you have received an invitation." She held out the small silver tray with the envelope on it, and the Scottish lady took the paper.

"Is it from the Prince?" she asked. If it was, she was quite surprised to be the second to be able to spend a private moment with him. The maid nodded; it was indeed from the prince. Elsie opened the letter and quickly read it, still sitting in her bed in her nightgown, her hair plainly braided for the night.

Lady MacGregor,

Would you do me the honor of joining me for a morning ride through the Pavilion's grounds? Meet me at the stables ready to ride at seven o'clock.

HRH Prince James.

"I do not really have a choice, do I?" Elsie asked softly. She was not expecting an answer from her maid, and she received none. She was here to compete for the prince's hand in marriage, for her mother's sake, but if she could be anywhere but here, she would. Elsie took a deep breath and got out of bed, quickly glancing at the clock on the wall: she had thirty minutes to be ready before she was late to meet the prince.

Her maid laid out a dark pink riding dress made of rougher fabric than what she had been wearing since arriving in Brighton with a pair of women's riding boots, laced up to the top. While the servant was securing her hair in a tight bun and pinning a dark pink top hat slightly tilting to the side because of the updo, Elsie drank a large cup of hot cocoa and ate two buttered toasts to hold off her morning hunger until breakfast she would be eating later that morning when they would come back from their ride, as it was usually served around ten o'clock each morning.

To complete her riding outfit, the maid gave her a brand-new riding crop and riding gloves before sending her on her way to the Stables where the prince would be waiting for her. Elsie walked with purpose, her head held high and a smile plastered on her face: she would make the prince like her. And if she needed to use more than her wit and her charming smile, she would.

She arrived at the stables just in time to see the prince leading two horses outside, one tall and black, the other slightly shorter and of a lighter color. She was not sure if it would be called beige or brown, but she did not care.

"Yer Highness," she said, curtsying.

"Good morning, Lady MacGregor," James replied, barely looking at her. "This is Molly, one of the finest mares of these stables. She shall be yours for this morning."

"I thank ye, sir," she said. "She is quite beautiful." Elsie took Molly's reins and stood right in front of her, letting the horse smell her and get used to her presence. She stroked the animal's head, which got her a happy neigh. "Hello, there, Molly," she said softly. "We shall be partners this fine morning." And with that, James helped her up on the saddle, giving her a leg up as she sat sidesaddle. "Thank ye, highness," she said offering him a smile.

James looked at her, then, and nodded. "You're welcome," he mumbled before climbing on his own black horse. He giddied it up and she followed a little behind, as was the proper etiquette. Suddenly, Elsie looked around them, and apart from two redcoats keeping their distance also on horseback, there was no one else with them.

"I am sorry for interrupting yer thoughts, my lord," she said, "but are we not chaperoned?"

The prince looked over his shoulder at her. "No."

"Why not? I believe it is not proper, is it?"

James shrugged. "Lord Henry Windsor is not an early riser and hates riding horses. Neither does Lady Valery, and she is indisposed at the moment." He paused. "There is them, if you really want a chaperone," he added, motioning to the redcoats with his chin.

Elsie nodded. It was true that she had noticed that Lady Windsor had not been present at dinner the previous night. "Is she alright, though?" she asked.

"Who?"

"Lady Valery Windsor."

"Yes, she simply needs her rest at the moment," was all the prince offered. Elsie wondered what was wrong with her and hoped that it was nothing too problematic. She had not talked to her privately since they had traveled together from London, but she was hoping to get to know the lady, too.

They rode in silence, following the dirt path that circled around the small lake on the estate and Elsie thought it was very beautiful, especially this early in the morning. But next to her, the prince was silent, and she was not sure she was allowed to start a conversation. They had been taught not to speak to him unless spoken to, and she had already broken that rule twice since they had departed from the stables.

So, Elsie decided she would break the rules again and see if she could at least have a decent and civilized conversation with him and not only one-word replies for the man. "My lord?"

"Hmm?" Prince James turned his head towards her. At least she did not have to call him more than once; that would have been quite uncomfortable.

"Do ye often ride in the morning, like this?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Why? What is it that ye like about it?" She did not wish to sound rude; quite the contrary. It was curiosity that propelled her to ask this question, in fact. She could clearly tell that his heart was not into the Selection – neither was hers – and she wanted to understand why, other than the fact that he missed his late wife, of course.

"I like the silence," he said. "I like that I can be alone and think." He paused. "I do beg your pardon for saying that, Lady MacGregor. It is not that I wish you were not here, it is simply why I like doing this alone, usually." He frowned and shook his head, looking ahead of him. of course, she had caught him unawares with that question and he was now rambling.

"It is quite alright, sir," she said. "No apologies needed." She offered him a small smile. "I do like riding alone myself, but ever since my Da passed, my Ma does not like me to ride anymore."

"Why ever not?" James asked, slowing his horse so they could be riding side by side and he would not have to look behind him all the time and have a stiff neck by the time they came back to the Pavilion.

"She does not think it is proper for a lady," she explained. "That is why, when Lord Windsor asked what I would like to do with ye, sir, this was the first thing that came to mind. I miss riding so much."

A small smile curled his lips and she took that as a win. "Well, Lady MacGregor, you may ride as much as you want as long as you are a guest of the Pavilion," he said. "And you may take Molly whenever you wish."

"Why, thank ye, sir, it is very kind of ye." She forced a blush into her cheeks and looked up at him from under her long lashes. "How shall I ever repay you, my lord?"

"No need," he said. "And if you ever need an escort on one of your riding outings, simply ask and you shall have someone with you."

"Yerself, my lord?" she asked, straightening her shoulders and popping her bosom out a bit more, making sure that he would look at her. She had come to seduce him, and seduce him she shall.

James' eyes went down to her bosom, of course, but then he quickly looked ahead of him, as if he had been stung by a bee. "Perhaps, if I have nothing else to do," he replied. They continued on in silence and she noticed how James' eyes were focused ahead of him. After a while, his shoulders seemed to relax and they chatted about Scotland and Brighton, the similarities and differences until the path lead them back to the stables where two grooms took their horses inside and they went to their chambers to clean up and freshen up before breakfast with everyone else.

/ / /

Later that same afternoon after a copious luncheon made of at least thirty-five different dishes, Henry decided they should all go outside for some much-needed digestive activities; but not activities too hard on the breath, mind you. With the help of a couple of footmen, he laid out a game of croquet on the lawn while other servants put up a tent-like patio for spectators. Maids brought out some cold beverages and more desserts and everything was ready.

"Alright!" he said, addressing the ladies already outside. "Who would like to play a game of croquet with your humble servant?"

"Me," the Dowager Countess of Haily, Lady Frederika Vaughan, said. "I have not played in ages, but I used to be quite good." She stepped towards Henry who offered her the brightest smile.

"Ah, I am glad to hear that, Lady Vaughan."

"I would like to play as well," Miss Rowena Talbot said. "I, too, used to be rather good at this sport."

"Excellent!" Henry said. "We shall see come competitiveness, then!"

Some other ladies preferred to take the seats in the shade, near the beverages and cakes, refusing to partake in the game but rather supporting and encouraging anyone playing.

"Oh! Croquet!" Miss Cerys Tudor said as she joined the people outside, still very much dressed in trousers. "Is there still a spot available for me?"

"Why, of course!" Henry said. He counted the remaining mallets. "Ah, I believe we are in need of three more players," he mused. Another group of women was coming their way from the Pavilion, and he offered them to play with the group if they so wished.

"I am not sure I know the rules, but I am a fast learner and willing to play," Lady Aislin Godfrey from Ireland offered tentatively.

"Fear not, Lady Godfrey," Henry said, offering her the choice of one of the last mallets. "We shall be going over the rules together before we start playing."

"Thank you," she replied.

Lady Dorothea Herbert also joined the group of players, to Henry's delight, but they were still short of one player, and none of the remaining ladies wished to join them, preferring other activities. Then, James finally decided to join everyone outside with Valery at his side who seemed to be feeling slightly better. He escorted her to the shade next to Lady MacGregor and made sure a maid gave her a glass of lemonade and a piece of lemon cake.

"James, my dear friend," Henry said once he was done and seemed to be making his way in the opposite direction. "We are short of one player; will you not join us so we can all play?" he asked. James stopped and turned around, though Henry could see he was trying to find an excuse to get out of the game as quickly as possible. "I am sure the ladies here would be delighted to play against you. I hear Lady Vaughan and Miss Talbot are quite good players…" he trailed off.

James sighed. "Fine," he said, walking over to the group. Henry knew that a promise of a good game with some competition and worthy opponents would be the argument to win the prince over. How many games of croquet had they played together, over the years? Too many to count. He offered the last mallet to the prince with an apologetic smile.

Around James, the ladies playing pinched their lips so as not to giggle, for the last remaining mallet was pink. Henry knew James usually liked to play with the black one that he always considered to be his Lucky Mallet – others called it the Mallet of Death – but alas, Lady Frederika Vaughan had already taken it. James hesitated but still took it. Henry then distributed the matching ball to each mallet and he made sure to let everyone know the rules before they could start the game.

"The goal is to push your ball through every door and finish first," he said. "But if you wish to use a shot to hit an opponent's ball away from the game, then you may as well. Any questions?"

The rules being quite clear to everyone, there were no questions, and they drew lots to know who would be the first to play; the first shot was claimed by Lady Aislin Godfrey with the yellow ball and mallet. Her first shot was average, barely hitting the ball hard enough through the first door, making it stop just inside. The next one to play was Dorothea, and she hit Aislin's ball out of the way, placing hers right through the first door. Cerys' game was quite good but not as good as the last two ladies playing

Rowena and Frederika turned out to be excellent players and their competitiveness caught James in the game as well. The prince with his pink ball and mallet was actually very good, and the three of them practically played against each other only, ignoring the rest of the people playing with them, leaving them to their own game.

"I cannot believe I am being bested by a pink mallet!" Frederika said.

James snorted. "I cannot believe I am fighting for the first place with two ladies," he replied. "Then again, you have the Mallet of Death. Of course, your game is good."

"Oh, because you think my game is good because of the Mallet?" she retorted with a smirk.

"Yes, absolutely." James decided to use one of his shots to hit her ball far away from the game, earning him a scoff from the lady in question.

Henry and the others laughed, but then looked at Miss Rowena Talbot to see what she was going to do with her shot: send the prince's ball in the same direction as the pianist, send it in the opposite direction, or use her shot to advance her ball to the next door. Rowena herself seemed to debate with herself on what to do. If she sent the ball where Frederika's ball was, that would give them time alone – unchaperoned – together; if she sent it in the opposite direction, that would leave the game open for her and the others; and finally, if she advanced her ball, she may win and keep the prince nearby. The dilemma was rather strong.

"Miss Talbot," Henry said. "What is it going to be, then?"

The competitiveness in her won her personal argument and she decided to advance her own ball to the next door. Besides, after that one, she only had two more to go. Frederika was a good sport about it and went to retrieve her ball that had fallen in the bushes, using each shot she had to hit her ball closer. With that strategy, she finished the game in fourth place. The winner was Miss Talbot, followed by the prince, Henry, Frederika, Dorothea, Cerys, and finally Aislin.

The supportive women in the shade with the lemonade and cakes cheered and congratulated Miss Talbot by offering her a glass of lemonade.

Henry took a step toward his friend. "Did you let her win or did she really best you at your own game, Jamie?"

James raised an eyebrow. "You shall never know, Henry," he said before congratulating the winner himself. He accepted a piece of lemon cake from Miss Jemima Delaney and the rest of the afternoon was spent eating and drinking and practicing croquet shots.

/ / /

Brighton, England; July 12th, 1815.

Knowing that he would have a busy evening with one of the ladies, James took the day to himself, going to the cliffs by horseback and enjoying the view on his own. Of course, Captain Clinton was there with him.

"Sir," he said when then were riding back home.

"Yes, Captain?" James replied. He was surprised to hear the captain talking without being talked to first, so this must have been something important.

"Forgive me for interrupting your thoughts," he started, "but I simply wanted to let you know that I do not answer to Sir Henry Windsor."

James frowned. "In what matter? I do not understand."

"He gathered all the redcoats at Brighton to–"

"Ah, yes," James said. "To make sure I do not escape."

"Yes," Clinton nodded. "But that is outrageous, and I am on your side. If you wish to escape, I shall help you in your endeavor."

James raised both eyebrows. "You would do that."

"Of course," Clinton said. "I can even help you hide a body if it comes to it."

At that, James burst out laughing. That was the longest conversation he had ever had with his captain in his ten years of service, but it was also the funniest, and proof that Clinton was loyal to him alone. "That is quite good to know, indeed," he said. "I shall keep that in mind." They rode in silence for the remainder of the journey back home and when the Pavilion was in sight, James said: "Though it could be quite funny to play a prank on Henry and make him think I have escaped when in fact I am right here, do you not think?"

Clinton chuckled silently, his only shaking shoulders a sign that he was laughing. "Indeed, sir. Simply say the word."

James then went directly to his room where his valet, Lawrence, was waiting for him with his evening clothes. But first, he needed to wash up after his day of riding and James stripped down before stepping into the bathtub. Footmen had spent the last half hour filling it up for him and while he was soaking in the warm water, Lawrence shaved his face. He simply could not show up at the Brighton Opera House in such disarray.

When he was ready, that his top hat was securely on his head, his boots shining, and his cravat straight, he went to the entrance hall to await his evening companion. She arrived only a few minutes later, coming down the grand staircase wearing a white evening gown trimmed with gold and long silk opera gloves. Her long black hair had been styled into an intricate updo with a pearl comb on the side decorating her tresses.

"Lady Davies," James said, bowing his head towards her. "You look beautiful tonight." It was the customary compliment to say even though he did not necessarily notice it.

"Thank you, Your Highness," Letitia Davies replied, curtsying to him. "You also look quite dashing, if I may say so as well."

James nodded once before inviting her outside where a freshly polished carriage with four white horses was waiting for them. He helped her inside, offering her his own gloved hand, and then climbed in after her. A footman closed the door and they were on their way to town.

"Have you already seen this show?" Lady Letitia Davies asked, breaking the silence.

"No, I do not believe I have," he replied. "But Lord Windsor said it was a show that one must see, so here we are."

Letitia scoffed lightly. "You do not like the opera, then?"

"Why would you believe that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You said it was a must-see, and you seem to do it out of duty," Letitia challenged him. "Are you not at least slightly happy to get out of the Pavilion and away from chaperones for one night?" She paused and then looked out of the window at the passing scenery. The sun was slowly going down, turning the sky pink and orange. "It is not as if you are enjoying yourself, anyway. Everything you do seems to be out of duty."

James swallowed hard and looked at the profile of the lady across from him. She was not wrong, but he was not going to admit that to her, especially on their first private outing. "I do not do everything out of duty," he said. "But life as a Royal Heir is made mainly of duties." They were silent for a while, and when they finally came to town and their carriage stopped in front of the Opera House, he said, just before stepping out: "And for your information, I do enjoy the opera. Doing things out of duty does not mean I do not like doing them." That said, he stepped out and held out his hand to help her out of the cabin.

If Letitia thought there were no chaperones with them that night, she was sorely mistaken, for Captain Clinton had been riding right next to the carriage, and he would be attending the show with them. But since the soldier knew the prince liked his privacy, he would not be an invasive chaperone.

"You have a rather peculiar way of enjoying things, Your Highness," Letitia said with a smile on her face.

James did not reply but escorted her wordlessly inside. They were shown to the Royal Box where they were offered Champagne. There was also a table laden with foods of all kinds, and James took off his hat for the evening.

"How long is the show?" Letitia asked, sipping on her champagne.

"Three hours, I believe," James said. "I hope you enjoy Greek tragedies, Lady Davies. La Vestale is set in Greece. And that you know some French?"

"A little," she said. "Enough to understand, I believe." She scooted over to him. "But if I do not understand, perhaps you will enlighten me?"

James hid the sigh that almost escaped his lips; he should have made sure the lady knew enough French to at least be able to follow the story. "La Vestale was written nine years ago, in 1807," he said. "It started in Paris, but now is all over Europe." He paused, looking at the small pamphlet they were given when they came in. "Apparently it is a love story between a virgin priestess of Vesta and Luciunus, a Roman General."

"Oh, interesting, indeed," Letitia said. Just then, the orchestra started on a victorious military march while the red curtains opened, revealing a victorious return to Rome of General Lucinius and his men, only for him to find that his beloved Julia had become a priestess of Vesta. James first listened to the songs and then attempted to translate their meanings for his companion. In the story going on on the stage, Julia attempted to avoid going to Lucinius' triumph, but she was delegated to present him with a wreath. He told her that he intended to kidnap and reclaim her.

"I hope she comes to her senses and goes with him," she whispered. "Why on earth would she become a virgin priestess if she was in love with him in the first place?"

"Perhaps she did not believe he would come back victorious," James replied. He looked through his small binoculars and then handed them to Letitia. "Look how devastated they both are."

Letitia looked through the small theatre instrument. "Indeed! Why would people do that to themselves, I do not understand."

James shrugged. "I believe love will make one do foolish things, unfortunately. Or the fear of love, or of being hurt."

Letitia looked at him while the second Act started below, on the stage. "You know something about that, then, Your Highness?" she asked.

"Perhaps," he replied, but he did not want to elaborate on that. They were silent for a moment, watching as Julia guarded the eternal flame, praying to be freed of temptation; but Lucinius arrived and during their rapturous reconciliation, the flame expired. After some songs about fleeing and interrogations, Julia was sentenced to death for recklessness.

"May I be bold and straightforward with you, Highness?" she asked, ignoring the show going on as the second Act closed, and the orchestra started on the transition to the third and last one.

James raised an eyebrow. "You may, Lady Davies."

Letitia nodded and took a deep breath before going on. "Highness, neither one of us, the Selected, are trying to replace your wife, and we can plainly see that you wish not to remarry." She paused, waiting to see if he was going to deny it all, but he did not. "I would like to offer myself as your wife," she said. "You do not have to love me, but I am certain that you and I can have a beneficial relationship based on friendship at least. I will be a good mother to the young Duchess, your daughter, and I am certain I can give you a son."

James almost laughed, but he refrained from it. He had not been expecting such a proposal on his third outing. "Thank you, Lady Davies, for your offer," he said. "I shall keep it in mind and think about it." He paused, sipping on his Champagne. "But I would like to meet each and every one of you before I make such a decision." That, and he really did not want to think about marriage already, even if simply a marriage of convenience. He had not seen Lady Davies interact with his daughter yet, and that was a rather important point in his decision.

They watched the third Act in silence as he thought about what she had said. The trip back home was also a rather silent one and he bid her good night as she thanked him for the wonderful evening, curtsying before taking her leave.


Hello again and thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed these dates and group activities! thank you so much for your reviews, I love them!

fun fact, I actually half-watched the opera (more like listened to it) while writing the scene and the beginning of the next chapter as well ;) it was interesting, but the staging I saw was too modern for my taste...

anyway! thanks again for reading, I can't wait to read your thoughts about it! I'll see you next time ;) byeee