Chapter 15: Pranks and Ghosts
Brighton, England; July 15th, 1815.
After two private outings that had not gone as well as had been expected, though James knew not all the moments would not be easy, he did not want to continue doing the Selection. If the ladies were going to lecture him on his fatherhood and other misgivings of his, he did not think it would be worth the trouble. After a private breakfast in his chambers with Eleanor who was silent as a tomb, he decided it was time to spend some time alone with his daughter.
"Eleanor," he said as she was silently leaving the room to go with her governess.
"Yes, father?" she turned around, hopeful.
"Would you like to come with me to the lake, behind the Pavilion?"
"Oh, yes!" she said. She quickly glanced at her governess who nodded. It hurt James to see that she sought out her governess' approval for an outing with her father, so he knew he needed to be a better father. It was not as if he had had a good example; his father had barely been present since he had stepped up on the throne quite early since his own father had died rather suddenly when James was but a wee babe.
"Come, then," he said, offering her his hand. She took it eagerly and her governess quickly gave her a bonnet before going outside. James thanked her and they left his chambers and headed outside. They walked side by side – he made sure she did not have to run after him on her small legs – and arrived at the lake. He was happy to see that no one was there. He sat in the grass and Eleanor did the same and they simply sat there, looking at the ducks and the swans on the water.
What was one to say to a small girl? How could he tell her she could have fun? How did a little girl have fun? He had not the slightest idea, but at least they were together, and that was the most important thing, right?
James noticed a small blue flower in the grass next to him and he smiled, knowing very well that Marianne would have plucked it and put it in her hair; and since she was not there to do it, it was his duty to take over for her. He plucked the small flower and handed it to Ellie. "Here," he said. "Why do you not put it in your hair?"
Eleanor smiled and took the flower, inspecting it. "Can you do it for me, please?" she asked. James nodded and fastened it under the ribbon, securing it on her hat.
"There you go, dear," he said softly. Eleanor beamed and they stayed like that for a long moment, watching as the ducks dove unto the water to get some fish.
"Ah!" a familiar voice said, coming over. "You have no idea how much this makes me happy!"
James turned around to see Henry sitting down on Ellie's other side, grinning as he looked at James. "What does?"
"You spending time with Ellie! You know," he said, plucking a strand of grass, "she needs to spend more time with the ladies. You are looking for a mother for her, she needs to get to know them, and them her."
James took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I tried that yesterday," he said. "Lady MacLeod took Eleanor with her to meet me at the stables and we went to the beach together."
"And? How was it?" he asked, but the question was directed at the young girl.
"It was fun!" she smiled. "We gathered seashells and ran in the waves and I rode in front of father on the same horse and it was so beautiful and did you know that the sea has salty water?" she said in a single breath.
James was surprised to hear all that coming out of her, for she had never said more than a few words at a time with him, but she seemed quite comfortable with Henry. And she certainly had not experienced the outing the same way as he had, and for that he was grateful. He listened as Eleanor and Henry talked, content to sit there in silence.
/ / /
Later that afternoon, after going through the list of ladies and activities that Henry had planned, James wondered if spending time with the lady in question was a good idea. From what he remembered of their first meeting, he had been quite judgmental when seeing her outfit and had barely been able to focus on anything else. Had she accused him of being narrow-minded for judging her so? Probably. But now he would have to spend the afternoon with her, and next to her name was simply written 'The Lady wants to do something fun.'
James sighed. He did not know what was fun anymore. Had it been Marianne, their idea of fun was a gallop through the dancing grass over the cliffs, of going swimming in the waves, away from prying eyes. If the weather did not permit such activities, they would simply stay inside and she would play the pianoforte while he drew. Or they would end up in their bed. But that was out of the question, of course.
So maybe the Lady had an idea of what something fun was, so he went in search of Miss Cerys Tudor, the Lady in Trousers. He asked a maid he walked by if she knew where the young woman was, and thankfully, she was able to direct him to the gardens. She was sitting on the patio, a foot tucked under her and her nose buried in a book.
"Miss Tudor," James said after clearing his voice to make himself known without startling her.
"Your Highness!" she said, quickly getting up from her seat and bowing to the prince. "Is there anything I can do for you?" she asked. Her dark brown curls had been somewhat tamed with a dark brown ribbon and her outfit was following that color palette as well.
"As a matter of fact," he said, "you happen to be the next lady on my list for a private moment together, this afternoon."
"Oh!" she said.
"You seem surprised," James pointed out.
Cerys smiled and closed her book, putting it on her seat. "I am," she said. "You did not seem very happy about my outfit, the last time we spoke in private."
"No, I was not," he admitted. "But I have not said a word about it during the croquet game, have I?" He paused. "I shall continue to try to look past it. What are you reading, Miss Tudor?"
She picked up the book from the seat and handed it to him. "It is a book on sociology, sir."
"Sociology?" James asked. "I did not know women read that kind of literature." He paged through the book, but it was not one he had read himself.
"Yes," she replied rather slyly. "You will learn that women can do many things, these days. Like wearing trousers and reading sociology books."
He nodded and chuckled softly. "I am learning," he admitted. "Miss Tudor," he said, giving her the book back. "What do you consider something to be fun?"
She smiled and sat down when James invited her to do so, as he sat on the stone railing of the patio. "I would say something is fun when it means sneaking out or breaking the rules." She paused. "But you are the prince, and you must not break the rules, am I right?" Her Welsh accent was there only here and there, and James could easily forget she was not from England.
"Oh, Miss Tudor," he said. "You have no idea how many times I have broken the rules or done something that was not expected of the prince of England."
"Such as?" she asked, perking up.
James smiled at the memory. "Starting a snowball fight in Hyde Park, where a great many gentlepeople of the ton participated and had to be stopped by a small regiment of redcoats."
"No way!" she said. "I would have never thought that of you, Your Highness."
"Yes, well…" he trailed off. "I used to be a rather fun person to be around, once upon a time."
Cerys offered him a gentle smile, knowing that grief and loss would change a person so, but did not comment on it. So many people must already tell him that. "Well, then," she said. "If breaking the rules is something you are quite familiar with, maybe we could do it again together?"
James nodded. "There is something I wish to do," he said, the wheels spinning in his mind. "It is more of a prank on my dear friend Henry, but it could maybe be considered as fun if you really try to."
Miss Tudor laughed. "Do tell me," she said, her eyes lighting up with mischievous sparks.
"Well," James started, "it is no secret that I did not want to do this Selection in the first place."
"Wait, really?" she said sarcastically. "I had no idea."
James snorted. "Anyway. I asked Henry to organize it so that I would not have to bear with whoever my father would have chosen for it, and now he has put it in his mind to make sure that a whole regiment of redcoats ran after me if I so much as put a foot out of the Pavilion in an attempt to flee." He paused when Cerys laughed at the notion. "Which is not funny at all, Miss Tudor. I am a prisoner here."
"So, what would you want to do, then?" she asked, trying to stop laughing.
"I would like to make him believe I left."
Cerys smirked and stood from her seat. "That sounds rather fun," she said. "How would you like to proceed? Where would we go?"
James looked around, making sure that if there was someone there, they would not hear him. "We take Eleanor with us, ask the kitchen for a light packable dinner and ride to a place I know Henry would not think to find us. And we come back after dark."
"Yes," she said. "I am utterly in. Should we pack a bag to make sure it is more believable?"
A small smile spread on the prince's lips and he nodded. "Excellent idea," he said. "I shall meet you in half an hour at the stables. Pack a coat as well."
Cerys nodded and they parted ways to prepare to leave. James first went to look for Lawrence, his valet, and asked him to go down to the kitchens and ask for that packable dinner he had mentioned. Then, he asked to have Eleanor sent to his chambers at once so he could tell her they were going for a picnic at the beach with one of the ladies, which she found was a delightful idea. There was no use in explaining to her the real reason behind it, for she would not understand. In the last ten minutes he had before meeting with Cerys Tudor at the stables, he packed a bag with coats for him and his daughter, as well as some random clothes to confuse Henry if he came looking into his chambers.
"Come on, Eleanor," James said. "Miss Tudor will be waiting for us."
"Are we riding again?" she asked.
"Yes, dear." He grabbed her little hand in his and they arrived at the stables at the same time as their companion, and Lawrence also arrived with a picnic in a leather bag that he attached to the black stallion's saddle. The horses had also been prepared in advance and they both rode off, making sure no one was following them. They made good time by trotting at a good speed, but once they were out of view of the Pavilion and safely far enough, they slowed down and let their horses walk at their own pace.
"Where exactly are we going?" Cerys asked. "And how do you know his Lordship will not be looking there?"
"It is a small beach at the foot of the cliffs," James replied. "And I will explain later why." He motioned quickly with his chin at his daughter, not wanting her to know too much about their outing.
Cerys nodded and they rode on West, following the coastline to the cliffs. Cerys chatted with the young Duchess and time seemed to fly by rather quickly. At some point, James directed his horse to the left, leaving the path behind, and Cerys followed him without a word.
James had not set foot on this rocky beach in four years, and all the memories came flooding in. He tried not to make them turn back and abandon their idea, but he thought that an afternoon and an evening off would do him good. He laid out a blanket on the ground and sat down on one side while Cerys sat on the other side with Ellie in the middle. They were all silent for a while, simply watching the waves crashing softly on the rocky beach.
"May I go to the water's edge?" Eleanor asked.
"I will come with you," Cerys said. "If you do not mind, of course," she added to the prince, who simply nodded. Cerys stood and offered her hand to the little girl and they walked together to the water's edge. James could not hear what they were saying, but his daughter seemed to be quite happy with the young woman, chatting away as Cerys showed her nice rocks to gather. He heard Ellie's laugh as well, and it was a sound that he had not heard a great many times. It was melodious, clear as crystal water, and it made him want to join in as well. But he did not and stayed seated on the blanket instead.
After a while, the two ladies came back on the blanket and Cerys asked if there was something to drink in that packed dinner. James went in search of a beverage and took out a bottle of clear water and a bottle of wine. There were also three small glasses made of metal and he poured water for all of them. Ellie played a bit more on the beach, gathering seashells and rocks, and then sat down between the two adults, entirely wound down by all the unusual and unexpected excitement of the day.
"Here," Cerys said softly. "You may lay your head down on my lap, if you wish, Eleanor." The little girl did not have to be asked twice and she laid down, her blond hair spread out on the young woman's thigh. Cerys gently brushed her hair with her fingers and in a matter of moments was sound asleep. James took the coat he had packed and covered her small body, protecting it against the beach wind. He watched the two ladies, thinking how motherly Cerys was, despite her trousers and sociology books.
"So, tell me," Miss Tudor said softly so as to not wake the little girl. "Why do you think Lord Windsor will not come looking for you here?"
James sighed, hoping she had forgotten about that. "Because I used to come here all the time when Marianne was alive," he explained, "and I have not set foot here since. He knows I would not come back here."
"Then why are we here, then?"
"Because I do not wish him to find me, and it was the only place I could think of."
They were silent for a moment, and Cerys continued to brush the little girl's hair. "You loved her, did you not?" she asked softly.
"More than life itself," he surprised himself by answering that at all.
Cerys nodded. "That is why you only live a half-life," she stated, as it was not a question. James looked at her, a questioning eyebrow raised. "There is talk among the ladies," Miss Tudor explained, "of what we have seen or experienced in these past couple of weeks living under the same roof as you." A seagull shrieked above them in the sky. "You seem to do things out of duty and to simply survive one day at a time. In a very short summary."
James snorted. "That could not be closer to the truth, to be honest." And why he was actually admitting this to her was beyond him. Why was he talking at all? But Miss Tudor's presence was soothing, and he felt comfortable around her for some reason. "And it is no secret that I did not wish to do this Selection. So yes, I try to survive one day at a time."
"You know," she continued, her voice still low, "most of the ladies are afraid to trigger a memory of your late wife and to see you hurt and to suddenly close off the world."
The prince did not reply right away, watching the waves come and go on the beach for a few silent minutes. "Everything here reminds me of Marianne," he said. "The Pavilion, the beach, the town, the food– everything."
"Then why do the Selection here?" she asked, confused. "Why not a country Estate somewhere in England?"
James looked at her with a small smile. "Because I love the sea much more than the countryside, Miss Tudor. Here," he explained, "there is everything you need: the Pavilion ground covers a thousand acres with forests, fields, a lake, and many promenade paths. The town offers all the entertainment you need, such as the theatre, the opera, a gaming room, a gentleman's club, hotels, and all kinds of shops. And if you need to feel free and alone in the world, there is the sea and the cliffs." He paused. "A country Estate would not offer all of that."
"I see," she simply said. Again, a comfortable silence enveloped them, where only the waves and the wind filling in, as well as the birds in the sky. They stayed like this for a long while, each alone with their own thoughts. The sun was still high on the horizon when Eleanor woke up from her nap, yawning and stretching.
"I am hungry," she said softly, sitting up.
"Ah, yes," James yes. "I suppose it is time for our picnic, then." He offered her a wobbly smile before taking out the food from the bag and laying it out on the blanket. They ate in companionable chatter until the sun was low on the sea, seeming to sink in it. James knew that they should be heading home before it was too dark, but he wanted to make this moment last a bit longer: time had seemed to stop altogether.
When they almost could not see anything anymore, James decided it was time to go and he placed Eleanor on his horse as he and Cerys lead the two animals by foot out of the rocks and onto the dirt path towards town, where they climbed on them and rode on. Before long, a regiment of redcoats arrived towards them, galloping.
"He is here!" one of them said. They circled the prince and the lady accompanying him and they both chuckled.
"It is quite alright, Eleanor," he said to the little girl who had suddenly become rigid in front of him. "Henry simply wanted to make sure we would make it home safely in the dark."
She relaxed and they rode in silence to the Pavilion, escorted by the redcoats.
"James Alexander Schreave!" Henry said when they arrived in front of the main entrance that was lit with many lamps. He did not seem to be happy at all. "Where in God's name were you?" he shouted. "We looked everywhere for you; I thought you had finally fled!"
"I am right here, Henry," James said calmly, though he had trouble suppressing the smile that was creeping in on his lips. Next to him, Cerys covered her mouth to prevent herself from laughing as well. "All is well, and we wish to go to bed now." He turned towards Cerys. "Thank you for a nice afternoon, Miss Tudor. Have a good night."
"You as well, your Highness," she said. "Good night, Ellie." She smiled at the little girl and slid down from the horse as a groom took the reins to lead it back to the stables. James did the same and carried Eleanor to the ground. He bid her goodnight and handed her over to her governess.
"James, a word?" Henry said, quite tense, as James was going back inside.
"What is it, Henry."
"What were you thinking!" he said. "And completely unchaperoned. James, I do not know what to do–"
"Why do you not relax, then?" James said. "I am trying my best to make the most of this dreadful situation, and I wish you would do the same. I am a widowed man; I do not need to be chaperoned."
"Perhaps you do not need it, but the ladies do if you do not wish to tarnish their reputations."
James sighed and closed his eyes. He took off his top hat and wiped his brow with his handkerchief. "I am tired, Henry, good night." With that, he walked away but then stopped and turned around. "But you do have to admit that it was quite funny," he said. "You really thought I had gone off? And with one of the Selected no less?" he snorted and walked away, ready to fall on his bed and sleep.
/ / /
Pavilion grounds, Brighton, England. Same evening.
While Henry was in a complete panic that James was nowhere to be found and had sent troops after him, Valery was actually enjoying some alone time near the lake. The water was completely still but for the occasional insect on the surface, and the sky was darkening by the minute. Stars were slowly starting to come out, and she loved that time of the day the most when everything seemed to change from dogs to wolves in the darkness. The only noises were the crickets in the grass, the breeze in the trees, and the crunch of gravel under someone's footsteps.
She turned around, wondering who could possibly come to disturb her at this time, especially since the ladies were all in their rooms, by order of Henry, until the prince was found again. Five of them had their turn with the bathtubs, so they were soaking in the warm water and the soap in their rooms.
The woman coming toward her was indistinguishable in the darkness, but all she could make out was that she was not wearing a hat. The swish of the dress was louder as she came closer.
"Good evening, Lady Windsor," a female Scottish accent said. "I noticed ye from my window, and I simply wanted to make sure ye were alright."
"I am, thank you, Lady MacGregor," she replied, recognizing the voice, though now she could also see her features. The deep dimple in her chin was most adorable and the softness of her face quite attractive. Valery quickly pushed those thoughts away. There was only one woman in her heart, and that was Mari, even though she was gone. And that it was wrong and had been all along. She had tried to suppress those feelings for so long but she had not been able to.
"Is it true that the prince is nowhere to be found, then?" Elsie asked, standing next to her.
"What did Henry say?" she asked because she did not want to overstep what her brother was doing or saying during the Selection.
"Oh, he simply said that we should all retire to our rooms for the night, but I heard two maids talking."
"I see," Valery replied. "Well, I personally do not know where he is, but he must be on a private outing with a lady." In fact, Miss Cerys Tudor was also missing, so they must have been together. And so was Eleanor, so she must have been with them as well.
They were both silent for a while, listening to the night settling in around them. It was rude not to at least do some small talk, so Valery asked a quite uncomplicated question: "How are you finding the Selection?"
"Alright, I suppose," Elsie replied. "My outing with the prince was nice, if only a bit too early in the day."
Valery laughed softly. "Ah, yes, His Royal Highness' morning ride." She smiled and pushed a curly strand of hair behind her ear that had fallen out of her hairdo due to the breeze. "The prince does not sleep much even though he wishes he could sleep more."
"Has it always been this way?" the Scottish lady asked. "Or only since his wife passed away?"
"Only ever since she died," Valery said softly, melancholy coming into her voice. "We have all changed in some way; she was such an angel in our lives, bringing joy and happiness to whoever she met. Well, most people, anyway."
"Ye seem to have been rather close to the Princess," Elsie remarked. "A dear friend?"
"My best friend," Valery said. "I loved Marianne so much I thought I would die the day she died." She paused. "I still want to," she added almost as a whisper.
Elsie took her hand in hers and held it tightly. "Ye must not say such things, Lady Windsor," she said in earnest. "I am certain ye will be able to move forward… and maybe find someone else to be, er, close friends with."
Valery looked at Elsie with a sad smile. "Thank you for saying so, Lady McGregor." She gently pulled her hand away. "But I doubt it." The night had completely settled around them and now Valery could not see the other lady's features anymore, though she could still feel her quite close by and smell her perfume of violets; it was making her feel uncomfortable and she quietly excused herself before leaving, her heart pounding in her chest as she made her way to her bed chambers. By the time she had closed the door behind her, her heartbeat had calmed down quite a bit and she quickly undressed to get ready for bed. Before slipping on her nightgown, though, she washed with the washbasin and the pitcher and then slipped into bed.
Thoughts of Marianne would not leave her mind, as she went over her favorite memories of her. She knew it was wrong to think about a woman in such a way, and she had tried to suppress those feelings for so long, but once she had made peace with herself about it, it was all that simpler. With her eyes closed and images of beautiful Mari behind her eyelids, she slowly lifted her nightgown and reached down with her fingers, sighing with satisfaction.
/ / /
Pavilion, Brighton, England; July 16th, 1815.
The one thing James wanted more above anything else was a day off. Or even better, a whole week off from the Selection. It was no secret among the ladies anymore that he did not want to do any of this and he was not hiding it either. Henry even told him that he seemed to be opening up more to the ladies and starting to care about them, but James denied it all. How could he? His heart was absolutely not in the Selection, anyway.
And that had been before his prank on Henry, and now the man was not talking to him; he had not even looked at him or addressed him a single word during breakfast, deciding to sit at the opposite end of the table and talk with some of the ladies instead.
Half of James felt bad for his friend: he had been the one to ask him to oversee the event in the first place, and yet, he was making it difficult for him. And that was without even thinking about those seventeen letters that were sent back to London. James wondered if some would come. There was a chance, of course, that none came to his aid and that his whole plan went awry because of it. But he hoped and prayed that a least a few of his friends would hear his plea and come to help him.
There was nothing he could do about it now except for waiting, and so he needed to get on with his list of outings and activities. And the next one on his list was a lady from Ireland. He did not want to waste his time looking for the lady in question all over the Pavilion estate so he sent her a word through his valet who would ask a maid to deliver the paper.
Lady Godfrey, please meet me and my daughter at the main entrance; A carriage will be waiting to take us into town. HRH Prince James.
A few moments later, James was waiting with Eleanor at the bottom of the grand stone staircase for the lady to come. They did not have to wait a long time, thankfully, for Lady Aislin Godfrey arrived promptly, dressed in a plain pale-yellow dress that made her red hair stand out nicely. To embellish her outfit, though, she had chosen an elaborate necklace made of silver and rubies, with matching earrings. James wondered if the jewelry was hers or lent for the duration of her stay in Brighton. She was also carrying a white parasol for promenading in the sun.
"Good afternoon, Lady Godfrey," James said, bowing his head to her.
"Your Highness," she greeted with a perfect curtsy. "Thank you for having me this afternoon, sir."
"A pleasure," he said automatically. He first helped Eleanor into the carriage before giving Aislin a hand to get in. He then climbed in and let the footman close the door behind him, sitting next to his daughter. There was no chaperone inside the carriage with them, but Clinton was riding next to them on his horse.
The ride into town was not a long one, and soon enough they had reached the main street, where the vehicle stopped. The coachman opened the door for them, and James got out first before helping the two ladies out. It was a beautiful day if a little bit hot for his taste, but it would have to do. He invited her with a motion of his hand to join him on the promenade path at the forefront of the town with the large beach and the sea on their left, and Aislin obliged, nodding and smiling. She popped open the parasol and they walked slowly in silence with Ellie in between them.
Next to James, Aislin seemed to be a little anxious, always looking over her shoulder for some reason.
"Is there a problem, Lady Godfrey?" he asked, curious.
She offered him a tight smile. As the youngest in the Selection at only twenty years old, she had to show that she was just as fine as the other older ladies. "No sir," she replied. "I was simply wondering why there were three redcoats tailing us."
"Ah, that," James said, suppressing a smile. "I believe Lord Windsor wanted to make sure we were properly chaperoned." That, and he did not seem to trust Clinton alone to chaperone and keep James in Brighton.
"But three?" she asked, looking over her shoulder again. "Is that not a little bit excessive?"
"My father pretended to leave," Ellie explained, "and uncle Henry was not very happy about it. Is that not right, father?" she asked, looking up at him with her large blue eyes.
"Yes, indeed, that is correct, Eleanor." He took the little girl's hand in his and they continued walking.
Aislin laughed softly. "I can imagine he was not very happy about it."
"He does not wish to speak to me anymore," James said. "I hope he will forgive me one day."
"I am certain he will, Your Highness," Aislin replied. "I have come to understand that his Lordship is quite the joyful man and prankster himself, no?"
"He is." He paused, nodding to passersby who recognized him. "But this might have been a little too big for his taste. Anyway, Lady Godfrey," he said, changing the subject. "I hope you like cake?"
"Oh yes, sir!" she said. "My fondness for sweet foods is unmatchable."
"Excellent." He invited her to follow him to a small terrace on the street where cute little white chairs and tables were set out with pink tabletops and vases with pink wildflowers in them. He held out the chairs for the lady and for his daughter and then sat down himself. A waiter dressed all in black came out and took their orders.
"I would like a slice of cheesecake, please," Lady Godfrey said.
"Same for me," the prince added. "With three cups of tea as well. Do you happen to have any ice cream?"
"Of course, Your Highness," the waiter said. "We have apricot, strawberry, and lemon."
"Eleanor, what would you like?"
Ellie's eyes grew so big and full of hope all of a sudden. "Strawberry, please," she said, quite in shock. The waiter nodded and came back a few minutes later with the tree dishes and the tea. While Aislin and James happily started on their cake, Eleanor simply stared at her pale orange ice cream in a crystal bowl, unmoving.
"Eleanor, dear," James said softly. "Why are you not eating your ice cream?"
"Miss Hawkins never lets me have ice cream," she said softly as if her governess would hear it, as if eating ice cream was blasphemy in itself.
James frowned and decided to have a good chat with the woman. He had been absent for the past four years, but he was starting to realize that it was time he took the reins in educating his daughter. "With me, you can eat all the desserts you want, Eleanor," he said. "Does Henry never let you eat ice cream as well?" he asked, dumbfounded. Henry was very fond of all things sweet, too.
"No, only cake."
He encouraged her to eat her treat before it melted in the summer heat and his heart slightly melted at the sight of his daughter trying ice cream for the first time. He did not notice Lady Godfrey watching him with a fond smile on her face, happy to see him warming up to the little girl. They talked with Eleanor about this and that, and overall, James felt he was spending a great afternoon with Lady Godfrey, unwinding a bit from the tornado that seemed to be the Selection, turning his life upside down for the most part.
When they finished their dessert, they walked back to the carriage and drove home, where he genuinely thanked her for the delightful afternoon and company. But even after such a wonderful time, James refused to see that he was slowly warming up to the ladies and the whole idea of it. He was still waiting desperately for his friends and acquaintances to come, after which he would be free of most of the ladies if enough came to his aid.
/ / /
James' Bedchamber, Pavilion, Brighton, England; July 16th, 1815.
It was a full moon out, and James could not sleep. He had been tossing and turning for hours, unable to rest in the slightest. He could not light a candle for fear of attracting mosquitoes and other unwanted insects, so drawing was out of the question. And the light from the moon was not strong enough to sketch.
A little before midnight, he decided to get up to stretch his legs and maybe wear his body out so he could eventually find some sleep. He sat up and pulled on his linen shirt over his head and let it fall on his shoulders as it covered his torso and groin, falling almost mid-thighs. He walked to the other side of the room to retrieve his trousers from the valet stand and pulled them on in the dark with only the dim silver light from the night sky.
That was when he saw her through the window; with her long blond hair down her back and her nightgown reflecting the moonlight, she was walking barefoot in the grass. Marianne! It could not be anyone else, could it? She had come back for him! Or was it only her ghost? It did not matter but he had to be sure. He quickly slipped on his boots and headed outside in the direction where he had seen her last, near the lake.
His steps were as stealthy as possible – could one scare a ghost? – as he neared the lake. Electricity flowed through his veins as his heart beat much faster than usual. He did not even try to calm down for he was completely wired up, having abandoned all notion of sleep for the rest of the night.
"Mari?" he whispered in the night. She was there, standing at the water's edge, her hair flowing lightly in the breeze. Where ghosts touched by outside weather, he wondered, but the thought quickly flitted away.
"Yer Highness!" the woman said, turning around with eyes wide with fear. "Ye gave me quite the fright!"
"Oh, er, I apologize, Lady MacLeod," he said, trying not to let his disappointment drip into his voice. "I thought you were… someone else." He almost said something else, but were ghosts made of matter? Probably not.
A kind smile spread on Beitris' face, the features contrasting in the light of the moon and the shadows of the night. "I am not who you thought I was," she stated.
"Correct," James replied, holding his hands behind his back. neither one of them was decently dressed and he tried not to stare at her. "I thought you were–"
"A ghost?" she offered. "Ye did say ye believed in them."
"I did." He cleared his throat and bowed his head. "Good night, Lady MacLeod." And without waiting for her reply, he turned around and started to leave.
"I owe ye an apology, sire," she said.
"What for?" James turned around, curious.
Beitris pushed some hair behind her shoulder. "The other day," she said, "when we went to the beach. We did not end our time together in a good light." James nodded at that. "I wish to apologize for what I said to ye– no, what I said still stands, but it is how I said it."
Again, James nodded. "Thank you. Apology accepted." He paused, looking at the reflection of the moon on the lake as if it had been broken into a million pieces and spread out onto the like as thousands of floating diamonds. "You were not entirely wrong," he finally said. "And I do realize that I have been quite absent in my daughter's life. And it will change."
Beitris let out a sigh. "Thank God for that." She smiled and looked at the moon. "Was she beautiful?" she asked softly, matching the light breeze of the night.
"Yes," James replied, knowing exactly who she was talking about. "Very much so." He also looked at the moon and then smiled, knowing that she was watching from wherever she was. "Good night, Lady MacLeod."
"Good night, sir."
And with that, he was on his way to his chambers, his heart lighter than before and his mind refreshed from the night air. He undressed and slipped under his covers, falling asleep quite fast.
Hiii! yeah sorry that was super long, I hope the chapters won't become longer and longer, but I can't promise anything at his point. when I started writing, I told myself I would write 1-2k chapters. woops. (and I'm already 1,5k away from totaling 50k on the story!)
anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading the dates and the little impromptu moments! thanks for all your reviews they mean the world to me.
Also, Sylëa wrote the 100th review, she will get a small cameo in the next chapter! hehehe. keep an eye out for it.
thanks again for reading and reviewing! see you next time! byeee
