Chapter Seven

Selina

G eorge turned his back on me! And after kissing me on the Crescent Fields so gloriously. He is a rake, for sure. He has used me!

Hot tears poured down Selina's face as she climbed back into the empty servants' bedroom she used as an exit onto the roof of Number 1.

Wait! She was being ridiculous. There were many other reasons why George might not have returned her greeting. He might be a little short sighted—although he had never mentioned it. Perchance he was too shy to say? For he seemed reluctant to talk about himself much. His father wore spectacles. Perhaps short sight could be inherited? For one could inherit all manner of things from one's parents. Fine green eyes, silky blonde hair...

Besides, having read George's speech earlier on first retiring to her room, she could scarcely believe that a man capable of writing such fine sentiments could also be a rake.

On her way to her chamber, Selina saw a small figure at the top of the servants' stairs.

"Martha! What are you doing up so late?"

"I cannot sleep," Martha said, "and besides, I have something to tell you."

"What is it?"

"I do not know if I should speak—except you did once say you would be pleased if I passed on anything of interest I discovered while working in your father's house."

"I always like to know what is going on," Selina said. "Please, Martha. Don't be shy. Just tell me. I promise I will not be angry—whatever it is. Would you like to come to my room for a few minutes? Would that make it easier?"

Martha nodded, and Selina took her by the hand to her own chamber, opening the door very carefully so as not to disturb her mama in her room nearby. Lady Templeton was an annoyingly light sleeper.

"Now, what is it?" Selina said. "What has upset you so?"

"I was downstairs in the entrance hall," Martha said. "Sometimes I prowl around the house at night when I cannot sleep. Anyway, I overheard something said in the dining room. I was not exactly listening to the conversation, but one portion came through loud and clear when I was near the, er, the..."

"Keyhole?" Selina suggested.

"Yes," Martha said. "I was near the keyhole."

Selina chuckled. "Don't worry, Martha, I spent a large part of my childhood in this house listening at that keyhole, and many other keyholes too. No one would tell me anything, and I was determined to take matters into my hands and find out things myself. If people are not keeping you informed, it is never wrong to listen at keyholes."

"If you say so, Miss Templeton," Martha said.

The poor mite looks relieved—and I am all agog to learn what was said after the ladies had withdrawn from the dining room.

"Now then," Selina said. "Tell me precisely what it was that you heard. Try to be exact."

"'Twas about you. Something Mr. Fitzgerald said."

How marvellous! Martha is about to reveal another part of the puzzle. Did George confide in either Henry or Carter of his feelings for me? Or did Papa ask him what his intentions were?

"Mr. Fitzgerald said you and he were friends," Martha said.

"That is true," Selina said, smiling.

"He also totally denied there was anything else between you. And said he did not have any feelings."

"Are you quite sure?"

"Yes," Martha said, "for Mr. Fitzgerald spoke very loudly."

"Anything else?" Selina croaked.

"He said the rumors of a romantic attachment between you were entirely—and completely—false."

"Did Mr. Fitzgerald say anything else after that? Did the others say anything?"

"Nothing that I could hear," Martha said. "Shortly after that I heard steps across the room and thought someone was going to open the door, so I fled. Oh, Miss Templeton! I am sorry that I have upset you. I knew I should not have told you."

"You did exactly the right thing, Martha, and I thank you. You're not in any trouble, I do assure you. But now you must go. There are not many hours left before you have to get up again, my child. Hurry back to your bed—and thank you for having the courage to tell me the truth."

They say the truth hurts—but this truth will be better for me in the long run. 'Tis far better for me to know that George is a rake, rather than pin my hopes on him.

I was not sure whether he had seen me when he turned his back on me while I was on the rooftop—now, however, I know he did notice me and turned away deliberately to show his indifference.

He has made a declaration this evening—sadly, not the declaration my heart was hoping for, although 'twas a declaration, nevertheless—that he cares not for me and denies there is any romantic feeling between us. And he dared to utter this travesty after we had kissed so passionately under the yew tree but a few hours before! The man is a scoundrel.

The tears Selina had shed earlier on the parapet were nothing to the torrent of weeping that now overwhelmed her. She lay on her bed with her face pressed into the pillow, screaming into the feathery depths. Then she beat her blankets with clenched fists and thrashed the mattress with stiff legs, only stopping when her entire pillow was wet with tears.

Belatedly remembering about George's speech, Selina reached under her pillow and rescued the soggy sheets from their hiding place; she briefly thought about tearing his words to pieces and throwing the fragments into the fire, but changed her mind and laid the damp sheets to dry on the mantlepiece. She might be angry with the author, but she was still able to appreciate the reasoned arguments of a good piece of prose.

Then, tears spent, Selina lay on her bed, totally exhausted, staring up at the ceiling.

'Tis only now I fully realize how much I love George—now that I know for certain he does not want me. How cruel life can be.

By the time she got up the next day, Selina had resolved to accept her fate. She would never marry—because the only person she wanted to marry was George. Despite the fact that he was a rake and had turned his back on her, she still loved him and wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. She yearned for his touch. Oh, how she longed for him...

At least I know the truth now; George's intentions were not honorable.

In the middle of the night, Selina had briefly considered entering a nunnery, such was her dark distress—however, now she was up and about, she thought this would not be necessary. Instead, she would remain unmarried for the rest of her life—and she would never reveal to a living soul the tale of her tragic disappointment.

Selina had decided to devote herself to good works—like furthering the cause of women who strove to become Members of Parliament. Or perhaps she could reform the social structure of England? Selina wrinkled her nose. Mmm. These were hard, perhaps impossible, tasks. For now, she would carry on with her work helping the local children. In fact, she was due to take some of them for a walk on the Crescent Fields with Mrs. Godwin today. They were going to learn about nature, examining all the trees they could find and studying the shapes of different clouds.

Selina glanced out of the window. Ideal weather! There were plenty of clouds scudding about, many gray and threatening rain. She could not have borne it if today had dawned with clear skies and bright sunshine. A blustery March day with plenty of drizzle was exactly what her present mood demanded.

As she washed and dressed herself, her limbs felt heavy and her head woozy. Everything was such an effort! Her abigail came in to help her, but Selina snapped, "No need! I can manage perfectly well, thank you."

She was going to have to manage on her own for the rest of her life—therefore, she might as well start now.

Why is it that the hardest thing in life is to keep going and pretend that all is well—when in truth your heart is breaking?

Her hair decided to be difficult this morning, refusing to be coaxed into its usual style, and Selina burst into a fresh storm of weeping. There was a timid knock at the door, and the abigail put her head round.

"Are you sure I cannot help you, Miss Templeton?"

Selina gulped back her tears and gave a crooked smile. "I think I do need your help after all."

The abigail twisted Selina's locks around her fingers and deftly secured them with a ribbon. There! The job was done.

"You look very fine, Miss Templeton."

"Thank you," Selina said, "and I am sorry for my rudeness earlier."

The abigail looked at Selina in the mirror as she stood behind her, smiled, and then placed her hand on Selina's shoulder for a few seconds.

"Whatever the matter is, all will come right in the end," the abigail whispered. "Don't you worry."

"Thank you," Selina murmured.

There could not be a bigger contrast between Selina's life and that of the abigail. Selina was a wealthy young woman living in a beautiful house in one of the most elegant cities in England, surrounded by a loving and attentive family. She did not have to work to earn her living and could have any clothes she wanted. People treated her with civility wherever she went in polite society, greeting her as "Miss Templeton." Furthermore, she had access to a fine pianoforte, delicious meals were served to her every day, and she had an abigail to help her dress and do her hair. The poor abigail had no such luxuries and would have to work hard all her life.

And I do not even use her name but call her "the abigail." How ashamed I feel.

Selina walked down to the parlor to have her breakfast, full to the brim with a determination to be positive. For the first time in her life, she felt like a true grown-up. She would be grateful for what she had in life, instead of bemoaning the fact that she could not marry the man she wanted. In some ways she'd had a lucky escape, for George had shown himself to be fickle—and unprincipled.

Plenty of people are unlucky in love. I will learn to cope.

When Lady Templeton came and sat down at the table, Selina gave her a bright smile.

"Did you sleep well, my dear?" Lady Templeton said. "You look a little tired. Should you stay at home today?"

"'Tis nothing—a trick of the light, I assure you," Selina said. "I am well rested and fully resolved to get on with my work with the children today."

"Your papa is a trifle under the weather this morning," Lady Templeton said, "and will breakfast in his room. I believe he sat up with the other men 'til the early hours."

By midway through her breakfast, Selina's cheeks were aching from the effort of controlling the full, unrelenting smile she had plastered on her face. How tiring it was, pretending to be cheerful.

I feel like Mama's favorite clock on the mantelpiece—the one with the glass front. 'Twill be my fate for the rest of my life to go round with a sheet of glass between my inner thoughts and the rest of the world. I must present my best face, despite being trapped in unhappiness. Perchance the glass will shield me from further damage—as a carapace protects a crab. Although this barrier will prevent me from being able to love again, for my feelings are now buried so deep, they cannot be accessed.

Lady Templeton scrutinized Selina closely. "I am thinking of accompanying you when you go to the Crescent Fields this morning. I have a few errands to run but can easily put them aside for another day."

"There is no need," Selina said, "for I will be accompanied by Mrs. Godwin."

"Nevertheless," Lady Templeton said, "I will come with you. We cannot be too careful with the danger all around. Also, my dear, I think you did not sleep quite as well as you said, for you look a little pale. Are you sure you feel up to going out today?"

"Absolutely," Selina said. "I must get outside."

I long to feel the wind in my hair—although this will not be possible if Mama accompanies me, for she is never keen for me to remove my bonnet.

"I say, anything left for breakfast?" Edmund crashed through the door.

"Edmund!" Lady Templeton said. "How delightful to see you. Did you have a pleasant evening at your club?"

"Very fine, thank you, Mama," he said.

"And what are your plans for today?" Lady Templeton said.

"Nothing much. I might see my friends again later. And Papa wants to talk over some estate business this morning. He is planning to buy another house in the Crescent, I believe. I am not awfully keen to hear about estate matters, to tell the truth. Papa does go on so about every last detail."

"'Tis important for you to learn how to run the family estate, Edmund," Lady Templeton said. "After all, one day you will inherit."

Selina's fingernails raked the tablecloth.

Why is it always the eldest male who inherits? 'Tis so unfair on Henry, and of course on me. As a mere female, I would never be trusted with running an estate whether I was the youngest or oldest in the family.

"Mama thinks I need an extra person to chaperone me on the Crescent Fields," Selina said to Edmund. "Would you like to come with me while I take the children for a walk this morning?"

"Rather," Edmund said. "I am sure Papa will be able to tell me about the estate business some other time."

"Good," Selina said. "And that leaves you free to do your errands, Mama."

"Well, yes, I suppose that would be most acceptable, Edmund, if you could accompany your sister," Lady Templeton said. "Mind you keep an eye on her, though. There is the danger to consider. We have had some information from Signor Allegretto about Lord Steyne—and it is imperative that Selina is kept safe."

"I'm entirely trustworthy, as you know, Mama," Edmund said. "By the way, when you say the danger like that, it does sound frightfully exciting."

"Oh, Edmund! You are incorrigible," Lady Templeton said.

"What exactly is the danger , Mama?" Edmund asked.

"I am not entirely sure," Lady Templeton said. "I believe the men formulated some sort of plan late last night—Carter was here, and he is an expert on all things dangerous. Your father told me this morning that it is better to keep the information within a tight circle, by which I think he means only the men who were here yesterday—that is, your father, Henry, Mr. Fitzgerald, and Carter."

How unreasonable! After all, I was with George when Signor Allegretto told us all about Lord Steyne.

Edmund took a large bite of his toast and crunched noisily.

"When I eat like that, you reprimand me," Selina complained to Lady Templeton.

She gave an indulgent smile. "I am not minded to scold this morning. Edmund's presence at the breakfast table is very infrequent these days, and I do not wish to cast a cloud over the meal."

My mind is full of clouds, mostly very dark. And I fear they will stay there forever.

*

George

The same day, George skipped breakfast and decided to take Trigger for a gallop over the hills. He had gotten home very late the night before and not slept at all well.

I need to clear my head after all the excitement of yesterday.

George was finding it hard to come to terms with the fact that he must keep his distance from Selina. How was he ever going to put phase four of his plan to woo her into action? And what was phase four anyway? Phase three had been giving in to his impulse to kiss Selina under the tree. How beautiful that had been, how soft and tender her lips—how much he had wanted it to continue.

At the very top of Beechen Cliff, looking out over the city, George could see Selina's house at the end of the Royal Crescent, with the Crescent Fields in front—where only yesterday Selina had been in his arms. Trigger neighed and tossed his head.

"What's that, old boy?" George said to the horse. "Do you want to go there again? We have time, for Papa does not require my services until this afternoon on his visits."

George felt an urgent need to be in exactly the same place that he had been yesterday—safely hidden under the branches of the old yew tree. He must, of course, be conscious of the wall of ice Carter had said must spring up between him and Selina. This was the best way to protect Selina from Lord Steyne—although it was going to be hard. For what if George saw Selina on the Fields today? What then? Would he have to turn his back on her, as he had when she'd waved at him last night? Or could he risk a polite "hello?" George sighed. He would deal with this scenario if and when it occurred.

Very soon, George was traveling down Holloway with Trigger. A few acquaintances greeted him as he crossed the city, and he smiled without stopping. Occasionally, he looked warily behind himself to see if he was being followed—but thankfully saw no ruffians.

As he passed the Theatre Royal, George remembered that later that evening he had promised to accompany his mama to a play—there was a new production lately come down from London she was wild to see.

Hopefully the show will be a welcome distraction from thinking about Selina and the danger.

On George went until he reached the Crescent Fields. When he found the vast yew tree, he dismounted from Trigger and pushed through the curtain of branches, gently leading his horse.

"There, there, Trigger. You'll be fine. Head down! That's it. See! There's a big space inside, plenty of room for a man and a horse.

And plenty of room for a man to kiss the sweetest young woman in the world.

Trigger pawed at the ground and snorted.

"Yes, I know," George said. "You have had enough and would much rather be back on Beechen Cliff galloping around. However, indulge me for a moment. Let me have my memories—for I wish to be here for a few moments longer, here where I kissed my love for the very first time."

And if we never embrace again, I will have a beautiful memory to carry me through life to my grave. If I cannot marry Selina, I will resign myself to a single life, no matter how much my parents tell me it is my responsibility to wed.

However, I must endeavor to be positive. The wall of ice is there between Selina and me for a very good reason—but, in the end, ice melts, and hopefully, in the fullness of time, all will be well between us. I must be patient and trust that Carter will find Lord Steyne and defeat him.

Suddenly, George heard approaching voices and peeped through the branches. To his shock, he saw Edmund, Selina, a middle-aged lady he did not know, and a group of children approaching the very tree he was sheltering under.

"This is a yew tree," Selina said. "A very dense, fine, evergreen tree."

"It's massively tall," said one of the children.

"What does ‘evergreen' mean?" another asked.

"Evergreen," Selina said, "means that it does not lose its leaves in the autumn and have to wait until the spring for them to grow back again. Have a look around you, children. You can see that many other trees have bare branches and will not get their full cloak of leaves until the summer."

"The trees are frightening when they do not have their leaves," a child said.

"Yes!" another said. "They look like skeletons."

Trigger gave a soft whinny, and the children became very excited.

"There is something inside the yew tree!"

"Could be a dragon?"

"It sounds like a horse."

"I'm going in!"

"Me too!"

Very soon the group of ten children was right in the middle of the tree with George and Trigger.

"There's a man in here!"

"Who is he?"

"These leaves are weird—like needles."

What am I supposed to do now? What will Selina think of me, hiding away like a criminal? And I must remember I am not allowed to act in a friendly manner—I must think of the wall of ice.

"Come out at once, children," Selina said, "or I will have to come in and get you."

"Leave it to me, Selina," Edmund said as he flung himself through the branches into the middle of the tree.

"George!" he said. "Good Lord! What are you doing here? 'Tis a rum sort of place to be."

"I thought it might rain," George said, "for it did look cloudy, and Trigger does not like the rain."

"He is a horse," Edmund said, "and has no business either liking or disliking the weather. But George, 'tis very good to see you. And Trigger! Come outside and see Selina—she's with Mrs. Godwin, who is in charge of all these little ones." Edmund smiled and patted the heads of the nearest children. "Come on—everybody out. And try not to touch anything. You need to be careful with yew trees, for they are frightfully poisonous."

Selina was looking even more beautiful than ever, wearing a scarlet cloak, her bonnet clasped by her side and soft tendrils of hair escaping around her face.

"Mr. Fitzgerald," she hissed. "What on earth are you doing here? Er, I mean, allow me to present Mrs. Godwin. She runs the Sunday school at church, and I've been helping her take the children out on outings to broaden their education—and have some fun."

George nodded. "I believe you have mentioned your work with the children before. Good morning, Mrs. Godwin."

"Good morning, sir," Mrs. Godwin answered. "Miss Templeton has been invaluable in helping with the children. Now I have another pair of hands, we are able to give them all sorts of extra opportunities to study. There is so much to see at this time of year when spring is beginning its magic."

Selina was grimacing at George now—then she curled her lip and looked away. No doubt she had been told about the wall of ice that must be between them for her own protection.

George should act in the same manner. A deep furrow appeared between his brows—followed by a most unpleasant glare. No one passing by would think he had any interest whatsoever in Miss Selina Templeton.

I have to hand it to Selina; she is the consummate actress. From her demeanor, one would never guess that we are friends—or that we kissed so recently under this tree. She is pretending most convincingly that she finds my company both unwelcome and abhorrent.

"May I pat your horse?" one of the children said.

"Of course," George said. "His name is Trigger. Shall I lift you up? That's it. Ruffle his mane. He likes that."

"Might I sit on his back?" a boy asked.

"If Mrs. Godwin thinks that is all right, of course you may."

"A fine idea—thank you, Mr. Fitzgerald," Mrs. Godwin said. Then she turned to the boy and said, "Pass me your crutch, dear, for you will not need that to sit astride a horse."

The poor child has a bad leg—ah yes, I believe Selina mentioned him before, when we had tea in Hunter's. How wonderful it will be for him to be atop a horse and have another creature do the work of moving for him. I wonder what exactly is wrong with the leg—I shall have to ask my papa what I can do to help the child.

George lifted the little boy onto Trigger's back as gently as he could.

"Shall we walk once round the yew tree?" he asked the boy.

"Yes please, sir!" The boy looked so proud sitting on top of Trigger; the horse behaved impeccably, walking very slowly and carefully.

"Can you make Trigger gallop?" the little boy said.

"I fear that would not be ideal," George said. "Maybe when you have more skill and horse-riding technique? Now, would the other children like to sit on Trigger's back? I'm very happy to walk them a few steps around the Fields."

"Mr. Fitzgerald," Mrs. Godwin said, "we cannot put you to that trouble."

"'Tis no trouble, I assure you," George said. "'Twould be my pleasure."

The children took turns to ride around on Trigger. And throughout the whole procedure, Selina turned her back and stared at the houses of the Crescent, seemingly fascinated by a sight she saw every day of her life. Not once did she look at George or acknowledge his presence.

There were quite a few other people on the Fields. Selina was quite right to be standoffish in public, for who knew where the danger might come from? Any of the people out on the Fields could have been in the pay of Lord Steyne—and they might be looking for evidence of an attachment between George and Selina.

Once all the children had enjoyed a turn on Trigger's back, they swarmed round George and thanked him profusely.

"How many of you have ever ridden a horse before?" George said. "Put your hand up if you have."

Not one child put their hand up.

Poor creatures! They would benefit greatly from the chance to learn.

"You have given the children such a wonderful opportunity today, Mr. Fitzgerald," Mrs. Godwin said, "and I thank you. Do you not think, Miss Templeton, that Mr. Fitzgerald has been very kind to give the children their first riding lesson?"

"Most obliging, I'm sure," Selina said, "however we must be going—to the far side of the field, where the sheep are grazing. Goodbye, Mr. Fitzgerald."

"Thank you so much," Edmund said to George, shaking him by the hand. "We will see you soon, I hope. You must come round to Number 1 to visit. And now I think of it, Mama is having a musical soirée tomorrow, and I insist that you be our guest; I will have the invitation sent directly."

Selina coughed. "I believe Mama said there was no space for any more guests. The evening is already full."

"This is the first I've heard of it," Edmund said. "Many apologies, Mr. Fitzgerald. I will make sure you are added to the guest list of the next musical soirée at Number 1."

How I would love to attend a musical gathering at the Templetons'. Selina sings like an angel! But she is right, the wall of ice needs to melt first; Lord Steyne must be defeated before I am free to woo my love.

*

Selina

Selina was in a total daze as her small party walked away from George and Trigger.

Hopefully the children will not notice how distracted I am, for they are but young; however, in faith I will find it hard to concentrate on looking at budding leaves and twigs and nature burgeoning all around us when I have just had the shock of my life—seeing George again so soon.

Mrs. Godwin encouraged the children to inspect an interesting clump of grasses some way off, leaving Selina alone with Edmund for a few moments.

"I say, Selina," Edmund said, "I wish I'd known Mama had said no more guests for the musical evening. I feel like a prize chump for asking George, only to have you contradict me."

"If you were more oft at home," Selina said, "you would know what was going on. You scarcely show your face at Number 1 anymore, Edmund. Instead, you are always out with your friends at your club or who knows where."

"Do not sound so disapproving, sister dear," Edmund said. "I may do what I like with my own life, may I not?"

Selina sniffed. "True, because you are male. Think what it is like for us females."

"I know lots of women who do exactly what they want," Edmund said.

"You may think they are doing what they want," Selina said, "but it may not be true. Women cannot be so open."

"Give me an example," Edmund said.

"Society rules that a man may propose marriage to a woman, but a woman may not propose to a man. We have to wait and hope."

"'Twould be ridiculous for a woman to propose to a man," Edmund said. "Everyone knows that! And no man would respect a woman who behaved in that unfeminine way. His only possible reply would be a firm ‘no.' But women can use their wiles—to encourage. Last time I went to a ball, I noticed the women conveying their intentions by using their fans as signals—some special language, apparently. So do not tell me women are powerless."

"But this is what I mean," Selina said. "Why should women have to resort to play acting with fans to express their opinions? Why cannot we say things directly as we see fit and tell someone exactly what we think? Especially if the other person's behavior has been very poor."

"Selina, I have noticed the subject has changed from marriage proposals to bad behavior. Has anyone been unkind to you? If so, give me their name, and I will deal with it."

"That is my whole point," Selina said. "I want to deal with things myself."

I want to grasp the nettle.

The children ran back to Selina.

"Look at the grasses I picked!"

"Miss Templeton! I found a funny twig."

"And I discovered a little leaf sitting all alone on a piece of grass."

"Here is a tiny ant. Do you like it?"

Heavens! I am meant to be looking after these children, not debating with Edmund. I must concentrate.

"All these things you have found are quite wonderful," Selina said to the children who were pulling at her skirt and holding up their treasures for her perusal.

"Indeed they are," Edmund said.

"Yes," Mrs. Godwin said, "and many of these objects could be put into a scrapbook later."

"Not the ant," Selina said quickly to a small child who was looking rather sad—possibly at the thought of the insect being squished between the pages of a book.

"May I keep the ant as my special pet?" the child inquired.

Selina knelt down beside the youngster and gently explained that ants were much better off in their natural habitat rather than inside a house made for humans.

"We have plenty of ants in our home," the child said.

"Ah," Edmund said, "but I believe this is an outdoor ant who wishes to stay here with his brothers and sisters, having fun scampering about on the Crescent Fields."

The child seemed happy with this explanation and the party continued on their nature ramble.

How sweet Edmund had been. George had been very gentle and understanding with the children too; the man must have hidden depths. Who would have thought that the oft tongue-tied George would find it so easy to converse with little ones and enjoy giving them rides on Trigger? He treated them as gently as a father would.

Or he pretended to. For was not George a dissembler—a rake, capable of deceitful behavior? Today was doubtless a mere act—why, he had even pretended to take extra care with the boy who limped when lifting him onto Trigger, as though he had great concern for his welfare. How perfidious could a man be?

At the end of the outing on the Crescent Fields, the children thanked Selina and Edmund for helping them.

"We loved it!"

"Yes, especially riding on the horse. That man was really nice."

"I wish we could have riding lessons every day."

"Well done, children, for saying thank you so appreciatively." Mrs. Godwin beamed as she regarded her charges. "Now I must take you back to your homes, for your mamas will be anxious to see you. Goodbye, Miss Templeton—and Mr. Templeton. Thank you again."

Edmund and Selina strolled across the grass to Number 1.

"Mama will be anxious to see you, too," Edmund said to Selina. "You know how protective she is and how much she worries about you. She seemed extra wary today at breakfast and mentioned danger. What is going on?"

"'Tis nothing much," Selina said, "only that Lord Steyne has been seen around Bath again and he has a grudge against George. There is some silly rumor that George, I mean Mr. Fitzgerald, and I are attached, so Mama thought I might be in danger."

Edmund chuckled on hearing this. "'Tis totally obvious from watching the two of you this morning that you absolutely loathe each other—which is odd, because there was a time I thought you were partial to him. Ah well! I am sure 'tis none of my business."

"Indeed, it is not!" Selina snapped. "Oh, I am sorry Edmund. Forgive me. I am a little tired this morning."

"Take a rest this afternoon," Edmund said. "You will feel better in no time."

He delivered Selina to the front door of Number 1.

"Are you not coming in?" she said. "It will be luncheon soon."

"No, I am going into the city to see who is around," Edmund said. "Please tell Mama not to expect me for dinner either. In fact, I might not be back this evening at all. Do not wait up for me."

With a bright smile, Edmund ran off down Brock Street.

Later that afternoon, Selina lay on the sofa in the withdrawing room. She had attempted to look at some of her music, but her voice felt scratchy and tired, so she decided to read her new novel. It would have been good to see Kitty. However, a message had come from Number 2 saying Kitty was still feeling a little out of sorts, and Doctor Jenkins had advised bedrest. There was nothing to worry about—'twas merely the sickness of early pregnancy—but she was to avoid all excitement, and that apparently included seeing her best friend.

Selina opened the first volume of Emma . Goodness! The heroine was certainly a strong character. She seemed very convinced she was right about all sorts of things. Pride could come before a fall, however, so perhaps later on in the story Emma would be proven mistaken.

Would it be wrong to have a quick peek in the other two volumes to see if this supposition was correct? Selina flipped through the pages of volumes two and three. Ah yes! Emma would be cut down to size for making things worse for others—and for herself. That would teach her not to poke her nose into matters that were none of her business.

Was this what I did when I went to the gaol? Perhaps I did not make matters worse—but I certainly didn't help any of the prisoners, which had been my primary intention.

Selina slammed the third volume shut. No, she was not going to look at the ending to see whom Emma married—Mr. Knightley or Mr. Frank Churchill. But it would turn out well for Miss Emma Woodhouse, that much was certain, for characters in a romance novel were guaranteed a happy ending. In real life, there was no such certainty.

However, I have nothing to worry about because I am perfectly happy to embrace a single life. I am resolved to find contentment in fulfilling the needs of others—as I helped the children this morning on the nature walk. How privileged I will be, married to my vocation of helping people; this will be enough to sustain me for the rest of my life.

Won't it?

Self-pitying tears threatened, but Selina gritted her teeth and continued reading, the gentle prose soothing her into a calmer state.

And ere long, her eyes closed, the volumes slipping from her lap.

Her dreams were vivid—and they were all of George.

She was chasing after him up a high mountain, yelling one minute how shameful his behavior was and the next pouring out her love and asking him to marry her. George did not seem to hear her entreaties, but continued his journey, on and on, over many treacherous mountains and then down into a valley. He swam right across a wide, green lake, and when he got out on the other side, he stood for a while in the wind, his wet shirt clinging to his chest. How magnificent!

Then Selina followed him into a deep chasm and through to a dank cave, watching in horror as he walked under a mighty stalactite. There was a person perched near the stalactite, hacking at it with an enormous axe. Lord Steyne—the fiend! The lethal point fell towards George...

Selina woke with a start.

"My dear," Lady Templeton said. "Have you had a good sleep? I didn't like to disturb you earlier, for I thought you could do with a rest."

Selina sat up on the sofa. "I was tired, Mama—but feel much restored."

"This is pleasing news," Lady Templeton said, "for I wondered if you might like to accompany me to the theater this evening. Your papa was to go with me; sadly, I fear he still has rather a sore head from last night."

"I would love to go to the theater," Selina said. "Thank you, Mama."

If nothing else, the spectacle will distract me from my preoccupation with George. I refuse to waste any more time thinking about a worthless man who will never be mine.