Chapter 14

Selina walked the meandering walls of Valebridge Castle, disconsolate. Arthur had left for London on horseback, taking no servants or luggage. She had watched him depart from an upstairs window, mounted on a chestnut stallion, no hat upon his head. He had looked magnificent atop the horse, in complete control of the powerful animal. In other circumstances, she would have relished the sight of him. Now though, it filled her with despair.

He is now realizing how trapped he is. Because of me. The resentment is beginning, and he is seeking to escape me. Maybe I should make it easy for him and leave while he is away. Spare him from having to go through with the wedding.

Then her mind went back to the conversation at breakfast time. His attitude appeared to change when she had broached the subject of reminiscences. She frowned as she watched him ride away, disappearing through a stone arch to reappear on the wandering lane that led through the grounds towards the road.

Why is he so reluctant to talk about our past? Is he now embarrassed by it? Or ashamed? How? There was nothing in our relationship but innocent love.

Then there was the scar. She had almost accepted it. Memory was frail and subject to eroding over time. Perhaps she wished Arthur to be so perfect in her recollection that she had unconsciously removed it.

Or maybe he is a different man entirely, merely pretending to be Arthur.

The thought made her laugh aloud.

"Begging your pardon, my lady. Hope I'm not disturbing you?"

Selina jumped out of her skin at the sudden voice. She whirled to see Gracie, standing with a white apron tied around her waist and a feather duster in her hand. Selina had sought a room at the front of the house to watch Arthur's departure unobserved, she had not checked if anyone else was in the room. It was a large room with a cold, white marble fireplace at one end, and decorated with wallpaper depicting trailing flowers in reds and yellows. The furniture was covered with dust sheets, though Selina could now see that Gracie was removing those sheets and dusting the furniture beneath.

"Gracie! You scared me half to death!" Selina cried, a hand to her throat.

"I am sorry, my lady. Didn't realize that you hadn't seen me," Gracie said, curtsying deeply, her face flushing bright red.

Selina crossed the room to her, putting her hands on the young woman's shoulders.

"Never mind. It was entirely my fault. I have a favor to ask, now that I think on it. You used to call me Miss Voss when we first got to know each other. My name is actually Selina, and I should deem it a great favor if you called me by that name, at least when we're alone together."

Gracie's blush deepened. "Oh, I couldn't…"

"Yes, you could. It would put me at ease to know that I have at least one friend in this house. Please?"

The smile that blossomed across Gracie's round face was heartfelt and happy. She bobbed her head, her brown curls held back by a headscarf.

"In that case, it is my duty to my mistress. Mr. Beveridge told me this morning that I am to be your personal maid. If you and His Grace approve, of course. That's why I'm beginning to put this room into order. It was one of the Duchess' day rooms apparently."

"Well, I should be glad to have you as my maid, Gracie. I should certainly need a friend and confidante, I think," Selina said.

She felt sad that she might be gone before the wedding. That Gracie's excitement at being her lady's maid, surely a promotion for the woman, might be short-lived. But then, she had not made up her mind. Arthur was arranging for a wedding at his own cost. It would be rude to simply run away.

And what if my father then finds me? I have nowhere else to go, after all. I could find my grandmother's old cottage outside of Wilmington. If it was not sold, it has probably stood empty since she passed away.

Then, something that Gracie had said struck home.

"Apparently?" Selina repeated, "You mean you don't remember if it was used by the former Duchess?"

"It was before my time, Selina," Gracie replied, sounding as though she were trying the name on for size, unused to being given such freedom.

Of course. Rather obvious if I had stopped to think about it.

"Before everyone's time really. I don't think any of the current household staff were here before His Grace inherited. Mr. Beveridge has served him longest. Perhaps he was here under the old Duke," Gracie continued, resuming her dusting.

Selina frowned. "That seems unusual. The staff in my father's house have served more than one generation of our family. The only ones who haven't, were those who were the children of those staff that married. My father always took inordinate pride in the fact that so few of his household wanted to leave his employ."

"Sounds like a good employer, if you ask me. Still, His Grace is very fair and very generous. I couldn't ask for better."

"My father was not a good employer. I do not know why our staff did not leave him…" she paused to think, "…yes, I do. They were afraid of him. We all were. But why would every member of staff leave after the old Duke died? Did they dislike Arthur?"

Gracie shrugged. "No one has ever told me or spoken of it in my hearing. Mr. Beveridge doesn't like it to be spoken of. Says His Grace does not like to dwell on the past."

That certainly fits my experience of Arthur. I wonder why?

Selina felt muddled, her thoughts confused. She had felt as though Arthur was pulling away from her. Now, she questioned the man himself. His behavior was odd. The reluctance to speak to her of their times together and the mass exodus of all the staff that had served the old Duke. She had no explanation and felt as though each line of thought was becoming tangled with all the others, leaving an indecipherable mess. The beginnings of a headache were beginning to gnaw at her, and she knew of only one solution.

"Gracie, I am going to go out for a walk. Reacquaint myself with the countryside and the Downs," she announced.

"Very good, my…Selina," Gracie blushed again over her slip, "would you like me to accompany you."

"No, no. I can see that you're busy and don't want you to fall behind. I shall enjoy the solitude for a time. So much has happened these past few days."

Gracie smiled and bobbed a quick curtsy. Selina left her to her chores, returning to her chambers to dress appropriately. Then she left the Castle. She left via the south entrance, walking through the overgrown gardens, mossy statuary, and dry fountains, towards the hills that glowered over the structure. There was a blue sky all around her with fluffy conglomerations of cloud scudding along, pushed by a stiff breeze.

It tugged at the bonnet that Selina wore, tied beneath her chin by a yellow ribbon. The coolness of it was bracing and she enjoyed the feel of cold air contrasting with warm, July sun. She followed a path of bare earth, followed by a lane almost overgrown by grass, which wound into the hills. Finally, she struck out over a bare hillside meadow, clambering over a dry-stone wall and taking occasional rest on a mossy boulder.

The clouds slowly thickened in the air overhead, gradually obscuring more and more of the blue sky, darkening in color. She noticed the turning of the weather as she reached the eaves of a wood that cleaved to the sides of a narrow valley. She paused as the first fat drops of rain began to fall. Looking back, she could no longer see Valebridge. It was lost in the landscape. Quickly, a few drops became a torrent.

I will be returning to Valebridge in the same manner that I arrived. Like a drowned rat. I should have been paying more attention instead of trying to remember how to find the Fairy Dell.

Deciding there was no point in going further away from the house and even less point in striking back out over the exposed hillside until the rain had passed over, Selina sat on the ground at the foot of an oak that provided some shelter, resting her back against the trunk. For a while she sat, watching the thundering rain become thicker and thicker, the cloud coverage becoming a uniform expanse of gray from horizon to horizon.

She hugged her knees, resting her chin upon them. It all seemed so hopeless. Forcing Arthur into marriage. What had she been thinking? How could that ever work? But there was no other hope for her.

"Carry on looking that miserable and the rain will never stop," said a voice in a broad Welsh accent.

She turned to see a man shuffling out of the woods. He wore a threadbare assortment of clothes, heavy boots, and a threadbare tweed coat. A flat cap sat atop a mass of white hair and his face was lined, covered in a white, grizzled beard. Dark eyes regarded her from behind a wind-swept squint. She felt a moment of alarm, beginning to struggle to her feet. He put out a hand to her.

"No, no, blodwyn. I'm no harm. I'm Dai. The Duke knows me, so he does. Lets me roam over these lands and feed myself from his stock. I does no harm to no one. In fact, I'm the one who saw you safely to Valebridge a few nights ago. What's the matter, you like the rain or something?"