Garden of May - Chapter 6
Chapter 6
“The Grand Tour! Imagine, seeing the Hessian Palace, the Temple of Santra, the Espada Naval Museum, in person…”
“Why don’t you come with us? We can cover your expenses.”
“You know women can’t do anything without their legal guardian’s permission. And my uncle is eager to hurry this… ‘transaction’ along.” The word ‘transaction’ stung with a bitter truth, but it was the most accurate description of her situation.
While Rosaline fumed, Blair, who had been sipping her tea serenely, placed her cup delicately on its saucer. “Perhaps I could help, Somerset?”
Vanessa’s half-closed eyes snapped open. Blair’s aquamarine gaze rested steadily on her.
“Help?”
“What if we announce that we’re romantically involved?”
Vanessa’s cat-like eyes widened. “Me? And you, Blair Fabian Winchester, with your fiancée?”
“I’ll have a word with Cecily.”
“A vague ‘romantic involvement’ won’t deter my uncle. It’ll just increase his surveillance.”
“The heir to Winchester is a more tempting prospect, wouldn’t you say?” Blair shrugged, his tone light and playful, but his intent was serious. For some time, he had felt a certain… yearning for Vanessa. It wasn’t quite love, more akin to a possessive desire for a longtime friend.
Beautiful, but poor. Demure, yet defiant. Looking into Vanessa’s watery grey eyes, he could almost understand the sailors’ tales of being bewitched by sirens.
“You’ve completely lost your mind, brother,” Rosaline interjected, one elegant eyebrow arched. “It’s cruel to Cecily. You know how aware she is of the two of you.”
“That’s not Vanessa’s problem. Nor is it her fault that our mothers were inseparable.”
“That’s a fallacy.”
“Cecily needs to experience the world. In this day and age, she has a governess instead of attending school, bridal lessons instead of a Grand Tour. I couldn’t stand an hour in her company, she’s so dreadfully dull.”
“Enough about that.”
“I’d prefer Vanessa, anyway.”
“Blair Fabian Winchester.” A subtle anger laced Rosaline’s normally flat tone. If Blair were truly committed, it might be different. But lukewarm pity and half-hearted yearning would only lead to unhappiness for everyone.
Besides, rumors, regardless of intent, always twisted into something more scandalous. Blair might weather the storm, but Vanessa would be the one left in ruins. An unmarried woman, shamelessly taking a lover.
The world was changing rapidly, yet people still obsessed over a woman’s v*rginity. The millennia-old tradition was not just tiresome, but horrifying. Yet, as aristocrats, they were bound by it. Rosaline, Vanessa, even Blair, all understood this.
“Yes, Blair. The joke’s over.” Vanessa forced a casual smile and walked to the window. They were all blue-blooded. They had been taught from the cradle not to disrupt carefully arranged marriages with personal feelings. Moreover, Cecily’s family, the Brontes, were a far more advantageous match than her own dilapidated Somerset line.
“If you even pretended to jilt her, the Marquess of Winchester would have a stroke.”
“She’d be lucky to escape being sold off to some rich man in the New World,” Rosaline added cynically, making Vanessa chuckle. It was that kind of era. An era of advancing technology, of commoners refusing to remain tenant farmers. Traditional landed gentry were slowly declining, while those who’d emigrated to the New World amassed fortunes built on the backs of enslaved natives. Factories, powered by modern machinery, lined the rivers.
“Still, Vanessa, if it becomes unbearable, you know you can always talk to me.” Vanessa glanced back at Rosaline, who stood by the half-open window, letting the breeze ruffle her hair. Her usually composed friend’s face was etched with a rare concern.
