Page 50 of The Earl's Demure Spinster
She would likely never be the same again.
The tranquility of the lake with the smooth surface of the water, disturbed only by the occasional ripple from a passing duck or the wind’s gentle caress, was a nice sight but it did nothing to dampen her sadness. As she meandered along the water’s edge, her mind replayed the events of the past weeks, the whole time that she had been in London. There had been so many ups and downs that it was no wonder she felt fraught and distressed.
Just as Sylvia began to wonder if she would ever find the calm she sought before she left the big city, a sound broke through her thought barrier. A familiar voice drew her attention. She looked up to see Lady Harriet and her maid, Eliza, on a make shift platform jutting over the water. Lady Harriet, ever the adventurous spirit, was gesturing animatedly, her laughter ringing out as she called out to someone passing her by.
Sylvia paused, a smile tugging at her lips despite her mood. It was nice to see a familiar face, just for a moment before sheleft this place. Lady Harriet had always been a source of comfort, even if everything else was terrible. Lady Harriet’s energy was infectious, and for a moment, Sylvia felt a flicker of lightness within her. But then, as if in slow motion, she saw the platform shift. There was a creak of wood, a sudden tilt, and before Sylvia could react, the platform gave way.
Lady Harriet’s scream pierced the air as she fell, arms flailing, into the cold, dark water. Eliza, on firmer ground, reached out desperately but too late. Sylvia’s heart leapt into her throat, and without a second thought, she broke into a run.
“Lady Harriet!” she shouted, skidding to a halt at the water’s edge.
Lady Harriet surfaced, gasping, her eyes wide with panic. “I can not… I can not…” she sputtered, struggling to stay afloat. Sylvia’s mind raced. She scanned the area for something, anything to help, but found nothing.
Eliza, frantic and near tears, called out, “Neither of us can swim! Please, you must help her!”
Sylvia’s breath caught at the gravity of the situation. Without hesitation, she kicked off her shoes and waded into the water, the cold biting into her skin. She swam toward Lady Harriet with strong, determined strokes, her own fear momentarily forgotten. Reaching her, Sylvia grasped Lady Harriet’s arm, holding her above the water as much as she could.
“Hold on to me,” Sylvia cried out, her voice firm despite the tremor in her heart. “I have got you.”
With a final burst of effort, Sylvia managed to tug Lady Harriet to the shore. Her muscles ached, and her lungs burned, but she refused to let go until she felt solid ground beneath her feet. As they stumbled onto the grassy bank, a crowd, drawn by the commotion, had gathered. Voices buzzed around them, a mix of concern and curiosity.
Sylvia barely noticed the faces at first, her focus entirely on Lady Harriet, who was now coughing and shivering, but thankfully safe. But then, through the blur of the crowd, a familiar figure caught her eye.
Lord Wesley pushed through the crowd and approached Sylvia, his eyes never leaving her face. Without a word, he shrugged off his jacket and gently placed it over her shoulders. The warmth of the fabric and the gesture itself made Sylvia’s breath catch. She looked up at him, gratitude and something deeper reflecting in her eyes.
Then thankfully, he began shooing the onlookers away. “Give them some space,” he commanded gently but firmly. “They need air.”
Once the crowd had dispersed slightly, Lord Wesley knelt beside Lady Harriet and Eliza, checking on their condition. “Are you both alright?” he asked, his voice calm but filled with concern.
Lady Harriet, wrapped up in a shawl that Eliza had put around her arms but still trembling, nodded weakly. “Thanks to Lady Sylvia, we are. I thought... I thought I was going to drown. She did not even think about it, she simply jumped in to save me. I do not know what would have happened without her, Wesley.”
Eliza, tears streaming down her face, added, “Lady Sylvia saved her. If she had not been here...” Her voice broke, unable to finish the thought. “I could not help, I was no use, I have never learned to swim, so I would have only made things so much worse…”
Lord Wesley turned to Sylvia, his eyes filled with admiration. “You are incredible,” he said softly. “Thank you for saving my sister like that.”
“Thank you, Lord Wesley,” Sylvia murmured, her voice trembling with a mix of exhaustion and emotion.
As Lord Wesley continued to hold Sylvia’s hand, a commotion behind them gradually grew louder. Sylvia, distracted by the intensity of Lord Wesley’s gaze, barely registered the sound of hurried footsteps and anxious voices until they were almost upon her.
“Harriet!” a voice called out sharply. It was Lady Victoria, her face pale with worry as she knelt beside Lady Harriet.
“Mother!” Lady Harriet exclaimed, her voice breaking with relief as she reached for Lady Victoria.
Sylvia’s heart tightened with guilt. How had she not noticed Lady Harriet’s mother arriving? She felt a flush of embarrassment as she realized she had been so absorbed in her own emotions that she had overlooked the potential danger coming her way. She was not supposed to be talking to Lord Wesley, never mind standing this close to him. She needed to create some distance between them immediately.
Lady Victoria’s eyes flicked to Sylvia, and though there was gratitude, there was also an unspoken reprimand in her gaze too, she could feel it shuddering painfully down her spine. Sylvia, feeling the weight of stress settle heavily on her shoulders, stepped back from Lord Wesley, dropping his hand as if it burned. She had loved the feeling of holding on to him, it had given her a glimmer of safety in this horrifying moment, but now she knew that she had to get away from him again.
This was why she needed to be in Bath. This was why she needed to get away from London. It was all too much for her. She could not handle any of it.
