Page 3 of The Lord who Captured Her Innocent Heart
That night, they’d chosen very similar gowns: both light pink, with low-cut bodies that made their breasts bulge. They’d both commented, that afternoon, that they looked like proper women, these days. The thought had made them giggle before their faces had fallen with the realisation that this – being a woman – would be the rest of their lives.
“No! Surely they’ll notice,” Tatiana said.
“They will not,” Ella affirmed. “They know only the colour. They’ve been watching your laugh and your smile and your eyes and your hair. Your dress? It’s just like mine in several ways. They won’t notice a thing.” After a pause, Ella had pushed her forehead against her sister’s, saying, “Go. Go tell the Duke you wish to meet him, as well.”
The memory curled around Ella just now, reminding her of a similar time, a time when she’d “ruined” Tatiana’s night. It hadn’t been purposeful, and the thought of Tatiana’s pain had ripped her to shreds.
“Really, Ella…” Tatiana murmured again. “I want to do something. Anything to help.”
Ella set her chin, drew her fingers across her bangs, and scrubbed her forehead. “Tatiana, you know you mean more to me than any sort of hairdo.” She paused, watching her sister slowly unscrew her face. “And you’re right. I’ve spent far too much time indoors this afternoon, when we should be amongst the flowers, the trees. Won’t you come with me?”
Tatiana nodded, before tossing her arms around her sister and drawing her head tight against her shoulder. “You can’t imagine what you mean to me, Ella. No matter what happens. We’ll always have one another.”
Chapter 2
Ella draped a pretty hat over her head, shoving bits of her botched fringe beneath it. She followed Tatiana down the steps, praying her mother wouldn’t dart out from her sitting room to see the damage. Yes, seeing Frederick like this ate at her heart, but more than that, she was conscious that her mother would scold her, telling her that she made wretched decisions regarding her appearance. “You’ll never find a suitor like that.”
Once outside, Tatiana linked her arm with Ella, drawing her towards the garden. The silence hung heavy between them, and Ella hadn’t the energy to fuel conversation. In turn, Tatiana bucked up, beginning to tell her about the painting she’d recently finished, about the afternoon she’d had at a friend’s in Central London, about the ball she planned to attend the following week (“And wouldn’t you also like to come, darling Ella?”). As usual, Tatiana was the bright and sunny, charming London personality, the one the world craved. But her love for Ella drew Ella out into the world far more than she might have, up to her own devices. Ella knew this to be true.
Ella dropped her head back, gazing at the vibrant blue sky. She shivered despite it, feeling a kind of internal storm. Soon, Frederick would be back. Soon, she might have to make the biggest decision of her life, regarding marriage, her future. She blinked at her sister, the vibrant being before her, and reminded herself to thank her lucky stars. Her sister had been her rock, her best friend, throughout all times of strife and hardship and beauty. Someday soon, they wouldn’t necessarily be the first people they saw in the morning, nor the last person they spoke to at night.
She needed to appreciate the here and now.
“What’s it going to be like?” Tatiana sighed, unlatching herself from Ella and twirling so that her skirts echoed out around her. “When we’re married women? When we’re finally in love and loved?”
Ella grinned. This was a timeless conversation, one they frequently returned to. She kept up her side of the bargain, saying, “We’ll always have each other, even when we’re old and grey.”
“Of course we will,” Tatiana said, her eyelashes fluttering. She tilted her head, looking in the midst of a daydream. Ella wondered if there was a man Tatiana wasn’t telling her about: someone from Central London, perhaps. A friend of a friend, one Ella hadn’t yet met.
“I hope like whoever it is you end up with,” Tatiana offered then, twirling again. “I hope he upholds you for all you are, despite your bookish ways.”
“Hey!” Ella cried, reaching for her sister’s hand. She feigned being insulted, scrunching up her face while they twirled and twirled and twirled. She was unsure anything could feel as electric, as free as this afternoon: the afternoon before she was sure everything would change for good.
When Frederick arrived, she sensed a wave would fall over them, crashing into everything they’d ever known. Perhaps Tatiana would blink at her, a bit enraged, a bit saddened, demanding, “Why didn’t you tell me you loved him?” And Ella’s only answer would be that she wasn’t sure how to say it.
Ella thought back to the previous summer when she and Tatiana had been lazing in the back garden, and Frederick had found them – bouncing over the garden bush and declaring that it was far too nice an afternoon for them to laze about. Behind him had popped his good friend and cousin, Lord Peter Holloway, who was perhaps a year or two older than Frederick (and, Ella had always thought, a bit pompous, if terribly handsome. Although, it wasn’t as though being terribly handsome was something Ella was into. She considered herself almost blind to that, so sure she was that one could gaze into the depths of people’s souls and find the truth, there).
From then on that afternoon, the world had seemed awash with glory. Ella had watched as Frederick slipped easily over his horse, while Tatiana had struggled, pouting a bit. Ella had followed Frederick in style, making her leap onto the horse look easy.
“Your hair matches the horse’s,” Frederick had said, his eyes flashing. Her heart had pounded, loving the feeling that he was eyeing her, noting her.
“Mine matches my horse’s, too,” Tatiana had called, sounding arrogant.
Peter had rolled his eyes, darting his horse in front of all of them. He’d swirled the horse back when he reached the clearing before everyone, demanding why everyone was taking so long. At this, Ella and Frederick had locked eyes as if to say, “Doesn’t this man know that this is our territory? Our world? We do as we please. We go at our own speed.”
“Sorry about him. He’s my cousin, and I do love him,” Frederick had said once, after a visit from Peter. “But he can be a tire to be around.”
In a sense, Peter had reminded Ella of Tatiana. He always had to be the one to have the last word; he was artistic and wild and adventurous, and he demanded everyone listen to his stories, first. In this way, Frederick and Ella were similar. They were happy to watch the world turn, as long as they could remain home, filling their heads with words.
But as they’d cut deeper across the moors, Ella had lost track of her thoughts. She’d raced faster, slipping past Frederick, occasionally keeping up with Peter, even. In a sense, she’d wanted to show off, show to Frederick and her sister that she wasn’t to be messed with, that she could roam fast and wild, just like the likes of them. The “older” ones.
She wasn’t just a little girl.
But it was in this thought that her demise began. For suddenly, her horse bucked up, surprised at a rabbit that cut through the grass before him. Her hands unclasped from the reins, and she was cast to the ground, falling on her leg. The crack rang out, loud and clear in her ear. Her eyes were so large she felt them bug out of her head. She lay, sombre and alert, staring towards the sky, waiting. She knew that if she moved, the pain would buck up and down her spine, and she wouldn’t be able to do anything but cry.
Frederick reached her first. It was in his very nature to care the most. He fell upon his knees, gazing at her, his skin becoming grisly white, just as she knew hers was. He placed his hands on her shoulders and connected his eyes with hers, whispering, “It’s going to be all right. We’ll get you home. Don’t worry.”
Peter and Tatiana had arrived moments later, but Ella had hardly noticed. Her arms slithered around Frederick’s neck. She allowed herself to be lifted into him, conscious of his smells and his thick muscles and his curly black hair. She nearly blacked out, willing herself back to her bed, to the doctor that would wrap her leg up and deliver medicine. Frederick was ensuring that all would happen. Frederick was all she needed in the world.
