CH 03

Theodore’s question startled River Ross back to attention. His superior officer didn’t appreciate spaciness. “I’m planning to… travel south, sir. To Gloucester Castle.”

“Gloucester Castle? Is that your home?”

“Ah, no, sir. My uncle has been a gardener at the Somerset estate for many years. He said they need extra hands this summer, so I was going to help out.”

Theodore stared at his overly earnest subordinate, momentarily speechless. Sensing the need to elaborate under that gaze, River Ross stammered on. “I thought it would be better to do something useful during my leave than just laze around. Gloucester has fresh air, a river nearby for swimming, and I can use an empty shed for lodging. The Count of Somerset readily agreed.”

Of course he’d welcome free labor with open arms. Theodore curled his lip, a cynical thought he couldn’t voice to the petty officer echoing in his mind. That slowpoke wouldn’t know how to seize an opportunity if it bit him.

And who am I to judge? In a few hours, I’ll be surrounded by the wolves of society, attending endless tedious events. The thought alone brought on a wave of fatigue and a budding headache.

“The train to Bath should be arriving soon. If you’ll excuse me, Captain…”

“Ah, yes.” Theodore nodded dismissively, about to turn away, when something stopped him. The sun-baked train from the south pulled to a slow stop before them, radiating waves of shimmering heat.

“You seem to lack any zest for life.”

The unexpected echo of a past conversation made Theodore slowly exhale. The whisper of a dead man, like a siren’s song, warmed his mind. In his mind’s eye, a skeletal hand tapped his chest.

“You perform your duties precisely, but you take no joy in them. And you probably never will. I wish, just once, you would follow your heart instead of your head.”

“My heart?”

“Your impulses, your desires.”

It struck him with an almost disconcerting force. The sunlight was exceptionally bright today, the breeze cool, the sky impossibly clear. And so…

“I’ve changed my mind.”

“Sir?”

Theodore offered River Ross a picture-perfect smile, startling the younger man. Those fortunate enough to receive such a smile from their captain usually responded with awed admiration. River, however, was one of the few who sensed a lurking danger in it.

“You said your relatives are in the south?”

“Yes, sir, but…”

“I’ll be joining you on your wholesome summer holiday.”

“Sir?”

As River Ross gaped in bewilderment, the doors of the newly arrived train hissed open, releasing a plume of hazy steam, as opaque as the petty officer’s future.

* * *

The Winchester twins arrived in the late afternoon. Unlike Baron Howard’s car, which had broken down, delaying his arrival by several days, the twins’ vehicle arrived at Gloucester Castle’s gates on schedule.

Vanessa eagerly rushed out to greet her old friends. Though they had parted only weeks before, the joy of seeing each other outside of school made the reunion feel fresh and exciting. While the Winchester family servants unloaded the massive trunks, the three friends settled into a large drawing-room overlooking the gardens.

“Ruin your makeup.”

Rosaline offered the advice with a serious expression. Blair, crunching on a sugar cube, chimed in, “Or pretend to be mentally unstable.”

“How about bursting into tears the moment you meet him?”

“Or just act incredibly gauche. I could lend you one of Grandmother’s dresses if you like.”

“…Why on earth did you bring those?” Blair asked, incredulous. Rosaline shrugged nonchalantly. “For photos in front of the Temple of Santra. I want to recreate Grandmother’s Grand Tour picture, same pose and everything.”

“Wouldn’t you rather have Howard himself? He’s nearly seventy, you know.”

“Ew.” Rosaline’s exclamation sounded more like a gag. It was a nauseating age gap. A woman barely twenty and a man pushing seventy.

“I’m just so envious of you both,” Vanessa confessed, stretching her long limbs out in front of her before collapsing back onto the plush sofa. It was a breach of etiquette, but the only person who ever entered this room was the maid who brought ice when the bell was rung.

“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.

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