Page 5 of Every Wallflower Has Her Thorns (Revenge of the Wallflowers)
Chapter Five
T he following morning, Sarah collected Alice and they set out for a turn in the park in Sarah’s new barouche. Her father had bought it for her as a coming out present. The carriage itself was lavishly decorated, adorned with intricate carvings, ornate detailing, and painted in rich colors. The exterior was a dark hue, deep green, accented with gold trimmings. It was a carriage to be seen in, hence why her father had bought it. He wanted his daughter noticed and married by the end of the season.
At least George didn’t try to marry her off as fast as possible. Alice felt sorry for her friend, who was made to feel as if she was a nuisance in the family home.
The horses pulling the barouche were a key part of the spectacle. They were high-stepping, well-groomed, and matched in color and stature. These horses were meticulously groomed, their harnesses adorned with shining brass fittings, and their manes and tails styled elaborately.
The horses were fine beasts. Her accident hadn’t made her hate horses. She’d even fed one a small sugar cube as she waited to be handed into the barouche.
As the sleek barouche glided through the winding paths of Hyde Park, Sarah and Alice reclined comfortably, the gentle swaying of the carriage complementing their animated conversation.
“Did you hear about the latest match orchestrated between Lord Everton and Miss Worthington?” Sarah inquired, her eyes bright with anticipation for the gossip to unfold. Sarah, her curls bouncing as the carriage moved, leaned forward slightly. “The whispers suggest it’s all but settled. Miss Worthington’s dowry is said to rival the size of the manor itself.”
“A perfect match, then,” Alice mused, her gaze drifting towards a cluster of elegantly dressed individuals sauntering along the park’s edge. “Ah, there’s the Duchess of Devonshire, resplendent in that new French gown. Have you seen anything more divine?” Alice may have a limp, and be a wallflower because of it, but she still loved fashion. She took pride in her gowns and presentation. Always trying to look her best in case a man decided to overlook her impediment.
Sarah followed her friend’s glance, nodding in agreement. “Exquisite, truly. I must inquire about her modiste; the French seem to possess the secret to unparalleled elegance.”
The conversation seamlessly shifted to the latest fashion trends, each lady sharing tidbits of information gleaned from various salons and society events. They discussed the delicate lace embellishments adorning the newest gowns, the resurgence of vibrant colors, and the merits of various milliners and dressmakers.
“And there’s Lord Harrington with Lady Penelope, both on horseback if you please,” Sarah noted, gesturing discreetly toward a pair riding along the nearby horse path. “They make quite the striking couple, don’t they?”
Alice nodded in agreement, while hoping the pair did not see them. “Indeed, but he’s her second cousin. Rumors of Lady Penelope’s secret correspondence with the Viscount of Wexford have also been circulating, but I suspect she’ll only settle for a much loftier title.” Dear me. It appeared she could be spiteful too. But the fact Penelope definitely had her eye on both her brother, George, and Calum, made her snarky. It would seem Penelope wanted all gentlemen to fall at her feet.
And she’d get them, most likely too! Her beauty saw many overlook obvious flaws in her personality. You are not jealous of that horrible woman.
“Men are pathetic!” Sarah exclaimed, her hand flying to her chest in mock shock. “Why is it that a woman who is so spiteful can so easily fool the men?”
“That’s easy. Men only look at the outer package. A woman who has good breeding is beautiful and would give them children. There are few gentlemen who look for love in a marriage. If they did, they most certainly wouldn’t want Lady Penelope.”
“Can we turn off here?” But it was too late. Penelope had spotted them and cantered over with Lord Harrington beside her. “Blast. We’ll have to stop and converse with her,” Sarah sighed.
“Good morning, ladies. Out on your own this morning?” Penelope said smugly.
In other words, they had no men asking them for a ride in the park. Yet she was only here with a second cousin and a viscount at that.
“A chance for a ladies only outing. To catch up with the season’s news.” Sarah answered her smiling, but her hands clenched into fists.
“I would have thought it more exhilarating to ride.” Penelope paused for effect. “But then, Lady Alice being a cripple probably prevents such a thing.” Sarah drew a sharp intake of breath, but Alice clutched her arm before her friend could protest on her behalf.
“We could have ridden, but we knew we would talk too much.” Alice said with a smile forced onto her face.
“Are you saying you can ride?” Penelope asked dubiously.
“Of course. Side saddle doesn’t require much strength in my leg.” Even Sarah seemed surprised at her declaration.
Penelope frowned. “Then perhaps we could go riding one morning. Your brother could accompany us.” Sarah and Alice looked at each other. She was about to reply when Calum and George arrived on two large black horses. “Oh, I was just inviting Alice to ride with me tomorrow, and I was hoping Lord Hampton could join us.”
George looked puzzled at Penelope’s statement. “A ride? With Alice?”
“I explained to Lady Penelope that I’m quite capable of riding.”
“We did wonder because she’s a cripple. I’m sure that’s what Penelope said,” Lord Harrington added without thought. Penelope’s face reddened.
It didn’t take Calum long to realize Penelope had goaded Alice into admitting she could ride. The fact that he knew she’d not ridden since her accident ten years ago, due to the fall that broke her leg so badly, they worried she wouldn’t survive. The bone had broken through the skin and no doubt she had a huge scar, especially as the wound got infected.
Twelve years ago, he and George blamed themselves for jumping the dangerously high hedge, wanting to escape their little shadow. They had no idea that twelve-year-old Alice would try to follow with such terrible consequences. Mercifully, she’d been knocked senseless from the fall, but he could still remember her screaming as they reset the leg and stitched her wound.
Alice’s pleading stare saw him say, “Unfortunately, Lady Alice has agreed to go riding with me tomorrow.” Alice’s shoulders relaxed, but she remained silent, not prepared to say anything that could add to the lie.
George, catching on to Calum’s gallant attempt to help Alice, said, “Perhaps you’d agree to a ride in the park with me tomorrow, Lady Penelope?”
Alice frowned and if her eyes could shoot daggers, she would spear Penelope.
“That would be lovely. Thank you, Lord Hampton. Shall I expect you at ten?”
George nodded his head.
Lord Harrington looked bored and not at all concerned that the lady he was riding in the park with would ride with another man tomorrow. “Come on, Pen. Zeus here needs a good run.”
“Good day,” and Penelope cantered off with a huge smile on her face.
“Oh, I hate that woman,” Sarah said. Alice patted her arm.
George turned to Alice. “What on earth was that about? You haven’t ridden since your accident.”
“She didn’t ask if I rode. She implied I couldn’t. I could if I wanted to.”
“But you don’t want to. You’re petrified of being on a horse,” her brother said.
“Lady Penelope doesn’t have to know that,” she retorted. She swung to look at Calum. “While I appreciate what you were trying to do, you’ve now made it so George will have to escort Penelope in the park, and when she doesn’t see me riding there at least once, she’ll think I was lying.”
“Then we shall have to prove to her that you can ride.” He watched as fear entered Alice’s eyes. “I’ll help you and we will take it slowly. No one will force you.” She didn’t look any happier. “Come to my house this afternoon, before the chess match and we can start. You know I have a large stable in town and a very safe walled garden to practice in. No fences. I promise.”
“What sort of horses do you have, though?”
Sarah answered. “I have Toby in my stable. He’s the pony I learned to ride upon. He’s not very big, and has such a lovely temperament. You may borrow him. He’s getting bored and needs a bit of exercise. I’ll get Sam, our groom,” she said, nodding to the man standing on the carriage runner behind, “to bring him around to Lord Skye’s stable as soon as we get home.”
He watched Alice closely. Would she decline? Then her shoulders squared and he could tell she really wanted to face this fear. He suspected she hated being scared to ride. In fact, she’d hate being scared of anything.
“That could work. Thank you, Sarah. Thank you, Calum. And George, I’m sorry I put you in this situation where you have to ride with Lady Penelope.”
“I’m sure I’ll survive,” he said dryly, but the look he sent to Calum was one that said he owed his friend for this.
* * *
A lady never looked her best with bags under her eyes. Alice’s lack of sleep was compounded by a churning stomach as she prepared for today’s horse riding trial. Calum had challenged her to face her fear. He knew she was petrified of riding, but he’d made her agree in front of witnesses.
Sitting in the opulent dining room, her gaze fixed on the crackling fire, memories of that fateful day flooded her mind. The warmth from the flames couldn’t dispel the chill that accompanied the recollection of that harrowing incident from her childhood.
She traced the delicate porcelain of her teacup absentmindedly, transported back to the vibrant greens of summer at their family estate, to the day she dared to follow her elder brother and his friend as they raced across the estate. She had ridden her beloved mare, Primrose.
The memory was vivid. She had been determined to keep up with her brother. The thrill of the wind in her hair, the pounding of hooves against the soft earth, the rush of adrenaline as Primrose cleared the first hedge effortlessly. But then came the second, much higher hedge. She remembered hearing the young men ahead of her screaming at her not to take the jump, but she ignored them so caught up in the joy of the chase. Suddenly, Primrose clipped the hedge and landed awkwardly. Alice remembered flying through the air, and hitting the ground with a sudden jolt, the sickening snap of bone as she hit the ground in a whirl of pain.
She must have lost consciousness because the next thing she remembered was being transported on the back of a wagon, her father holding her hand while George and Calum looked green about the gills.
Searing agony had torn through her leg, the sharpness of every breath adding to her pain due to a couple of broken ribs, as she lay there, crumpled and broken. Her brother’s frantic rush, the anguish etched on her parents’ faces, the distant sounds of her own screams, all echoed in her mind like a haunting melody.
She recalled the journey to the manor, the agony of each jostle in the carriage as it carried her towards the house, the fear that gripped her heart tighter with every passing moment. The estate’s physician, a man of skill and precision, had worked swiftly to set the fractured bone, but not swiftly enough. She lost her voice from screaming.
The pain was unyielding, so they’d dosed her with laudanum. She remembered the needle and thread piercing her skin as they sewed the stitches, the sharp tugging sensation reminding her of her recklessness.
She looked at the clock on the mantle. Sipping her tea, the delicate cup trembled slightly in her grip, a testament to the lingering impact of that long-ago day. Though years had passed and the bone had healed, her leg was a mess with an ugly red scar. The wound had got infected and it was never certain she’d survive. Long skirts covered the deformity of her skin on her leg, but the limp was on display for all to see.
The memory of that excruciating pain remained etched in the very marrow of her being, a reminder of the consequences of youthful impetuosity. She’d never ridden again.
She drew in a deep breath, banishing the memories back into the recesses of her mind, and returned her attention to the present. Both Calum and George still blamed themselves. That’s why they were so tolerant of her.
That’s why Calum wanted to help her ride again. Guilt.
She would have to face her deepest, darkest fears today. In front of Calum. Could she do this? Maybe she was feeling under the weather today? Perhaps she’d send her apologies , but then she’d miss the chess match and Cazenove really needed her.
She couldn’t think straight since she’d had so little sleep. She rubbed her leg absently.
Deep down inside, she knew she wanted to try. She’d loved riding, and since she could do little else in the way of activities, riding would give her freedom to be outdoors. To mix with others without the hindrance of her limp.