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Chapter Thirty

S elina sat at her desk, the quill poised in her fingers as usual.

She’d been staring down at the blank page in front of her for what seemed like years.

These letters to Ethel, still none of which had been returned, had been more like diary entries.

Still, Selina felt compelled to tell Ethel what was going on, and even if she did not return them, getting her feelings out on paper eased some of the pressure that choked Selina’s breath.

Dipping the quill into the inkwell, Selina tapped off the excess and began writing.

Dearest Ethel,

The wedding is tomorrow, and you are still not here.

I miss you terribly . You have been my dearest friend for as long as I can remember, and I do not want to do this without you.

If I am honest, I do not wish to do this at all.

The marriage is simply an arrangement to keep both Magnus and me secure, yet I still hate it.

I hate the notion of picking up and moving from the home I have been residing in for all of my adult life.

But what am I to do? Back out? It feels woefully too late to do such a thing. I will confess that I have dreamed of it, however. I have slept fitfully as of late, but the dreams that find me regardless of that are those about the Duke, about Hugh .

I am rather furious with fate and romance, Ethel.

How is it that this is how I am to come by those emotions and connections humans so long for?

Hugh is not an option. I have accepted another man’s proposal, and although neither of us is in love, the fact that I don't love Magnus feels odd.

Perhaps that is because I do love Hugh. I wish I did not, but there is nothing I can do to change it.

Selina sighed to herself, dipping the quill in the ink once more as she used the last of it off the brush. The room was so quiet this late at night, and thoughts of her conversation with her mother and Lydia plagued her mind.

I spoke with Lydia today. She found me on the balcony that overlooks the garden. I had hidden away from all the preparations because I was quite overwhelmed by it all. We talked for some time, discussing how we must make choices for the betterment of our family, rather than ourselves.

It was a bit humorous from my perspective as Lydia told me not to marry simply because Hugh demanded it.

She does not know the truth of the situation or how it is our situation that demands I marry Magnus, not Hugh.

This has become about something very different, no longer the simple matter of the Duke wanting us out from under his care.

I can see it in his eyes when I look at him.

Hugh wants to push us away—push me away—because he does not view himself as fit to take care of us. He’s said as much to my face.

The candlelight in Selina’s room flickered.

She’d let the candle burn nearly down to the base, and it was growing late.

It had been some time since she sat down to write the letter, and Selina knew that she should be sleeping but could not find it in herself to rest. There was too much in her mind that she simply must get out.

I assured Lydia as well that it was now my duty to carry on with the wedding as I had already accepted Magnus’s proposal.

It would be horrendous for me to call it off now as it would damage both our reputations.

I could not do that to Magnus. I may not love him romantically, but I do care about him as a friend.

But then, I ran into my mother, quite literally in fact.

She had come looking for me, and we wound up discussing the marriage as well.

I have never seen my mother be so open with me about anything before.

Something has certainly changed about her as of late.

It was a shock to hear her admit that her marriage was not perfect and that she knew she had placed a great deal of pressure on me to be the ideal lady.

Never in all my years did I expect her to say that, Ethel. Never .

A chill skittered along Selina’s spine, and she glanced over at the dying fire.

She would not ring a servant this late at night, but it was growing colder in the room with the flames receding as they did.

She stood up from the desk, walking over to where a small bundle of wood was kept near her fireplace.

She tossed two small logs into the hearth, blowing across them to encourage the bark to catch.

As it did, Selina retrieved her robe and covered herself with it as she sat at the desk once more. There was still so much to say to Ethel, and she wondered if she would sleep at all this night. It seemed unlikely.

Even more strange, my mother alluded to canceling the wedding if I were to be unhappy.

I had never imagined that Bridget of all people would put my happiness above duty.

It was so unlike her, and still, I could see the sincerity in my mother’s eyes.

She had likely sacrificed as much as I did when she first married my father, and as the eldest, I was following a similar path to hers.

Perhaps my mother seeks to keep me from the pain she experienced growing up.

I know that her family experienced harsher times than we have as her children.

Her life truly did seem to improve substantially after her marriage; understandably, she would think mine would do the same.

And it did to a degree in the beginning.

Easton was a kind man, and he did not ask anything of me.

But—

Selina hesitated, her quill hovering over the parchment again.

It was such a standard part of writing these letters to Ethel that she had to wonder if being honest, even to a piece of paper, was somehow difficult for her.

Though Selina was used to living a life of half-truths and outright lies.

The most honest she had ever been was in the letters to Ethel—and perhaps with Hugh at certain times.

It was a challenging endeavor for her, she realized, but one she would devote herself to as she entered this new phase of her life. Honesty with Magnus would be the only way forward, and at the very least, she could offer him that.

—it was lonely, Ethel. I have been lonely so much of my life that I almost don’t know how to be any other way.

It is with Hugh that I have found an answer to that loneliness.

Still, even though Magnus has informed me that taking a lover would be permissible—for himself as well—I do not think I could bring myself to do it.

Not that I haven’t already done too many things behind his back.

It is more that I do not wish to have Hugh in secret. And I know that it is not right for us to do this, regardless of what Magnus says. I had thought that giving myself to Hugh would end the fascination. I truly did. But I was terribly wrong.

There is nothing to do about it, Ethel. This is the lot that I have been given in life, and I will try to make the best of it. Still, I see gray clouds on the horizon and rocky storms that will dog all my days.

I wish I could hear your voice. I wish I knew if you were all right. I wish you were here, sweet Ethel. I want that desperately. Surprise me. Surprise me and be here come morning, and I will give you this letter by hand.

Your friend,

Selina

Rolling the quill between her fingers, Selina considered if she had more to add, but she was as satisfied with the letter as she could be.

She set her writing tool down, blowing over the ink and dusting it with a drying agent.

When it was ready, she folded it properly and ensured it was sealed with a bit of wax and her press with the Soulden seal.

The shiny red wax was allowed to dry, and Selina stood up from the desk, walking to the fireplace once again.

It had heated quite a bit, and she didn’t believe another log was necessary.

Still, as she turned around and eyed the bed, she could not bring herself to lie down.

She was restless, too many thoughts and emotions tumbling through her, laundry scrubbed in the basin of her mind.

Looking outside her window, Selina tracked the winding paths in the garden beneath her room. It was late, and she would likely find herself alone in its confines. Nodding to herself once, she pulled her robe tighter around herself and fetched a blanket for good measure.

Going for a walk in the night air would suit her. Even if it didn’t actually solve any of her problems, the fresh, crisp scents and stillness would ease the tension dogging her. At least, she hoped it would.

She retrieved a pair of shoes from the closet that would not get stuck in the grass, likely damp with dew at this hour, and sat down on the edge of her bed to pull them on.

Her hair was hanging loose around her shoulders, and there was the brief flicker within her to put it up properly.

Still, who was she going to see roaming the gardens this late at night? It would be fine.

Standing, Selina proceeded to the door with her shawl and robe wrapped tightly about her.

The garden would be there for her as her mind spun round and round.

She was, after all, supposed to marry Magnus come morning, and this would be her last night as truly herself.

He was a fine man, but Magnus would not understand her.

He’d always been rather odd about how much Ethel read and such.

Undoubtedly, he would be the same with Selina when he realized how different she was from how she allowed the world to see her.

Perhaps, Magnus would not deign to care, though.

It was reasonable to assume that they would see little of each other during their marriage as well.

She would be taking care of Kitty and her sisters until it was time for them to make their debut and find matches of their own.

Her life would be full of responsibilities and commitments she could not escape.

This was her last night of freedom, the slim amount she had of it at least. And with that being the case, she would spend it in the only other place outside of the study within the grand estate that she loved with all her heart—the garden.

So, Selina slipped from the estate with a familiar phrase ringing through her head.

You must do this, Selina. Your family needs you. Do not disappoint them.