Page 30

Wednesday, teatime at Ashley’s father’s house, London.

I t was incredibly kind of Ashley to organize a gathering.

Gathering.

Only sixty people, eighty at most.

Sera stood on the landing of the second floor and watched Ashley and Thomas greet guests alongside Ashley’s parents, the Earl and Countess of Chaswick.

Some guests congratulated them on their recent engagement and expressed their surprise at the match.

She angled her parasol just enough to shield her from the fading direct sunlight, her wrist tilting awkwardly as though unsure of its proper place.

The delicate lace edges trembled faintly in her grasp while, in her other hand, the fan wavered, moving not for cooling but simply for something to do.

Her fingers brushed over its ribs, tracing the painted surface thoughtlessly, her movements more intentional in their distraction than their purpose.

Oh, how surprised everyone would be if they knew that Sera had tried to dissolve hers—with the prince, of course. Not Alex.

Speaking of the prince, Sera needed to confront him and yet feared the encounter.

Her fiancé.

A shiver of dread coursed down her spine.

And people probably thought she was a complete dimwit for trading a man she’d spent a few days trailing barefoot along the beach for a lifetime with a prince, but yes, she much preferred Alex over anyone else.

Ever! She didn’t want to meet any prince, no matter how “capable” and “stunning” he might be.

The garden buzzed with conversations that drifted between the trimmed hedges and rose-covered arches.

Thus, Sera stepped away from the crowd, her slippers scuffing the stones as she sought the shadows near a blooming jasmine bush.

The air was heavy with the fragrance of flowers and the faint tang of overheated summer wine.

It pressed against her, thick and unrelenting, much like the endless parade of smiles and expectations surrounding her tonight.

She clasped her hands together, her skin cool against the warmth radiating from her flushed cheeks and turned her face toward the darker edges of the garden. She exhaled carefully, her chest tight, her lungs heavy like they were fighting the weight of all the unspoken judgments around her.

It would probably soon come.

They would think her ridiculous, a girl who had traded the impossible dream of marrying some princely paragon for the quiet simplicity of a man who held none of their titles or powers.

But no one knew.

No one could know how she had learned the way Alex’s laugh softened when it came unbidden, or how his voice dipped in kindness when he told her she could do anything to him.

How could she explain to anyone that no title mattered when Alex looked at her as if she were the only person in the world who mattered?

Sera’s fingers tightened around the grip of her parasol.

She stood still, her eyes fixed on the maze of blooms stretching before her.

Just another moment here, just one. Far from the polite smiles and endless guessing games until she could seek a formal introduction, speak to the prince, break the engagement, cause a scandal, a rift in her family, perhaps the collapse of Lyndon Fleets and Transportation .

Absolutely no pressure at all. Yet how terrible could it be to say those simple words to the prince? A good man?

“I will not marry you,” Sera announced.

“I won’t be your wife,” Sera practiced again.

She cleared her throat. “I have lain with another man.”

Yes, that was all she would need. It felt like a snowflake turning into an avalanche that not even the oppressive London heat could melt this summer.

Another moment to gather her courage.

The days without Alex hadn’t been easy. She kept doubting, dwelling, and questioning whether their bond was truly strong enough for him to meet her at Vauxhall. Her heart said yes, but her mind wondered whether Alex might be too good to be true.

She didn’t want these thoughts.

But they crept in again just as Sera walked deeper into the garden until she reached the end and came to the cobblestone path that led to the park.

How utterly miserable that he was here in London, just like her, and she had no way of finding him! No way to reassure herself that the heart truly grows fonder apart and doesn’t turn indifferent.

She stepped onto the grass, wishing she could remove her slippers and toss them aside as she had on the beach.

Yellow butterflies flitted lazily among the blooming rose bushes, and the soft breeze carried the earthy scent of freshly cut grass.

Sera paused at the edge of the garden, her fingers lightly brushing the iron gate as she took in the scene from afar.

Ashley had truly outdone herself.

There, nestled between two rows of flowering rose arches, stood a white tent.

Its light fabric billowed gently in the breeze, the edges tied back with ribbons that danced as if they understood the charm of the afternoon.

Beneath the tent lay a row of tables, their white linens neatly arranged and topped with centerpieces of pale pink wildflowers.

Each arrangement was effortlessly elegant, the kind of detail that could only come from Ashley’s thoughtful touch.

How she loved her friend!

Everything looked perfect.

However, Sera felt like a spot of spilled ink in an otherwise idyllic afternoon tea garden party.

Her mind certainly didn’t match the decor!

Even the weather appeared determined to align with Ashley’s efforts, showcasing a sky stretched endlessly blue, unmarred by even a single wisp of cloud.

The warmth of the sun sank into Sera’s skin, gentle yet insistent, though the brim of her bonnet shielded her face.

A soft chatter of voices carried faintly from the tent, punctuated by the chiming laughter of someone clearly reveling in the hospitality.

Someone who wasn’t hiding like Sera, yet her feet moved farther away from the scene and over to the park.

“Sera!” a voice called out. “There you are! What are you doing? You should be in the thick of things, not lingering on the outskirts!”

Sera turned to see Ashley rushing over. “How did you find me?”

“I know you better than you think. What’s wrong?”

Sera sighed. “I don’t know. I just need a moment to breathe.”

“You’re not ready to meet the prince, are you?”

“Yes, no, I don’t know.”

Ashley arched a brow. “Having second thoughts?”

“Of course not!” Sera pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I’m just apprehensive. What if he is dead set on this marriage no matter what?

What if he tells my parents and I’m locked away until the wedding?

” She had never felt more regretful about not telling Alex the whole truth about herself.

Because if the worst happened, how could he help her escape? And would he even help if he knew?

“I understand,” Ashley said, hooking her arm into Sera’s. “Let’s take a walk.” Ashley led her toward the tree-lined path winding deeper into the garden. Her heartbeat matched her growing sense of restlessness, Ashley’s earlier words nagging in her mind.

What if Alex didn’t show up at their designated time and place?

What if she had lost her heart with no hope of getting it back?

She had to banish the thoughts. Somehow.

“The prince accepted the invitation,” Ashley continued. “He should be arriving soon, if he hasn’t already. It’s best just to take a deep breath and face the situation head-on.”

Sera’s hands found the folds of her gown, smoothing them absently as she stole one more glance toward the tent.

The roses framed it, creating a pretty picture.

Perhaps Ashley had hoped Sera might bloom amidst all this well-crafted beauty, grasping her future with boldness.

She almost laughed; she’d given her flower away already!

All she could hope for now was that she wouldn’t wilt away in London with a broken heart!

How long ago it seemed that he had saved her life. She could remember how his hands had steadied her—firm but not rough. Now, she could only feel the absence of him, a hollow space inside her chest.

“What if I lack the courage?” Sera asked as they approached a spot near the pond at the center of the garden and sat down alone.

“We all lack courage once or twice or maybe even seven times,” Ashley replied. “I nearly lost the love of my life for lacking the courage to tell him the truth about why I approached him. Fortunately, courage comes when you think it has utterly forsaken you.”

Sera smiled. “What if I believe that now?”

Ashley scoffed. “You are stalling, not lacking courage. There’s a difference, you know. We all stall in the face of discomfort.”

A bee droned too close to her ear, and she flinched, snapping the fan open with a sharp flick of her wrist. One of the eddies from the pond sent a fleeting burst of cool air her way, rustling the brim of her bonnet.

“You know,” Ashley said, “you could just swat away the prince like that.”

The garden was alive with the gentle hum of conversation and the flicker of lantern light, yet Sera found herself oddly detached from the revelry.

She laughed softly, glancing at her gloves—snow-white and fitted, a contrast to the muddier emotions knotting her stomach ahead of her meeting with the prince later that afternoon.

Nerves had their place, surely, but this felt heavier, more insistent than mere anticipation.

Ashley leaned closer suddenly, her fan fluttering without purpose. “So,” she began, too casually, “you mentioned you did… that with your sea man.”

Heat rushed to Sera’s face as she stiffened under the question. “Yes, what about it?” Her voice teetered between defiance and unease.

Ashley lowered her tone. “The only reason I ask whether you… you know… is because there’s a certain risk—”