SWNOVELS Chapter In Fate's Cabable Hands
Viola
Pollyanna’s doorbell reverberates through her house. I patiently await a response, admiring her home with a hint of envy—Polly’s father, one of the wealthiest individuals in town and a bank owner, has granted Polly the independence to live independently in the center of town.
This arrangement helps her learn to manage her household and staff, preparing her for marriage. The freedom she enjoys is truly remarkable.
The door bursts open, and to my surprise, Polly herself greets me. She looks a little unwell and is wrapped snugly in a warm blanket.
“Well, I guess that’s why you didn’t go last night. You look absolutely done for. Why are you up? Go to bed, and I’ll come back when you’re better,” I say, turning around to leave.
Polly grabs me by my arm and pulls me through the door with a firm tug.
“Why do people keep grabbing me?” I grumble as she locks the door behind me and smirks.
“Come, let’s have some tea. You can tell me all about last night,” he claps her hands excitedly and links her arm around mine.
“There’s not much to tell,” I mumble as Polly leads me further into her house.
“Ha!”
Undoubtedly, Polly is privy to every detail from last night—knowing who said what, who met whom, and which lady caught the eye of the new Lord. Her sources of information are the most knowledgeable individuals in town: her staff. Many of them attend functions, gathering gossip while ensuring it doesn’t disrupt their household duties. Consequently, Polly receives secondhand reports of every event the morning after they occur.
Polly sits at the small table as one of her maids sets down a tray of tea and leaves us to our gossip.
I take a stack of biscuits and begin to munch on them. “I think you should be the one to tell me all about last night; I wasn’t there for very long and spent most of my time looking for you.”
Polly eyes me as she begins to pour tea, hiding a knowing smile. “As soon as I’m better, I’m coming over, and you have to show me this blue dress that’s sending everyone into a frenzy.”
I laugh. “Oh, is that all? For a moment, I was worried there’d be something more.”
“There is,” Polly smirks as she hands me my tea. “I also have it on good authority that you were talking with the new and very handsome Lord Spencer…in private.”
Polly raises a brow and waits for me to respond.
“I don’t like this,” I mutter into my tea, “we usually talk about others; now I know what it feels like to be the talk over tea.”
“Mary said you spoke for less than a minute and then ran off,” Polly adds.
I shake my head, tutting my tongue. “That Mary, always lurking and watching. And I didn’t run off, thank you very much; I was looking for you.”
Polly doesn’t look convinced but seems to let me off the hook. “Do you think him handsome? I’m yet to see him for myself.”
“Too handsome.”
“Then why didn’t you take advantage of the situation and keep him talking? Even to annoy Laura,” Polly chuckles.
“Time is too precious to waste on such things.” I let out a loud, exasperated sigh, “I wish I could just run away and see the world.”
“On your own? You’re joking; it’s dangerous, and think of your father’s reputation. Get your head out of the clouds and start thinking about the future. I hate to be the one to mention such dark things, but one day, and it might be sooner than you imagine, your father will pass, and then what? Everything you know will change. The house, all the estates, and the business will pass to your cousin Larry, and then what will you do?”
“You’ll just have to marry Larry and secure my future on my behalf,” I half joke and half hope as I sip my tea. “Plus, that would make us family.”
My conversation with Pollyanna repeats in my mind as I walk home through the park. What Polly said is unfortunately true, and that truth seems to loom above my head like a dark cloud, filling me with worry about every step I take. I’m so distracted by my thoughts that I don’t even notice Lord William Spencer walk past me until he greets me.
“Miss Clifton?” As my eyes lock onto his, Lord Spencer’s smile fades. “Are you all right?”
“Lord Spencer, yes, quite all right, thank you,” I lie.
Even though I’m somewhat expert at hiding my feelings, for whatever reason, I choose not to bother and let the truth fly right out of my mouth.
“You know what? No, I’m not all right. I think it’s all rather unfair, don’t you?”
I start walking away, muttering to myself like some deranged woman. A few steps later, I notice Lord Spencer walking by my side.
I stop and look at him. “You were in the Navy, sailed, and seen the world. We girls must seem ignorant and naive through your experienced eyes.”
His face is unreadable, his feelings hidden behind a stony mask.
When he doesn’t say anything, I challenge him. “Am I wrong?”
“No, and yes. I may be more worldly, but my experiences don’t make me superior to anyone; they simply add another facet to who I am as a person.”
Fine, Lord William Spencer might be more than just a pretty face.
“Why does one get sick on a boat?” I ask out of the blue. “I’ve always wondered if sea sickness was real.”
He smiles as he narrows his eyes at me. “I’m not sure of the cause, but it’s real. I’ve seen many a good man hurl his innards over—”
Lord Spencer catches himself.
“My apologies, this isn’t the most appropriate topic for conversation.”
I shrug. “I asked.”
Lord Spencer’s brows slowly furrow, and his gaze turns slightly serious, almost frightening. “Miss Clifton, please allow me to escort you to your destination.”
It’s my turn to knit my brows. “Oh, that’s quite all right, I’ll manage.”
A beautiful, knowing smile spreads across his lips, showcasing his perfectly straight, white teeth. “I do not doubt that, Miss Clifton, but I would welcome the chance to get to know you better.”
“Right,” I try to understand his intentions, but only one thing comes to mind, so I stop and look up at him. “Is this because of the dress?”
Lord Spencer clears his throat and looks away, clearly a little embarrassed. “Not entirely, no.”
“That clears that up.”
Taking advantage of my confusion, he hooks my arm around his. “Come, Miss Clifton, before you run away again.”
He starts to lead me through the park, and before I know it, I’m taking a tour around the park with Lord Spencer.
During our walk, I learned that Lord Spencer had made his fortune in the East. He imports silks and various goods from places like Korea and China and is keen to start trading with Japan, although, according to him, the Japanese are apparently less accepting of outsiders.
His stories captivate me so much that the dark cloud above my head starts to clear as we aimlessly stroll around the park, chatting comfortably. I’m not sure what about him last night made me apprehensive—he seems genuinely nice. People watch us as we pass, and some even introduce themselves to Lord William Spencer. After the introductions, he politely excuses us, and we continue our walk.
Deciding to let my mask slip a little, I let it show I’m not exactly a prim and proper lady. I’m not sure why, but I feel compelled to show him that there are more layers to me—depths beyond painting and embroidery. For some reason, when I look at Lord Spencer, he reminds me of a stepping stone in my journey—he is the beginning of something, and following my gut, I openly share my passion for driving, new technology, hunting, languages, books, and literature with Lord Spencer. I delve into ancient stories from Greece, Rome, and the Vikings—tales of wars, tragic love, pagans, and other topics considered unsuitable for a lady to discuss.
“You know, this is the most interesting conversation I’ve had with a woman in quite some time,” Lord Spencer remarks after I share my fascination with Achilles, who was made immortal when his mother Thetis dipped him in the river Styx. Lord Spencer could be Achilles—he certainly looks like a god.
He stops walking and faces me. “May I call on you tomorrow?”
Glancing around, I realize the day is almost over, and my stomach growls. “Tomorrow? No, tomorrow is Monday; I spend Mondays with my father.”
As I go to pull my arm away, he holds it a little tighter and smiles. “Tuesday, then? You said you like driving. Perhaps I can take you for a ride in my new car?”
“Alone?”
“No, with a suitable chaperone, of course. I’d never want to risk your reputation.”
“Just so we’re both on the same page, you mean to court me? Is that right?”
“I thought it obvious,” Lord Spencer smiles, and I can’t help but stare at his lips.
My heart races, and I feel a surge of panic. I’ve never been at a loss for words. Should I allow this courtship to continue, potentially marrying him for security, or should I end it now and risk losing this opportunity? I’ve never been courted before. I don’t consider myself plain, but I’m sure everyone in town believes me an unsuitable wife for any man.
I’ve been transparent with Lord Spencer today, and he hasn’t fled. He likely wants children to carry on his family title, but I have no such intentions.
“Lord Spencer, I’m not entirely sure this would be a wise path to walk down,” I say firmly.
He looks further down our path. “Look perfectly safe to me,” he quips, eliciting a smile from me.
As I gaze around, seeking answers, my eyes land on a nearby lavender bush in full bloom, surrounded by white butterflies fluttering from flower to flower.
The memory of my mother holding a bundle of lavender for me to smell as a child floods my mind. Her smile radiates warmth, making me feel safe and secure. The familiar scent fills my nostrils, washing over me with a strange calm. Is it a sign of some sort?
With the image of my mother guiding me through the garden, surrounded by the scent of lavender, I release my fears and hesitations, surrendering to fate.
“Alright, Tuesday,” I agree, embracing the uncertainty of what lies ahead.