A Broken Heart's Redemption

by Abby Ayles

  “But is it not rude to make remarks like that about a man we shall never marry?” Lucy asked.

  “It is how we are made, men and women,” Clara replied. “God put us on this earth to go forth and multiply. And that would hardly work if we found one another repulsive, now, would it?”

  “But God made us man and woman, too,” Lucy replied, “to join in one flesh as husband and wife.”

  Clara nodded. “And I can join in one flesh with Edmund for all of my life. That does not mean I will never admire another man. Simply that I must do so from afar.”

  This was another alien concept to Lucy. She had battled so much with her own morality, her own virtue. She had never considered that perhaps the battle was fine, it was only surrender that was a problem.

  And yet... Clara had a fiancé who suited her very well. Her future was not threatened by lust. She could look at Prince Ferdinand, admire his physique and his presence, and then go home to a man who met her personal needs. Lucy was not in the same position. She had nobody to meet her needs. When she laid eyes upon men like Duke Perry, Lord Jones, or Prince Ferdinand, all she could do was surrender herself to her feelings of lust. Nobody would satisfy them. She was fighting a losing battle against her own desires, and she would need to fight it her whole life.

  Nevertheless, she could not help but continue to observe Prince Ferdinand over the course of dinner. His every movement was as graceful as his sister's. His aura drew her eyes to him every time they wandered across the table. His body enticed her. Perhaps her mother was right. It would be a fantastic thing to be married to such a man. And she could confidently say that he would not be after her money.

  As the party drew to a close, Lucy wondered whether she could perhaps meet with the Prince, and get her first step towards courting him. Whether the courtship led anywhere or not, she needed to start it and fast. She may never have another opportunity to get close to Prince Ferdinand. This could be her one and only chance. And it was better to seize the opportunity and not like him, than to miss the opportunity and find out he was suited to her.

  Leaving the dining room, she realized there was just one door in and out. So as the remaining nobles followed Princess Elisaveta to the drawing room for digestifs and sweets, Lucy waited patiently outside the door. Prince Ferdinand did not emerge with the rest of the party, but she knew he could not stay in there forever. He would have to come out, and through that door.

  Lucy knew this would be more difficult than courting a standard noble. She had not even been able to exchange words with him at dinner. They had exchanged a glance but once. They had not only a class barrier, but a cultural barrier, and possibly a language barrier between them. But something told her he would be ideal. He was so magnetic... so naturally appealing.

  No... she could not sell herself on this. She had to get to know him, piece by piece, just like any other man. She had to give him a fair chance. She could not afford to inflate his worth before even meeting him. He would have to prove himself, like any other man.

  Trying to keep her mind blank, she waited in the hallway patiently. And, surely enough Prince Ferdinand emerged. He seemed a little flustered, but was smiling happily. Lucy could smell the scent of brandy on him. She caught herself trying to excuse it, to tell herself that it was fine because he was a royal at a dinner party. She reminded herself to hold him to the same standards as anyone else.

  He locked eyes with her and smiled a wide, roguish grin. “Hello,” he said, his accent heavy, but not quite as rough or harsh as she had expected. “May I help you?”

  “Sorry to intrude, Your Highness, but I could not help but notice Your Highness at the head of the table, and was wondering if I might be so bold as to talk with Your Highness?” she said, feeling her face grow hotter and hotter as he scrutinized her.

  “No, I am used to it,” he said. “You know my sister, do you not?”

  “I do, Your Highness,” Lucy replied, “Her Highness is quite charming.”

  “As are you,” Prince Ferdinand said.

  Lucy blushed and giggled. “I... Why thank you, Your Highness,” she replied. She was not sure what else to say. She had never met a man who spoke quite like that before, who was quite so straightforward.

  “No need to thank me, it is true,” he said, “and please, call me Ferdinand, I want to hear you say my name.”

  Lucy averted her gaze. “Of course... Ferdinand...” The request struck her as a little peculiar, but he was foreign, and a Prince. Perhaps he was a bit of a peculiar man.

  “Are you engaged to be wed, Lucy?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “I do not exactly believe in marriage.”

  “Oh, neither do I. Not exactly,” he replied.

  As he spoke he was moving closer to her. Perhaps... Perhaps he genuinely was interested? Lucy had not held the hope very high in her heart. After all, he was a Prince. A minor Prince of a European country, but a Prince nonetheless. She could smell not just the brandy, but a rich cloud of perfume and an underlying scent of pure masculinity, musky and rich. He placed a hand on her waist and ran it down to her hip. She froze. She was not at all sure what to make of this now. Especially after Lord Jones...

  This could be perfect. Prince Ferdinand was already showing an interest in her which most men would not. Her heart skipped as she realized that a literal prince now had both hands upon her. He drew her in close to his body. Looking up into his eyes, she saw them glowing, resplendent with passion. His hands gripped her firmly and drew her even closer. She gasped slightly, feeling suddenly panicked.

  Prince Ferdinand moved in to lock lips with her. This was it, the moment of truth. She had a prince kissing her. She could make him hers. She moved her mouth on his, trying her hardest to impress him. She felt him trying to pull her body even closer, trying to close the gap between them. She stood firm. A kiss was one thing, but she would not press her body up against a man's, not even if that man was a prince.

  After a few attempts to get her up against his strong torso, Prince Ferdinand stopped pressuring her, instead gently sliding his hands up and down her waist, caressing her gently, sending shivers down her spine. But... the shivers did not feel good.

  Lucy was not sure why, but this was absolutely nothing like kissing Lord Jones. This was wrong. This was scary. Prince Ferdinand was far more forceful, far more interested in ways which Lord Jones had not been. Lucy felt on her guard, knowing full well that he could at any moment attempt to force her body up against his.

  She felt a tongue press against her lips and parted them to let it in. But it did not feel right. She did not want to carry on. She did not love this man. She did not even know him. Her body wanted him, but her mind was calling her crazy and her heart was scared.

  Lucy broke the kiss and pulled her head back. She could not do this. It was wrong. It was not like when she had kissed Lord Jones, when her body had a mind of its own and had carried her to passionately kiss a man who she related to on an intimate level. This was just a passing fancy, a slight admiration for a man who was, indeed, admirable. But admiring someone was not cause enough to do... this.

  Prince Ferdinand stared at her, a little perplexed, before moving in for another kiss. Lucy turned her head to one side so he could not touch her lips. He moved to that side, and she turned her head again.

  “Do not be like that,” Ferdinand said in a low voice. “I know what you want...” His hands gripped her even more firmly than before and he pulled her towards him.

  She realized that the smell of brandy and perfume, which had been somewhat interesting at first, was now just repulsive. She could not. This was a terrible idea.

  Planting her hand firmly in the middle of his chest, Lucy shoved him away. Her push was wildly ineffective. This tall, broad man just stood there. She may have well been trying to push a mountain over, or push a hole in the sky.

  Prince Ferdinand's hands let go of her nevertheless. He looked down into her eyes, once again scrutinizing her face, trying to make
sense of what was happening. He reached his hand out towards her waist tentatively, and she slapped it. Prince or no prince, he had to understand she was not that sort of a woman.

  He seemed to suddenly understand, his eyes growing wide in realization. “I am sorry,” he said, “I thought you wished to... never mind...” Although he was apologizing, Lucy could detect a hint of aggression, of indignant anger from him. “I shall... I shall see you some other time,” he added. There was barely a hint of nervousness in his voice. Just anger and confusion.

  He turned around and began to walk towards the staircase. Out of the dining hall doors another young woman emerged. Lucy recognized her from the party. Her dress was much more loosely laced than earlier, and her hair was in disarray. She smiled eagerly at the Prince. He smiled back apologetically, shrugged, and headed upstairs.

  Her head bowed in shame, the young woman marched down the hallway, towards the front door, pushing past Lucy without making eye contact.

  Chapter 16

  She was not quite sure what had just happened. But she felt overwhelmingly relieved that she had stopped it. Prince Ferdinand had definitely not been interested in courting her. That was not how anyone treated a woman they loved and respected. And how could he love or respect her anyway? He had just met her in that hallway. No, Lucy had a feeling something terrible could have happened if she had not rejected him. Especially after seeing that young woman leaving, so ashamed and scared...

  She realized what the Prince had meant with everything he had said. He had thought she was like that girl. He had thought Lucy was waiting to seduce him, to join him in his bedroom, or indeed on the dining room table. He had thought she was the sort of girl who would sacrifice anything for the chance of marrying a prince. After all, why else would she have waited for him, alone, in the empty hallway of his house? Why else would she have allowed him to kiss her like that?

  Her heart was still beating a thousand times a minute, hard against her ribs. But this was not like with Lord Jones. This was painful. It was not who she was. It was not what she wanted to do with her life. And yet there she stood, alone in a hallway, having almost allowed herself to be ruined by a man who would never even consider marrying her. The thought of how much she had almost lost was terrifying to her.

  She wondered whether she ought to leave straight away. After all, what good could come from the evening now? She could rejoin the party and remain there in shame, with everyone knowing what she had just done. Or she could rejoin the party and nobody might have noticed her absence, but she would have to live with her nerves on edge, constantly on lookout for Prince Ferdinand, terrified of even making eye contact with him again.

  But she knew that leaving would look even worse. She had barely been absent a few minutes. Few would suspect that anything had happened in that time. It was barely enough time for a bathroom visit. If she went home, however, then people would be able to speculate about what she had done between leaving the party and heading to her coach. And she knew exactly what they would assume she had been doing.

  About to head back to the party, she spied a figure at the bottom of the hallway, just outside the door to the drawing room. He held his hat and cane in one hand, but his coat had already been taken. He was watching her intently.

  It was Andrew. Lucy smiled and waved. Then she paused. He was smiling now, but for a brief second, she had thought he was glaring at her angrily. And that was the last thing she wanted, after all which had happened that day. Another angry man... a man she loved.... no, a man she respected, nonetheless. She was not ready to handle that just yet. She resumed her waving, forcing herself to smile again. He waved back and began to walk towards her.

  “Lucy! How wonderful to see you here,” he remarked.

  She curtsied. “It is wonderful to see you also,” she replied. “I trust that you are well?”

  He nodded. “Yes, I am. I hope you are as well... Your makeup is looking a little smudged. Just had dinner?”

  Glancing at her reflection in the window, Lucy realized that her lipstick had been smeared by Prince Ferdinand, leaving a pink mark around her lips. That could not do. Anyone who saw her looking like that would immediately know what she had done.

  Lord Jones handed her a handkerchief. “Here, just wipe it off,” he said softly, almost as though he knew what she was thinking, what she had done. And yet he did not comment on it. He did not chastise her. He just spoke tenderly to her, and offered the handkerchief.

  “Thank you,” she replied quietly, taking the handkerchief and wiping all her lipstick off.

  “Much better,” he replied. As he took the handkerchief, his hand lingered on hers before releasing her fingers, and tucking the handkerchief into his pocket out of sight. Fire coursed through her body.

  Lucy wondered how much Andrew had seen, how much he knew. Normally he would confront someone directly if they seemed to be acting suspiciously. He would mock them and tease them. He would have no mercy. She felt that if he merely suspected her of improper behaviour, he would already be bullying her, at least in jest. But now he was being... very sensitive. Very careful. Almost too careful. As though he knew about the turmoil she was suffering.

  “I did not know you were invited,” Lucy remarked, trying to take her mind off that matter.

  Lord Jones nodded. “Oh, I was. I wrote back saying I had no time for dinner, but would stop by for some drinks. Speaking of which, I think we ought to make our way to the drawing room. Before the others realize you're out here trying to seduce a prince, and begin a witch hunt for you.”

  “Is it so obvious?” Lucy said shyly.

  “I am just surprised you thought standing in a hallway would work,” Lord Jones replied. There was a slight undertone of pain to his voice, as though he was trying to stay cheerful, yet still felt betrayed.

  “I suppose I thought I was being clever,” Lucy replied.

  “And what would you have done, had you managed to seduce a prince?” Lord Jones asked.

  Lucy paused and shrugged. “I am not sure.”

  “Because I thought you were committed to not marrying,” he added.

  “I have,” Lucy said, not wanting to lose credibility. “But... I still find men attractive. I cannot help that.”

  Lord Jones seemed a little crestfallen to hear this. “And I suppose Prince Ferdinand is all you had hoped?” he asked.

  Lucy shook her head and laughed a little. “I dare say I was right all along. Princes are overrated.”

  Lord Jones nodded and smiled in relief. “I do believe all royalty and nobility is overrated,” he replied.

  “Then why did you agree to come to a dinner party hosted by a Prince and a Princess?” Lucy asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Andrew briefly looked caught out, but then composed himself and shrugged. “I do not enjoy socializing, but I do not dislike it either. It is something which I do on my own terms. If I am invited somewhere, I may go if the time suits me and there will be good drink.”

  As they walked into the drawing room, Lucy was relieved to see that nobody was looking towards the door. Nobody had noticed her absence, or their arrival. It would have looked odd, the two of them arriving at the same time. But then perhaps she could have claimed she had went to the front door to greet him?

  She began looking around, wondering if it would be for the best to keep Andrew and Clara away from one another. She was not sure how they may react upon seeing each other.

  “What is the matter?” Lord Jones asked. “Are you looking for someone?”

  “It is... I am not sure how to say this,” Lucy replied.

  “Just say it,” Lord Jones insisted, “it shall not bother me.”

  “Clara is here,” Lucy said cautiously. “I thought you were not invited because I thought Her Highness had only invited Clara. And I would rather that the two of you did not meet, seeing how hostile you are towards her.”

  “Oh... I see...” Andrew replied. “I shall do my utmost to avoid her,” he added. He looke
d more than a little uncomfortable and he too scanned the room before making his way to the table where the liqueurs were being served.

  Lucy, after looking around and not seeing a bright blonde head anywhere, followed Lord Jones and accepted a small glass of her own. “Really, you ought to have a digestif after dinner,” she said.

  Lord Jones smiled. “Then I suppose this is my dinner, and I shall have another one to follow it,” he swallowed his drink in one solid gulp. It was quite clear to Lucy that he was nervous. Again, she was surprised. He was normally so bold and brazen to everyone. It was only in front of her that he let that mask slip. But now it was slipping, not because of her, but because of another woman. Because of Clara Neal. She was beginning to see what he was doing.

  Whenever he was in front of a member of society he had no care for, he exaggerated that disinterest to a point of disrespect, to push them away. But when a woman he had affections for was present, he was unable to disrespect her. Unlike most people, who have a standard public face that is moderate and likeable, he only had a rude mask, which he could not bear to wear in front of someone he cared about. And so he was forced to reveal his true self. Which he seemed to hate.

  Lucy found herself stifling a yawn. It had been a long day. She felt a little tired, but she did not want to leave Lord Jones's side. He was just the sort of company she needed. She stepped a little closer to him. After what had happened with Prince Ferdinand, she wanted to feel safe again. She wanted to feel protected again. She watched him as he quietly drank his brandy and watched the room.

  He did not have the same look in his eyes as Prince Ferdinand. He did not look proud or satisfied, like he was surveying his belongings. He looked... disdainful. And bored. Prince Ferdinand had looked like a bull overlooking his cattle. Lord Jones looked like a well-fed cat watching mice scurry around him.

  “Why are you clinging so close to me?” Lord Jones remarked, as the servant poured his third drink. He sounded a bit warmer and happier all of a sudden, as though the earlier events had been forgotten. “You are like a little girl hiding behind her mother's skirts.”