In her time here, Charlotte had managed to visit her once, and Dorothy wrote to her most weeks, but it wasn’t the same as seeing them all the time in London.
I miss them.
“I think this one would suit you much more, Frederica.” Honora’s words broke through Frederica’s thoughts.
With her mouth around a bite of cake, she couldn’t answer her aunt as Honora swept toward her. Instead, Honora swept the cup and plate out of her hands then dragged Frederica to stand.
“What are you doing?” Frederica struggled to ask around her mouthful of cake.
“It should be yours, dear.” Honora turned Frederica to the window that she was using like a mirror and held the gown in front of her. “What do you think? It suits you, doesn’t it?”
The cotton was the palest of pinks, offering a soft hint of color without being overly strong. It was a beautiful dress indeed, and because of Frederica’s soft complexion, it complimented her blue eyes and her light brown hair very well indeed.
“You shall have it.”
“Aunt, I could not. You have paid for it for yourself.”
“And I wish you to have it.” Honora insisted, thrusting it toward Frederica when she tried to hand it back. “You live off such a small amount here. It’s right you should have a treat.”
“Aunt, that is very kind indeed. Thank you.”
Honora blushed warmly. She turned away to look at the dresses again though clearly her attention was caught by someone beyond the window.
“Oh, it looks like we have some letters today.”
Frederica didn’t pay attention. She returned to her seat, admiring the pink gown.
It was unlike anything her parents would have purchased for her. They would have chosen the most fashionable dress, one that may have even been too revealing. Frederica liked this dress so much in comparison that she sat there smiling at it quite ridiculously.
“A letter for Lady Frederica,” the butler’s voice made Frederica stiffen.
She looked up as the butler walked into the room. He handed the letter straight to Frederica.
She wasn’t sure if it was the handwriting or the scent she noticed first. It was not Dorothy’s or Charlotte’s handwriting which meant someone else knew she was here.
“Pungent,” she whispered as the butler returned to the doorway. The cologne on the letter made her gag as it had done so many times before.
In an instant, she could have been back, trapped in that library as Lord Wetherington moved toward her, trying to force a kiss from her. Her hand shook around the letter.
“Could it be from your parents?” Honora asked, clearly sensing Frederica’s unease.
“The messenger did not leave the name of a sender,” the butler explained.
Honora thanked him one last time then he left the room. As the door closed behind him, Honora scurried so fast toward Frederica that she was in danger of tripping on the hem of her gown.
“I know this scent,” she whispered to her aunt, certain by the wide-eyed look on Honora’s face that she could sense Frederica’s fear.
“Is it him?” Honora asked. When Frederica didn’t answer, she nodded. “So, it’s him. Maybe do not open it, dear —”
Yet Frederica could not hold back. If Lord Wetherington had discovered her hiding place, then she had to know.
She tore open the back of the letter and unfurled it with her trembling hands. Her eyes shot down the letter, taking in every word as, at her shoulder, Honora stood reading too.
My dearest Frederica,
Did you think you could hide from me forever? Did you think that I would never discover where you have hidden yourself away?
Love can travel great distances. Even down to Cornwall and into cottages. It will not divide us.
