String of Fate

Chapter Forty Four

When I was younger, I believed that the school holidays were the worst times of the year, especially the summer and winter. Any holiday had been bad since it had meant that he would have been in the same house as me. Lord Woodley. We'd known each other since I was born. Fifteen years, to be exact. They had been long years. We'd been betrothed for that amount of time, too.

I hated that time. Apart from when he was in school, we may as well have shared the same household. We were next door neighbours. The Earl of Woodley and the Earl of Worthington, our fathers, had been great friends, agreeing on the betrothal as soon as our mother's had concocted the idea. My brother and Percival, who were the same age, had been sent to the same boarding school and were now the Earl's themselves now that our father's had passed on, leaving our mothers to ensure that we were married soon after my sixteenth birthday.

Two days in fact.

Whether I had a string or not.

I hated the idea. I liked Percival as a person. He was lovely, and handsome. He did have a lot of women wanting him, even if he was betrothed to me. A large part of me loved him, but, it was just as a brother. It was like him and Edward were twins, and I had two older brothers instead of one. That part of Percival I loved, but I wasn't in love with him.

"Hello, this is where you are hiding, Flora." My cousin, Elizabeth, stated, walking into the library, where I had been successfully hiding from everyone for the past hour. She glided across the room to the window seat where I sat, her Primrose pink dress hiding her feet. She took the other end of the window seat, watching me closely. She knew my feelings on the matter but could not understand them. She was free to marry whomever was at the end of her string. "I know you are against marrying Lord Woodley, however, I also know that you are still going to marry him because it was what your father wished before he passed on. Since you are going to be spending the rest of your life with Lord Woodley, would it be so bad if you spent some time with him now, and not hidden away in the library of his house?"

"I suppose that it wouldn't be. I just wonder why it had to be an arranged marriage. I am the youngest of six, surely the others should also have an arranged marriage." I wondered aloud, turning to the window and looking at the sky. "Why am I treated differently?"

"Your mother and father knew that Lord Woodley had a son the same age as Edward and they thought that they wouldn't be around, so, they wanted to ensure that you were with someone of good standing." Elizabeth explained. It was understandable. I had already lost my father before my thirteenth birthday. Marrying Percival was the only thing that my father had asked of me, therefore, I would do so.

"I know all that. I just thought that the idea of an arranged marriage was old fashioned in the 1800's." I spoke. Surely in the year 1818, arranged marriage was not needed as people now acknowledged that the string linked the destined ones together.

"Please, do not panic. You and Percival will be brilliant together. I feel that you will have a happy marriage." She informed me, also turning to the window. I was staring at the sky, but she was looking somewhere else. She patted my knee, grabbing my attention. "Oh, look, Flora! The hunt is returning! We should go and join them for lunch."

"Oh, good. Food will be served."

"You do realised that every girl without a string that resides in England wishes to marry your betrothed." Elizabeth pointed out as we headed from the library.

A part of me wished that I was one of those girls.

After humouring my mother and Elizabeth over the late lunch, I managed to slip away from everyone and back to the library. Elizabeth and her sister, Daisy, had been having an in depth conversation with my mother and Percival's mother whilst Edward and Percival had been deep in a game of cards, the rest of the hunting party leaving soon after the food had been finished. I did not think that they had even noticed my leaving.