Lucy spent the few hours after her encounter with Lord Thompson recovering from having to talk to Lord Thompson. It felt like she had been drained of all her lust for life and left with only her contempt for humanity and a deep desire to sleep for the rest of the afternoon. She even made her way to her bedroom, where she collapsed on top of the covers and lay, staring at the ceiling, wondering how someone can be so stubborn, and worrying that perhaps there was some truth to his insults.

She was not sure why, even though she had no desire to marry, his accusation that she was not marriageable had hurt her so badly. Nevertheless, it had. Then, it struck her. Marriage was a way of demonstrating love, commitment, and faith. When a man said she was not worthy of marriage, she understood him to be saying she was unworthy of being loved, committed to, or bonded in the eyes of God. It was fine for her to choose not to marry. But the suggestion she was not able to hurt her deeply.

Hearing the clock strike one, she got up and made sure her hair was brushed neatly for lunch. It felt odd to only pull the brush a couple of inches before her hair released it. Although she still liked the way her hair looked, she was beginning to feel it was a little alien. As though the face in the mirror were no longer her own.

Stopping her on her way downstairs, her mother asked for her attention before lunchtime. “Lucy, I need to talk to you,” she began.

Lucy was fairly sure it was about Lord Thompson. She followed her mother to some seats in the front room, fully expecting to be told off for insulting him so much.

“Did you like Lord Thompson?” Lady Fitzgerald asked.

Lucy shook her head. “Not at all.” She sighed, feeling a little sick just thinking about him.

“He seemed rather taken with you,” Lady Fitzgerald replied. “Would you prefer Lord Jones?”

Lucy shook her head again. “I am not sure if either of them is right for me,” she replied.

Her mother just looked out the window for almost a minute. Lucy knew better than to get up. Lady Fitzgerald would say when she was done.

“Who do you want to marry, hypothetically speaking?” she finally asked. “Lord Thompson or Lord Jones?”

“I do not want to marry...” She wanted to say 'at all'. But she did not have the courage to do so. She did not have the courage to hurt her mother like that. “... either of them,” she concluded.

“Well what do you want from life?” Lady Fitzgerald asked.

Lucy felt as though the opportunity had been placed right in front of her. Now was the time. Now was her chance. All she needed to do was tell her mother that she was scared of marriage. That she had been hurt by Duke Perry and she was not ready to move on. That, between a bad marriage and spinsterhood, at least a spinster could lead a life of her own. But she could not bring herself to. She knew it would cause her mother so much undue pain.

She fidgeted a little. “To be fair I am not sure what I want. But if I do not know what I want, then how am I supposed to commit to something now?”

Her mother sighed wearily. “Lucy, you cannot put this off forever.”

“Not forever,” she replied, “just until I know what I am doing.”

“Or until you have recovered from the heartache Duke Perry gave you?” Lady Fitzgerald asked.

Did she know? Did she really understand? Lucy felt a surge of excitement, a sense of deep relief accompanying it. Perhaps her mother really could support her through all this. She smiled meekly.

“Lucy... I know Duke Perry was a good man, but we all miss out on great opportunities. You will only miss out on more of them if you continue to pass up suitors due to the flaws you perceive in them. Give them a chance and some may match up to Duke Perry,” her mother continued.

Lucy felt her heart sink. No, her mother did not understand. Not in the slightest. Did she really think it was about comparison? That Lucy was so naïve as to think that her first true love would be her last? No, it was all the opposite. She feared that she would love like that again, be made a fool of again.

“But mother,” she replied, “I cannot make a decision that will affect my entire life if I am not certain of it.” Her mother did not and could not understand her. At least she could play into her mother's own ideas and use them to her advantage.

“A young woman often has to make decisions which will affect her for years to come. Who and when to marry, how many children to have, whether she wants to adopt... You cannot predict the future, Lucy. You cannot tell what fortune will cast your way. All you can do is make the best choice and persevere with it,” her mother explained.

Oddly, Lucy realised this advice actually did make sense. Even if her mother did not understand her, she had somehow said something relevant to Lucy's own feelings.

She could not predict the future. She could not make a decision and just assume it would work out. And perhaps her decision to avoid marriage at all costs was the wrong one. It was a commitment, after all, and much like a commitment to marriage could go wrong, it was possible her commitment not to marry could go wrong in ways she could not even begin to imagine.

Lucy was still not certain. She understood what her mother meant, and it even applied in some ways to her own thoughts, but... it felt more complicated than that. It felt too complicated. If she couldn't truly predict the future, which nobody could, then what was she supposed to do? Just go with the flow and hope that she ended up somewhere nice?

That felt like too little control to her. She sighed. “I shall think about that, mother,” she finally replied.

Lady Fitzgerald seemed more than a little relieved. She wrapped an arm around Lucy's shoulder and hugged her a little. “You think about it, then. You will never regret giving something a little more consideration.”

Lucy nodded.

“Anyway, I have some more good news for you,” her mother said. “A letter has arrived announcing the marriage of Thomas Byrd and Julia Blackmore.”

Lucy was more than a little surprised. “Did that announcement arrive this morning?”

“It did. Isn't it lovely? It is nice to see something like that working for them, especially when so many people who go to the Mission end up losing their betrothed.”

“I feel it is a little rushed, though,” she replied.

“Anything would be too rushed in your eyes,” Lady Fitzgerald said. “They have been engaged for over a year now.”

“But for most of that he was in India,” Lucy said. “They barely know one another.”

“They have been writing, which is more than enough to get to know someone,” Lady Fitzgerald insisted.

Lucy wanted to correct her. She wanted to point out that people tell all sorts of lies in letters, and that even people in India with the Mission could get letters saying one thing, when the complete opposite was happening back home. But she decided to let her mother have this one.

Lady Fitzgerald seemed genuinely thrilled by weddings, more so than by any other sort of major event. She had a strong romantic streak and it always came out for a wedding. At least Lucy knew where her own fairy tale ideals had come from.

As they waited for lunch to be served, Lucy could only think of how odd it was to picture those two marrying. Sure, they were deeply in love. But... it seemed so strange nonetheless. They had not seen one another for a year, and they had been separated a few times before that. Somehow during Thomas's short stays in England they had courted, become engaged, and now were marrying. But in total they had probably only spent a couple of weeks together. Could two people really grow to love one another over a couple of weeks and some letters?

“Are you alright?” Lord Fitzgerald asked. “You seem a little confused.

Lucy shook her head. “She ought not to. He ought not to,” she said quietly.

“Ought not to do what?” her father asked her.

Lucy looked up. “Thomas and Julia. They are getting married too soon. I do not even know if they have thought it through properly.”

“Lucy, it is their relationship and their marriage. I am sure they and their parents have given it plenty of thought and discussed it at great length,” Lady Fitzgerald replied.

“But... What if they are mistaken? What if they are not both ready?” Lucy asked.

“Do not say such nonsense,” her father replied. “One is ready for marriage as soon as one comes of age, the only question is whether the person is suitable.”

Lucy sighed. “I suppose so. I just... I would like to make sure my friends are doing well.”

“I understand. It is a bit of a shock to you. Perhaps talking to them would help. Shall we visit the Byrds later today?”

Lucy nodded.

* * *

Following lunch, Lucy went to the Byrds' home, hoping someone would be in. She did not have much time between the end of lunch and four, when she would need to be home in time to get ready for tea at Lord Jones's house. But she needed to talk to someone and put her mind at ease.

Both Antoinette and Thomas were apparently still staying with their parents for a couple of days. Duke Perry was back in Devonshire on important business and Julia was home with her parents. It would be the perfect opportunity.

Sitting down on the sofa with Antoinette, waiting for Thomas to come and see them, Lucy voiced her concerns. As she spoke Antoinette held little Beatrice Perry, seven months old, on her knee.

Antoinette shook her head. “Lucy, I understand that you had a very bad experience, but you cannot base your every life decision on something one person did to you.”

“I just feel that it is not right, that people can be deceptive...” Lucy said, shaking her head.

“Then who do you think is deceiving whom?” Antoinette asked with a chuckle. “I thought you liked and trusted both my brother and Julia.”

Lucy paused. “But it's not just that sort of deception. What if they are different to how they believe each other to be?” Lucy was half distracted by the baby, feeling a pang of regret that she would never have one of her own. But it was a price she needed to pay.

“I beg your pardon?” Antoinette asked, confused.

“We all put on an impression for other people, so what if they want to marry the impression, and then when the real person is revealed they are trapped in a loveless marriage?” Lucy explained.

“Lucy, you are just focusing on one person again. Do not ruin your life, or anyone else's, on one person,” Antoinette repeated.

“People ruin their lives over one person in marriage, though,” Lucy replied.

Antoinette shook her head in frustration. “It is different. It is... like eating cake. You may take a bite of many different cakes. Some may taste nice, some may taste terrible, some may even make you sick. But eventually you will taste a cake that is absolutely delicious. Would you not order yourself a slice?”

Lucy shrugged. “I suppose. But what if that cake is spoiled inside?”

“That is a risk you take when eating it,” Antoinette replied.

“I do not understand why you would even wish to, though,” Lucy said. “Why not just eat something else?”

“And that is fine if that is what you wish to do. Foolish, but fine. However it is not your place to tell others what cake they want to eat,” Antoinette said.

“Precisely,” said Thomas from the doorway.

Lucy looked up. “Oh, how long have you been there?” she asked. “I am so sorry if you heard me say anything insulting. I did not mean to insult you, I just—”

Thomas shook his head. “I am not insulted, Lucy, I am just confused that someone as old as you are could be so naïve. Do you really believe people get married so quickly as to not find out the things that matter about the other person?”

“Sometimes they do,” Lucy countered.

“But generally they do not. And do you think that in the years we have known one another, Julia and I have not learned the important aspects of each other's character?” Thomas asked.

Lucy shook her head. “I am sorry for doubting. I suppose I should not assume so readily.”

Thomas nodded. “You are correct, but I forgive you. But Antoinette is also correct. You cannot let that one experience dictate your entire life.”

Lucy sighed. Why was it that nobody was willing to listen to her? Were she and Andrew the only voices of reason in the whole of England? Or were they both being as ridiculous as everyone said they were?

“You look like you could do with a break from your day to day life. There are actually some new people in town,” Antoinette said suddenly. “We shall be seeing them tomorrow, if you would like to come.”

“New people?” Lucy asked. “Are they staying or...?”

“Just passing through, though they may buy a holiday cottage. You may find this fun: they are a real Prince and Princess. A brother and a sister,” Antoinette explained. “And we have been invited to see them, seeing as I am a Duchess.”

“A Princess?” Lucy asked. Her only impression of princes and princesses came from fairy tales. “A real Princess?”

“A European Princess, so perhaps not quite as glamorous as an English Princess, but royalty nonetheless,” Antoinette explained.

Lucy was still in slight awe. Her fascination with fairy tales had been repressed ever since she found out about Duke Perry’s betrayal. But now, with the possibility of meeting a Prince and a Princess being very real, she felt her illusions flooding back to her.

Visions of dancing with the Prince took over her mind. Perhaps a fairytale was not completely out of the question after all?