The Willow's Diamond (on a break)

Chapter 3

All eyes were on Grace Fawn, whispers started to stir, and she stood halfway in the middle of the throne room like an outcast. Her body was frazzled, even though her hair and dress were perfectly placed. She needed to get out of there, get her mind straight. She needed her body to move. Swiftly, she turned and took the exact pathway Elosie took not too long before. She headed towards her carriage, not knowing someone was trailing behind her.
"Are you done already, my lady?" One of the coachmen asks.
"No, take the carriage home. Unhitch Poppy. I'll be riding her," Grace commanded as one coachman hopped off to unhitch one of the horses.
Without another word, Grace lifted herself onto Poppy, assembled the reins, and steered out of the palace courtyard. Only to catch a glimpse of Anthony Bridgerton about to grab her before she rode off.
"Do you know where she is heading?" Anthony ordered.
"Likey to the willow forest, my lord," The coachman responded.
"Unaccompanied?! Where is her father, lady's maid, siblings?!" Anthony shouted as the coachman looked clueless. "Never mind," He muttered, turning to one of the Bridgerton coachmen. "Tell them I had a meeting I needed to attend," Anthony spoke, unhitching his horse nearby.
"Of course, my lord." The servant emitted as Anthony rode off in Grace's direction.

She tried to keep it together. The wind kept her tears at bay as she raced against the breeze, taking her to the place she spent her time the most. Her secret willow garden was hidden by a large willow tree with a small clearing of wildflowers and a small pond.
Much like the story of Rapunzel that was recently released, how she was tucked away in a tower having the tower hidden by nature all around. Reaching her destination, she slid off the horse, unclasping the necklace that suffocated her, ripping off her tiara, and discarding both into a satchel attached to the horse.
Tears started to stream down her face, forcing her french makeup to run, exposing the bruises on her cheek and chin.
"How am I assumed to get a husband when my own father causes her daughter to hide like a shallow turtle looking for an escape," Grace cried, descending against her favorite tree. After a minute or two, she reached over and drew out a small wooden crate hidden in the crevasse of the tree. A few items were stowed in that box. Since she was out there often, she kept a spare cloak, a bottle of ink, a quill, her diary, and a peasant dress. Feeling a chill through the air, Grace reached for her cloak and wrapped it around herself to keep warm. Gazing off into the flower field and playing with her signet ring on her finger, she suddenly noticed Poppy had stopped grazing and was alert.
"What is it, girl?" Grace sat up with concern. Standing up to calm Poppy down, she heard another horse nearing closer and closer.
"Oh, merde," She gasped, quickly shoving her items back in the wooden crate and into the crevasse of the tree. Clipping her cloak on and pulling up her dress with a few hair pins, Grace put one foot in the stirrup she heard her name.
"Lady Fawn!"
She ignored it and continued to throw her other leg over the saddle. "Come on girl click, click."
"LADY FAWN!" the voice yelled a mere 20 feet away. Grace's eyes closed in failure and sighed.
"Merde..." She whispered to herself. Gathering the reins and making a break for it. Slapping the reins, the horse neighed, and broke into a sprint. Not quick enough, a pair of gloved hands seized her off the horse before she could run.
"I beg your pardon, but who do you think you-" Grace huffed, turning around to face the individual, whom it turned out to be Anthony Bridgerton.
Lovely.
"I am? Well, it is clear you are perfectly fine," he scoffed.
"As a matter of fact, I am or was until you scared my horse away!"
"Scared it away!? It was clear to me that you were trying to escape, and apparently, it has backfired," He grinned.
"I see you find this funny, my lord?"
"Oh, extremely, I-" Anthony spoke, losing his train of thought when he noticed Grace, fully taking her in.
"What? lost your tongue?" Grace said, putting her hands on her hips.
"Ahem, yes, uh, no. Your uh stockings," He blushed awkwardly.
Grace looked down and shrugged, "It's just a little mud, nothing life-threatening," She laughed. Anthony lifted his eyebrow, looking at her up and down, and she squirmed under his eyes a bit.
"I must be going, it is a long walk home," Grace smiled and curtsied.
"Your face..." He spoke, trailing off and catching Grace's attention.
"My face?" she questioned, then her eyes went big. Forgetting that her french makeup had been ruined.
Anthony walked closer, putting his hand on her cheek and chin to examine the bruises she had forgotten about.
"I-"
"No. No, you didn't." Cutting her off, examining more intensely at her chin. He saw her shift. Grace's body tensed and became a wall. Her eyes went from sad to cold, with an emotionless face.
"Good evening, my lord. It appears that I must go retire, goodbye." Grace spoke, taking his hand off her face, giving a brief bow, and walked away, positioning her hood on her cloak.
He did not follow.
He did not chase.
He could only stare as she trekked home.