Rejected

Chapter 5

Delilah was glad to finally find some peace. The three days after the encounter with the Prince were a whirlwind of activities planned by Cecilia's new found friends. Delilah was already losing count of how many events they had graced. Even her evening walks would have to be cut short because she had 'another' dinner to attend to. Part of her was miffed at having to socialize every moment of her stay; her face was starting to hurt from all the smiling, but most of her was glad Cecilia was finding such success. Cecilia could smile through every catty barb sent her way and find something of common interest even amongst the dullest of company so it wasn't surprising she was becoming popular.

Delilah had found her own little intimate group of acquaintances which she joined when in a larger gathering. Some of them were young debutants lost in the crowd of people unable to etch their own identity. They were being led by poor guardians who would either set them loose without a word of proper guidance or mollycoddle them until they were ready to break under the pressure. Delilah found herself taking these young women under her wing and was glad to find herself be a source of comfort for them.

As Delilah realized that the sun was ready to disappear beneath the mountain range she closed her eyes. It would be a beautiful sight but even thinking about it pained her. Her memories linked to this particular sunset were vile enough to make her completely despise the beauty.

Sunsets made her think of rejection and the Prince who was the source of it. She hadn't seen him since the day they met in the rose garden and she was glad. His actions towards her seemed friendly but she could not shake the feeling that he was probably mocking her in his head. She was even more confused about what the Prince recalled about her. Did he even remember her? He hadn't as yet hinted at past events and yet he had followed her around with such persistence that she wondered.

Delilah had made the decision long ago that regardless of how the Prince behaved with her she would feign complete ignorance about their past. Any taunts he might potentially send would be discarded instantly. She had planned to meet the Prince as one might a complete stranger and Delilah was pleased she had met her goal with success. At least he would never feel she was 'retrying her luck' with him.

"My Lady, walkin' with ones eyes open ain't not as overrated as you seem to think," An amused voice reached her and Delilah opened her eyes. She felt herself grow warm as she realized not only had she had been walking with her eyes closed but someone had caught her at it.

She looked down and saw the source of the voice.

Sitting on one of the architectural rocks in the garden was a wizened old man. He was wearing a beige coloured, loose, knee length shirt over black breeches; the typical outfit worn by the gardeners.

"Not fond of plant life, eh?" The man gave her a toothy grin.

Delilah was horrified to be accused of being a plant hater.

"Of course not, Sir," She spoke hurriedly.

"Sir," The man's eyebrows rose in surprise, "I ain't worthy of being called Sir by a high born, noble Lady like yerself. Call me Jeeves," The man continued before Delilah could tell him otherwise. "Just messing wit yeh before, I've seen yeh around the gardens, my Lady. Yeh're the las' person I'd accuse of hatin' my garden."

Delilah beamed at him. She noticed she had reached an unexplored part of the gardens that was definitely not green lawns. The soil was uneven and brown, prepared for cultivation. She could see some of the plants were already peaking out in the March weather.

"Is this from where the castle kitchens receive their produce?" Delilah spoke as she eyed the vegetables patch carefully.

"Aye, all ye 'erbs and wines and the food stuff. Right under my feet yeh can see Belladonna and White sage."