Camelia laughed softly, fighting the tears that threatened to fall. “Oh, I cared, at first. Those whispers hurt, but I learned that some rules should be obeyed, some should be treated as guidelines, and some, as my mother taught me, should be broken altogether. So, I chose to break the ones that tried to cage me.”
Pamela’s gaze dropped to the path.
“What about you, Pamela? What rules do you want to break?” Camelia probed.
“I don’t know who I want to be. I don’t even know what I like. The Duke’s schedules tell me what to do, but not… who I am,” Pamela mumbled.
Camelia’s heart ached for her. “That’s a start, Pamela. Let’s find out together. What else do you love to do, even if it’s not on the schedule? Something that gets your heart pumping and makes you feel alive… apart from sketching?”
Pamela’s eyes lit up when Camelia mentioned her love for sketching. “You remember?”
“Of course I do.And I always will!”
Her fingers twisted in the ribbon of her bonnet as she tried to hide her blush. “I… I have to admit that I truly hate embroidery. It’s tedious, and my stitches are awful.”
“Oh! I agree with you on that. I always loathed embroidery classes!”
Pamela’s lips quirked up in response.
“Now, what is it that you love?” Camelia prompted
“I love horses and art. I watch the horses from the stables, but riding lessons have never been an option for me.”
“Horses?” Camelia stopped behind a blooming rose bush.
“Yes, why? Is it not ladylike?”
“Oh, no, Pamela. Horse riding is wonderful! And you’d look splendid riding across the fields. I can work with this.”
“Do you truly mean that, Your Grace?” Pamela was practically beaming, and Camelia soaked in her happiness.
“I do! Why not ask the Duke for lessons? He’s reasonable, and he’ll listen if you tell him that it’s important to you.”
Pamela’s face fell at the mention of the Duke. “He barely looks at me, Your Grace. He’d say it’s frivolous, a waste of time. But…”
“Yes?”
“If you believe that Father will change his mind, then perhaps you could help me speak to him about it?” Pamela asked nervously.
Camelia’s heart swelled as she grabbed her hands. The heavy fragrance of the roses enveloped them and sweetened the moment.
“Of course I’ll help you, Pamela. How about we talk to him together? That way, he’ll see how much this means to you.”
A tentative smile broke through Pamela’s usual glumness. “You’d do that for me? Even after… what I said in the kitchen?”
Camelia squeezed her hand gently. “Yes, Pamela. I meant what I said. I really do want to be your friend. We’ll get you those riding lessons, and we’ll find more things that make you shine.”
They smiled at each other, and Camelia felt their relationship begin to blossom like the flowers in the magnificent garden. The moment made her think about her sisters. Pamela became a priority to her, as they did.
She set her thoughts aside as they continued strolling through the garden.
“Your Grace… I was wondering. Would you still… look at my sketches sometime?”
“Of course I will! I’d love to see your sketches, Pamela. I promised that we’d draw together, remember? And maybe we can even sneak some charcoal into the schedule. What do you say?”
Pamela beamed. “I’d like that, Your Grace. I hope he’d say yes to horse riding! Father is so strict about his schedules and rules.”
“He’s strict, I know, but it’s only because he loves you so fiercely. I see it in the way he watches you—always protective, always caring. So, I’m certain he’d let you chase what makes your heart soar! We just need to find the right way to ask him and show him how much it means to you. Let’s plan it together, shall we?”
