"If you want to identify me, ask me not where I live, or what I like to eat, or how I comb my hair, but ask me what I am living for, in detail, ask me what I think is keeping me from living fully for the thing I want to live for." Thomas Merton

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Chapter Three

"Remember, not a word to Faith about seeing Olivia," Cassian reminded Kit. "I will speak to Finn at dinner this evening. Something tells me he will want to see Miss Murray again."

Kit would comply. But what was Cassian planning to do should Finn and Miss Murray begin courting? Would not Faith notice a familiar looking red-headed woman at the dinner table?

"There you both are!" cried Faith the minute Kit and Cassian stepped inside Norwood Cottage.

Faith moved quickly down the stairs to meet them in the foyer. Faith appeared very hot and bothered. She wore a light, pale green dress to cope with the August heat. Though her cheeks were still flushed and her dark, curly hair was falling out of her bun.

"I have prepared a bedroom for Doctor Ward," Faith told Cassian. "Well, the servants did. Mr Wade refuses to let me do a thing in my condition." She looked down at the small protrusion between her hips.

The village doctor estimated that Faith was about four months along in her pregnancy. Kit was certain his mother would be excited about it when Cassian's surgery was over and done with and she never needed to fret about lead poisoning again.

Cassian put an arm around Faith and kissed her temple. Faith visibly relaxed. Cassian then began to lead her towards the drawing room. Before they were gone, Faith looked over her shoulder. "Oh, Kit," she called, "you have a visitor in the library." She smiled at him.

A visitor? Kit had not been expecting anyone. Kit's mind immediately took him to Olivia, totally unwillingly. He did not like the swell of hope he felt in his stomach. It was foreign and unsettling. His fond memories of Olivia did not outweigh the anger he still felt towards her.

Kit made his way down the hallway to the library. Just as soon as he put his hand on the doorhandle, he had a thought. Faith would not be fretting about a doctor's accommodation if a Pendleton was in her house.

Kit pushed open the door to see a familiar face in a rather odd setting.

There were four people in the library. Kit's two younger sisters, Lucy's little friend, Violet Barry, and His Royal Highness, Prince Edward.

Lucy and Violet were sitting together on an armchair, a fairy tale book between them. Emma sat up at the desk with Edward with her china tea set she had been gifted last Christmas.

Emma was pouring imaginary tea for a prince. Were it not so embarrassing Kit would laugh.

"Your Royal Highness," remarked Kit in disbelief.

Kit's time at Cambridge had been relatively quiet. He had attended his classes and completed his tasks. He took full advantage of the education his father wanted for him. Of course, when news got around that the King's younger son would be attending the university, there was rather a lot of excitement.

Kit hardly saw him. The prince was three years younger than he was, and so they shared no common lectures; not that the prince was very studious. In fact, the assassination attempt had occurred on one of the few days Prince Edward had actually been present on school grounds.

Kit was still unused to his official title. It seemed strange that a once unwanted orphan was a knight. Either way, Kit would have been content with the prince's friendship.

Kit and Edward had become friends over the course of the summer. Kit had been summoned to London at the beginning of July, and he and Cassian had learned that Kit was being awarded a knighthood for his bravery by the King. Since then, he and Edward had been in frequent company.

Edward had more recreational time, or so he claimed. He had perfect elder siblings to see to the royal duties.

"I am incognito," replied Edward humorously. He gestured to his plain clothing. "It is just a little too hot for me at the minute, Miss Emma. Do you mind if I drink it in a little while?" Edward spoke to six year old Emma tenderly.

Emma nodded, her dark curls bouncing.

"Is that why my sister is serving you tea and not our butler?"

Edward grinned and joined Kit at the library door. "I prefer the imaginary kind anyway."

"What are you doing here?" asked Kit. "I thought you were going back to Cambridge for the beginning of term?"

Edward grinned sheepishly. "I have decided not to go back to Cambridge this year."

Kit frowned and closed his eyes. Perhaps it was because she was on his mind, but he was immediately reminded of something Olivia had once told him.

"Education is a right, and not a privilege. Or at least it will be if I have anything to do with it."

Kit opened his eyes. Taking his father's pocket watch from his waist coat, he checked the time. "Lucy, it is nearly five o'clock. Violet ought to be going along home now."

Both girls jumped off of the arm chair and returned the book to its shelf, before quickly heading towards the library door.

"I do wish you could come to play at my house, Lucy," Violet said forlornly as she covered her blonde braids with a pink bonnet. "I do not understand why Mama will not let you."

Lucy grimaced as she showed her friend the door. She changed the subject away from her sore spot. Lucy was well aware of why she was not allowed to play at Violet's house. She was not stupid; she heard what people said about her. "Let us go and find Mr Wade so he can fetch your carriage." The two girls left the library.

"Why is she not allowed to play at her friend's house? Is she really so poorly behaved?"

Edward was clearly trying to distract him. "No, she is an angel. Mrs Barry is just a prejudiced old bat," Kit snapped. "Emma, can you please go and feed Cat?"

Emma scooted down off of the chair excitedly, calling for their dog, Cat.

"I did not know you have a cat," remarked Edward.

"He's a dog," replied Kit. "But that is not what we need to discuss. Why would you give up your studies?"

Edward sighed exasperatedly. "What exactly must I study for? I am not going to be king. Charles is. He is the good son."

Kit could not pretend to be privy to the inner relations of the royal family, but it was clear that Edward and his father did not have the most loving relationship. Edward's elder brother, Charles, was clearly the preferred son. Charles was being groomed to be king. Edward's elder sister, Alice, like Charles, was also adored by her father, and the country, too. Alice was very diplomatic and level-headed, and was one of the few the king trusted for advice, which was why she had not been married off yet.

"Education should be a right, and not a privilege, but it is not. Unfortunately, that is not how the world works. Those who have the means have the opportunity to better themselves. You have an opportunity, sir!"

"Call me Edward, for goodness' sake. You are three years my senior," Edward muttered. "Someone else can have my place. And I did not come here to be lectured or criticised. If I had wanted that I would have endured an evening with my father."

"You have an opportunity to better yourself."

"To do what?" challenged Edward. "I do not know what I am meant to do, Kit. I know I certainly will not find out by completing a degree in something I am not passionate about. We cannot all be perfect sons like you. Has completing your studies helped you to learn what you are meant for?"

A perfect son?

Kit had attended university because it was an opportunity afforded to him by his father. Cassian wanted Kit to receive the very best education, and Kit was immensely grateful. Only eight years earlier he could not even write his own name.

Kit had studied business because Cassian had wanted him to. Kit had returned home to Derbyshire because he was going to help his father run the textile business.

That had been the plan. It had always been the plan. Nothing else was ever discussed. Cassian and Kit would run the business together. Of course Kit would comply. He always agreed to whatever his parents wanted for him.

Kit was the perfect son. "Olivia was right."

Eggshells, Olivia had called it. She had accused him of walking through life on eggshells, eager to please, and terrified to disappoint.

Olivia was absolutely correct. Kit had a feeling that Olivia was frequently correct about things. Kit walked on eggshells around his family. Whatever they wanted, he would go above and beyond to exceed their expectations. He loved them so much that he so feared their disapproval.

But what was Kit meant for? What was he supposed to do with his life? What were his passions? What were his ambitions? What would make him happy?

"Who is Olivia?" asked Edward.

Kit's train of thought stopped and his attention returned to his friend. Had he said her name out loud? "Olivia ... well, she was arrested today for attempting to vote in the election," Kit said bluntly.

Edward smirked. "Parliament would have conniptions if they knew."

Kit grinned, knowing he was right. But Olivia probably had more brains in her temple than half the men voting today had in their whole heads. "But it is exactly her character. Even when I knew her when she was a girl, she did exactly as she wanted. She followed her passions, and fought for what she believed in, no matter the consequence."

"You knew her?"

"I did," Kit confirmed. "I still know her, and I was terribly rude to her today. I was angry at her, but it turns out she was only observing what I already knew." In her own blunt way, Olivia was only trying to help him.

"I am rude to Alice all the time and she always forgives me. I would not fret. The fairer sex are well aware of the faults of men."

"Do you fancy going out for a ride?" Kit proposed, recalling the address Olivia had given to Finn in order to write to her aunt. Kit had not done one rebellious act in all the years he had been a Kensington. He was about to start.

---

I apologise that this chapter isn't as long as I usually make them. I'm switching POV's next chapter so I needed to end it here.

I'm really having flashbacks to the end of Year 12 writing this. At 18, nobody knows what they want to do with their lives. About now, Year 12s all over Australia are cramming for their final exams. How you perform on your exams (and your subjects all year) results in what we call an ATAR score. You need certain scores to get into certain courses at university. A top score of 99.95 will get you into medicine. Anything below 50 and Year 12s will want to curl into a ball and die. Your whole year leads up to that one text message of a four digit number that will determine what will become of you next year. 

If you are about to sit your exams and you're reading this, let me tell you there's life after VCE/HSC. Your ATAR does not define you. Come next year you won't ever hear that word uttered again. 

Take it from someone who was an anxious wreck sitting my exams. I wish I had someone telling me that your ATAR is not your whole life. And do you know what? I don't even remember what my ATAR was! 

When I finished Year 12 I wanted to be a teacher, but I went into psychology instead. I completed a psych degree and finished knowing that's not what I want to do. So I found my way back to teaching. You can change your mind, and uni will always be there.

Good luck! Get some sleep! Plan your essays. Read the questions properly! (I tutor a year 12 who was making mistakes on her psych prac exam because she wasn't reading the questions properly!)

Wattpad was a bit of an escape for me during my Year 12 exams. I hope this little trip to Regency England helps you relax in any way!

Vote and comment!!