Post by bloodedyautja on Nov 30, 2007 16:56:33 GMT -5
ok so a story I had to right for one of my GCSE's and it took so bloody long to write I might aswell slap it here for the hell of it. and the name of it? hell knows why it was originally called mystery story as the GCSE work part but bit of a boring name and irrelevant so thats the new title. enjoy.
Evil has many faces
The wheel caught in one of the many roots under the gravel. I had been warned that the journey home would be more difficult. The roots crept silently, unseen, beneath the gravel, waiting for their prey as if they did not wish anyone to leave the grounds.
Mounted high on a lonely hill the house keeps its lonely vigil. Through the small window of the carriage it was clear the few houses we had passed had long ceased to be lived in, their peeling paintwork and broken tiles no longer keeping the wind and rain at bay. Once well tended, the surrounding fields have grown wild and free. We had not passed another carriage or walker for hours. A small squeeze of fear knotted my stomach at the fact no-one was around to help. With luck we would reach the house without incident.
Suddenly, I was jarred out of my thoughts as the carriage hit yet another pot hole, one of the hundreds down this track. Straightening up in my seat I could see the chestnut bays their bodies shining, steam pouring from every inch of them in the early winter morning. Ears flattened and heads bent low it was as if their spirits could no longer take the strain of their physical bodies.
The ground was barren in the winter frost it would be many months before new green shoots appeared. But the garden was far from bare, the grass glistened in the early morning light with the frost that had coated it the night before, like diamonds scattered upon the ground.
Suddenly the swaying slowed and we came to a rest. I went to push back the curtain which had been covering the door. Without warning the door swung open moments before my hand touched it. Nervously I lift the hem of my skirt and step out of the carriage. Beneath my feet the ground crunched. As I turned I see for the first time the steps which lead up to the gothic doors which bared the entrance to the house.
I stand unable to move, taking in what little I can see of the building. It looms over me at least six storeys of old brick and wood, stretching at least nine rooms wide. The rooms to either side of the entrance are filled with luxury I have only dreamed of. Outside had been beautiful but, neglect now shows in every part. The portico has spider webs covering the underside of it. No attempt has been made to mend the damage the frost has caused to the wooden window frames which are now cracked and broken from the harsh winter weather. The columns hold the only sign of life. Covered in ivy, much of it baring young green shoots as if, only recently the attempt to stop its growth had been halted.
A sharp rattling sound snapped me out of my daze. I turn to see the carriage disappearing round the right side of the house. Walking over to the middle of the driveway I pick up my two bags which have been left there. They are not heavy. I was told I need nothing in my new home and had packed just a few things to remind me of home.
Climbing the steps I notice a large garden blocked from the main house by a large hedge. An ancient cherry blossom that would be beautiful in spring looks like old gnarled hands reaching over the statues. The statues have ivy climbing over them. A few have limbs missing, one even has its head missing as though it was blasted off by a gun. Topiary which once had been lovingly clipped now looks like grotesque figures lining the path.
I turn back to the house. As I approach it a cold wind whispers through the trees, swaying the shadows cast by the red light of dawn on the house. Shivering slightly at the bloody glow, of hands gauging the walls I reach the door. Set to either side is a statue of a chimera, a strange a choice as it fits with none of the other so carefully selected statues around the garden. The only similarity is in the neglect. The damage from rain and hail makes them seem all the more threatening. I take the bronze knocker, straining against the weight made more unwieldy from the months of neglect, and knock. The sound is unusually loud in the silent morning but the door swings open on its own accord revealing a dark hallway. Stepping in the door slams shut behind me, enveloping me in darkness.
A candle hisses into life near my face, I can’t help but give a small squeal of fright. It is followed by a low chuckle which leaves me frozen to the spot with nothing but a lonely tongue of flame. Finally after what seemed like hours the hall becomes bathed in light banishing even the thought of shadow.
Looking around I count two crystal chandeliers and over fourteen lamps blazing around the walls of the hall. It is all so beautiful, paintings hang from the walls, gleaming white marble which reflects my shape covers the floors, a rug is set in the middle, spun from gold thread. To either side are two enormous pairs of wooden doors leading into adjacent rooms. The only thing that shows the neglect of this place is the thin, undisturbed layer of dust that lines everything, as though nothing has been touched in months. That in itself seems more frightening.
A voice snaps me out of my daze. “My apologies, I did not mean to frighten you so”. Spinning around I find myself staring at a gentlemen standing near the door, it was no wonder I’d missed him when I came in. The apology was well said but the tone of it was anything but sorry. He began to walk to towards me and I suddenly couldn’t do anything but stare at the ground. “You see,” he continued as he walked calmly, almost lazily towards me “I have always had a love for theatrics”.
He was dressed in clothes that showed nothing but wealth. Rich black velvet was made into a waist length jacket with silver buttons and high collar which framed a white mound of cravat. A silver tie tack with a sapphire set into it pierced the whiteness of his throat. The jacket, clearly tailor made fit elegantly to his body that was nothing but masculine. The trousers, black as the jacket which are so tight they are like a second skin slide smoothly into knee high leather boots. It is hard to tell when one material ends and the other begins. I’ve never seen such a man and daren’t look at his face for I know I would be lost. A man of such high standing, I wonder what he would ever see in a young lady such as myself. I can see him as he approaches and despite my efforts I feel a blush begin to crawl its way up my throat, I suddenly feel very small in his presence. Being his future wife I know it is silly but I suddenly feel uncomfortable.
He has stopped in front of me, a hand reaches into my vision and he places his fingertips under my chin. I feel him try to lift my face to look at him, it’s a gentle touch but with everything of control in it. Lifting my face I silently gasp. This man is unbelievably handsome. Black hair falls in thick waves to his shoulders, looking softer than the velvet he is wearing. It frames a face so well sculpted it looks like a greek god put his essence there. High cheek bones fall down to lips that look like they’d be softer than silk, his skin so pale you can almost see the veins running down his neck but it glows with an unnatural sense of health and his eyes, you could fall into them. Blue, as dark as the sky of dusk, so close to black, yet the unmistakable truth that they are the richest, clearest blue I have ever seen in eyes. I’m snapped out of my daze as I feel his hand move to she side of my face a thumb tracing the out line of my lips leaving a trail of fire where it touches, it falls away and he says “Come my love let us dine.” It seemed such a sudden change in manner it left me standing there dumbstruck. He walks to the other side of the hall before stopping and looking back, seeing me unmoved he returns taking my hand he gently lifts it to his mouth and places a soft kiss on my knuckles, I let out a small shuddering breath and realise I had been holding the whole time had been walking away. Speaking softly he says “Please, allow me to lead you there.” I nod lightly, to entranced to say no to anything he might of suggested, and follow.
3 weeks on I’m standing in front of a dressing table in nothing but a corset and undergarments. Women servants scurry in and out of the room whilst several other are fussing around me. My auburn hair is piled atop my head in an array of whirls surrounding a bun, locks curl artfully about my face.
In the few weeks the house has changed. At first, I had worried of any request of anything in the house. I apparently had nothing to worry about, he thought nothing of any request.
By half way through my second week the place had been cleaned and servants were now a many in the huge building. I’d even been taken to the Duke of Gloucestershire’s house for an evening ball and no second thought was made of him insisting I have the dress of the most current fashions. It was well remarked about my future husbands sudden change in being. Rumor from talk with the high standing ladies, who instantly accepted me when the men left for a morning hunt, said he had not left the house since 11 months ago. He’d gone home 2 months after his wife’s death, the servants were seen leaving just 2 weeks later. In over 5 months no-one heard anything from him until 3 months before my arrival when he had written to the bank about a transaction of a dowry, this I know to be for our marriage.
Reaching for one of the small dried dates upon my dresser my hand was firmly tapped by an elderly servant who instantly looked ashamed. “’scuse me miss. I don’t mean no offence but it is bad to eat before the wedding. You want to look good in the dress on this happy day.” I simply nodded and smiled, I’d soon found out the Duke didn’t like me conferring with the servants I had been quite surprised at his violent out burst just a few days ago when I went to assist a young maid to clear up a vase that had fallen as I’d past it.
My make up having been done I stand up and go to the centre of the room as maids gather the dress to stop it falling on the floor and bring it over to me. I lift my arms as it is slid over my head, the silk lining sliding gently over my skin. Then I hold my arms out to my sides as the bodice of the dress is jerked tightly, making me gasp, and is tied at the bottom of my back in a bow. I lower my arms the glass beads covering the white bodice, in swirling pictures of ivy and flowers, gently pressing into my arms. The skirt falls in layer of sheer fabric to the floor, lifting my feet pure white shoes are slipped on and satin ribbons are laced to mid calf as long un attached sleeves of white silk are on my arms flaring slightly to the tips of my fingers are slid on and the tops tied in line with the bodice.
A knock on the door has me turning in the direction of it and the several of the younger maids squeal and then clap their hands over their mouths in shock of doing so. I smile widely anyway, despite the Dukes dislike of any conference with them, except for an order, they quickly realized that I wasn’t as stuck up as other household ladies, such as those I had met at the dinner, and something along the line of friendship had now built between us all. I signaled them to a hush by placing my finger to my lips whilst trying to calm the smile on my face. The escort to the wedding had arrived.
“Come in.”
At once two young men open the doors simultaneously; an elderly gentleman walks in dressed in expensive clothes. I have met this gentleman several days ago. The Dukes father had not been in England for over twenty years and many had assumed that the last of the Dukes relatives had finally passed away or had lost all contact. The reaction of many of the neighbors when folds of the brothers, sisters, cousins and the Dukes two parents and even his Grandmother had been arriving gradually over the last week. I smile pleasantly, as I take the arm offered to me, to the Dukes father who would be handing me to the Duke at the doors of the private wedding chamber. I pause just once to pick up a bouquet of white roses from the dresser.
Walking through the halls to the ground floor where a carriage awaits me I couldn’t help feeling nervous. This was it, the day where I would be joined to the one person I would be with forever. As if sensing my thoughts, with out break stride he says.
“ Are you nervous my dear?”
I had objected to the title until I realized he called his 2 daughters the same and I had been told he only called ladies he considered close to family by that term. A soon to be brother in laws wife had never been called by it. I took it as a compliment as I was happy to be accepted so quickly. Biting my lip lightly before remembering my make up I hesitate briefly before speaking.
“I can not help it,” I shake my head gently at the idea “it is silly, really.”
Tightening his grip slightly he pats my hand with his own, a form of comfort. Wearily he speaks, with a few pauses and I realize the walk is quite long for one of his age.
“Come now my dear, you do not reach my years. Which,” laughing quietly before continuing “I may assure you are quite a few. Without being able to know when something is bothering a young lady.” Leaning in closer so I could hear him better and chuckles “I do have 2 daughters of my own.” Despite the feeling of my stomach twisting in so many knots I feel close to faint I can’t help but give a small laugh. This gentleman is nothing like any of the older more somber gentlemen I had met at dinners over the past weeks and I instantly took a shine to him. In fact all my worries of not being accepted where as false anything I’d ever thought, everyone in the Dukes family instantly accepted me and I had many discussions with them over the past week. Really I was quite surprised, the Dukes family was one of the most rich families around and I sooner expected the pompous attitude I had seen in the light of the friends of the Dukes homes than the happy, open people I met. I speak suddenly having realising I have been walking in silence and we are now almost at the entrance to the house.
“Well I can’t help but feel somehow,” I sigh lightly “I mean any offence at all. You’ve all been so kind. But I keep thinking that I have no choice in this, I know it was arranged I know that but,” I pause again looking at my soon to be Father in Law, I expect to see anger at the start of my confession. Instead I see nothing but an unflinching look of someone who’s giving their undivided attention to you.
“I...” I stutter to a stop as I realise I’ve forgotten what I was about to say. I shake my head which is still in a whirl that I’m about to be married.
We’ve reached the coach and he indicates with his hand.
“Please, let us continue this on the journey to the Cathedral. It would not do well to keep my son waiting. He is already nervous enough.” I smile lightly to myself, in the time I had known the Duke I could never see him being nervous. I take the hand offered to me and get into the carriage holding up the hem of my dress to stop it catching on anything. Settling into a seat I start to talk, in actual sense I am babbling, a bad habit that shows just how nervous I am.
“Well as you know none of my family are at the ceremony,” he nods lightly and I continue “and I feel as though there is no support there for me should I need it.” I look down shyly at my lap “I know it is silly you have all been so nice to me and I do want to marry the Duke, I do.” I look up a the gentleman and realise I am smiling from the silliness of it “But…I...” I’m stuttering and at the same time trying not to laugh at the seriousness of the gentleman’s face as I realise just how silly I’m being. He suddenly breaks out in a grin and I can not help but burst out laughing. He chuckles along with me for a moment before placing a hand lightly over my own, a fatherly gesture.
“My dear is this all that has been worrying you?” he smiles and I feel better at realizing he doesn’t think me silly. “Of course you’re nervous, anyone would be. Your family is here, we’re your family or soon to be. We will look after you. I love you as closely as my own children and they think you as a sister. I remember at my own wedding.” Chuckling lightly a smile in his eyes showing the un-withered youngness of spirit that years ago his body would have matched “If I remember rightly my father had a good friend I think was the Duke,” pausing he corrects himself “no it was a mayor of the town. Now his daughter…well, she was quite something and my father insisted I marry her. I personally had no choice in the matter and had just one meeting with her accompanied by mine and her parents before our wedding.” Turning to me “Well we got on civilly, was a lovely woman in herself but we never really knew each other, it wasn’t till several years later we built the love we had for the last few of our years together.” Suddenly snapping out of the talk of memories as he looks out the window he exclaims “Goodness me look at the time we’ve spent talking, we are almost here my dear. Now you must not forget to put your veil on.”
I pick the veil up and have put it on just in time as we pull into the front of the cathedral where several of the Dukes family are mingling, mostly the bridesmaids and I can see the Dukes mother. The only man there is a servant who’s to open the door of the carriage. We have pulled up and I’m suddenly feeling sick with nerves the door swings open and the Dukes father steps out and waves away the servant and offers me his own hand to help me out of the carriage. Taking a deep breath I lift the hem of my dress and take the offered hand stepping out into the sunlit entrance to the Cathedral.
I’m hit by gasps of delight and am quickly surrounded by the bridesmaids.
“My goodness you’re beautiful”
“Your so lucky, my what a lovely hair style”
“Your lucky day, I can only guess you’re as excited as I am”
I’m surrounded by bubbling soon to be relatives. Complimenting me and commenting on the wedding day and how amazing it is going to be. Being overwhelmed I stand there smiling before the Dukes mother calls attention to everyone by gently pushing through them to me.
“Now girls, please. That is quite enough, it is a happy day but give the poor girl some room,” looking at me seeing my now slightly blushing face she snaps lightly “look now you’ve got the poor girl all a dither with your nonsense”
Smiling pleasantly “Oh really it is fine. It is all so lovely that you’re here with me.”
She nods slightly impatient but hardly surprising seeing the trouble she’s had ordering the dress and sorting out the wedding with the Duke in the past week.
“That’s lovely dear but the ceremony is starting soon we must be read for the music.” Turning to the other six girls, four sisters and two cousins of the Duke, she starts to give out orders of how we are to walk in “Now Beatrice and Francesca you will walk in a pair in front of the bride, carrying your roses and will then split off to the side of the church you are walking on.” They both stand together so no mistakes are made, taking my arm she steers me and the Dukes father to stand in a pair near Beatrice and Francesca.
“Now dear you and my husband will walk after them be sure to leave a gap between you.” Turning back to the remaining group.
“Dilys,” looking round she sees Dilys nearby admiring the horses drawing the carriage. “Dilys!” marching over she grabs her arm and pulls her back to the rest of us muttering.
“Now really you’re a grown woman at least act like it today, we’re trying our best to make this the perfect day and you have to make it difficult. Now Elizabeth,” waving her over with an impatient movement of her hand “you are to go with Dilys after the bride and instead of going in opposite directions…” seeing Dilys looking off into space “… for goodness sake Dilys,” She says in an exasperated tone, getting her attention back she continues “now like I was saying you will go with Elizabeth and both of you will walk past the bride and groom, my husband having already passed her to your brother and stand beside Francesca on the left side of the church.” Checking everything was being followed to her orders she continues. “This will leave you Martha and you Alice to come last and you will walk to the right to stand next to Beatrice on the right. Well that’s all I think,” nodding lightly as if confirming something to herself “yes, yes that’s all. Now we wait.”
As if on cue the band inside the church starts and the doors swing open, after a brief scuffle of everyone getting in their places we start walking and my stomach knots itself into every knot known. It’s almost a dream I’m walking down the centre of the pews the standing people have turned all their eyes on me. I see the cream of the dresses of the girls in front of me. As they part off to either side I see my future husband he is dressed in the most amazing suit. A deep cream silk shirt, covered by a cream waist coat with an almost exact copy of beading on the sides as my dress, is stained only by the darkness of his shoulder length hair as it falls on the collar. The blue jacket of the grooms is mimicked in a cloak of blue velvet that falls around him, the almost midnight color makes his eyes seem even more mesmerizing. The style of trousers that hasn’t changes since I’ve met him are still literally like a second skin, only instead of his usual black attire they are also a dark blue that clashes brilliantly with the cream of the waist coat, the boots as always are black but are made toady of some softer material than his customary leather. I have little time to wonder on it because I’m at the altar, my arm has been slipped from the crook of the Dukes father and I place my hand in the Dukes as I take the two steps up to meet him. The music has stopped and the silence seems almost deafening before the priest starts talking.
“Dearly beloved we are gathered here today to welcome the union of the two people you see standing here. In a moment I will take them both through to the confession room for them to unite with no sins upon them. Before I do so is there anyone here who does not wish for this marriage to take place?”
I feel a slight prickle of tension on the back of my neck and it takes all my will power to not turn round and check the faces of those present for a hint of them halting the ceremony. No-one comes forth and the priest smiles.
“Well that is very good. Will you both please follow me into the confession room,” indicating to the right of the church “over here, so that we may clear the discomfort that any of your sins burden you with.”
I walk beside the Duke very aware of everyone watching us, the priest opens the door and holds it open as I walk in. I catch a brief glimpse of the congregation within the church pews before the form of the Duke blocks them from sight as he enters the room and the priest swings the door shut.
Evil has many faces
The wheel caught in one of the many roots under the gravel. I had been warned that the journey home would be more difficult. The roots crept silently, unseen, beneath the gravel, waiting for their prey as if they did not wish anyone to leave the grounds.
Mounted high on a lonely hill the house keeps its lonely vigil. Through the small window of the carriage it was clear the few houses we had passed had long ceased to be lived in, their peeling paintwork and broken tiles no longer keeping the wind and rain at bay. Once well tended, the surrounding fields have grown wild and free. We had not passed another carriage or walker for hours. A small squeeze of fear knotted my stomach at the fact no-one was around to help. With luck we would reach the house without incident.
Suddenly, I was jarred out of my thoughts as the carriage hit yet another pot hole, one of the hundreds down this track. Straightening up in my seat I could see the chestnut bays their bodies shining, steam pouring from every inch of them in the early winter morning. Ears flattened and heads bent low it was as if their spirits could no longer take the strain of their physical bodies.
The ground was barren in the winter frost it would be many months before new green shoots appeared. But the garden was far from bare, the grass glistened in the early morning light with the frost that had coated it the night before, like diamonds scattered upon the ground.
Suddenly the swaying slowed and we came to a rest. I went to push back the curtain which had been covering the door. Without warning the door swung open moments before my hand touched it. Nervously I lift the hem of my skirt and step out of the carriage. Beneath my feet the ground crunched. As I turned I see for the first time the steps which lead up to the gothic doors which bared the entrance to the house.
I stand unable to move, taking in what little I can see of the building. It looms over me at least six storeys of old brick and wood, stretching at least nine rooms wide. The rooms to either side of the entrance are filled with luxury I have only dreamed of. Outside had been beautiful but, neglect now shows in every part. The portico has spider webs covering the underside of it. No attempt has been made to mend the damage the frost has caused to the wooden window frames which are now cracked and broken from the harsh winter weather. The columns hold the only sign of life. Covered in ivy, much of it baring young green shoots as if, only recently the attempt to stop its growth had been halted.
A sharp rattling sound snapped me out of my daze. I turn to see the carriage disappearing round the right side of the house. Walking over to the middle of the driveway I pick up my two bags which have been left there. They are not heavy. I was told I need nothing in my new home and had packed just a few things to remind me of home.
Climbing the steps I notice a large garden blocked from the main house by a large hedge. An ancient cherry blossom that would be beautiful in spring looks like old gnarled hands reaching over the statues. The statues have ivy climbing over them. A few have limbs missing, one even has its head missing as though it was blasted off by a gun. Topiary which once had been lovingly clipped now looks like grotesque figures lining the path.
I turn back to the house. As I approach it a cold wind whispers through the trees, swaying the shadows cast by the red light of dawn on the house. Shivering slightly at the bloody glow, of hands gauging the walls I reach the door. Set to either side is a statue of a chimera, a strange a choice as it fits with none of the other so carefully selected statues around the garden. The only similarity is in the neglect. The damage from rain and hail makes them seem all the more threatening. I take the bronze knocker, straining against the weight made more unwieldy from the months of neglect, and knock. The sound is unusually loud in the silent morning but the door swings open on its own accord revealing a dark hallway. Stepping in the door slams shut behind me, enveloping me in darkness.
A candle hisses into life near my face, I can’t help but give a small squeal of fright. It is followed by a low chuckle which leaves me frozen to the spot with nothing but a lonely tongue of flame. Finally after what seemed like hours the hall becomes bathed in light banishing even the thought of shadow.
Looking around I count two crystal chandeliers and over fourteen lamps blazing around the walls of the hall. It is all so beautiful, paintings hang from the walls, gleaming white marble which reflects my shape covers the floors, a rug is set in the middle, spun from gold thread. To either side are two enormous pairs of wooden doors leading into adjacent rooms. The only thing that shows the neglect of this place is the thin, undisturbed layer of dust that lines everything, as though nothing has been touched in months. That in itself seems more frightening.
A voice snaps me out of my daze. “My apologies, I did not mean to frighten you so”. Spinning around I find myself staring at a gentlemen standing near the door, it was no wonder I’d missed him when I came in. The apology was well said but the tone of it was anything but sorry. He began to walk to towards me and I suddenly couldn’t do anything but stare at the ground. “You see,” he continued as he walked calmly, almost lazily towards me “I have always had a love for theatrics”.
He was dressed in clothes that showed nothing but wealth. Rich black velvet was made into a waist length jacket with silver buttons and high collar which framed a white mound of cravat. A silver tie tack with a sapphire set into it pierced the whiteness of his throat. The jacket, clearly tailor made fit elegantly to his body that was nothing but masculine. The trousers, black as the jacket which are so tight they are like a second skin slide smoothly into knee high leather boots. It is hard to tell when one material ends and the other begins. I’ve never seen such a man and daren’t look at his face for I know I would be lost. A man of such high standing, I wonder what he would ever see in a young lady such as myself. I can see him as he approaches and despite my efforts I feel a blush begin to crawl its way up my throat, I suddenly feel very small in his presence. Being his future wife I know it is silly but I suddenly feel uncomfortable.
He has stopped in front of me, a hand reaches into my vision and he places his fingertips under my chin. I feel him try to lift my face to look at him, it’s a gentle touch but with everything of control in it. Lifting my face I silently gasp. This man is unbelievably handsome. Black hair falls in thick waves to his shoulders, looking softer than the velvet he is wearing. It frames a face so well sculpted it looks like a greek god put his essence there. High cheek bones fall down to lips that look like they’d be softer than silk, his skin so pale you can almost see the veins running down his neck but it glows with an unnatural sense of health and his eyes, you could fall into them. Blue, as dark as the sky of dusk, so close to black, yet the unmistakable truth that they are the richest, clearest blue I have ever seen in eyes. I’m snapped out of my daze as I feel his hand move to she side of my face a thumb tracing the out line of my lips leaving a trail of fire where it touches, it falls away and he says “Come my love let us dine.” It seemed such a sudden change in manner it left me standing there dumbstruck. He walks to the other side of the hall before stopping and looking back, seeing me unmoved he returns taking my hand he gently lifts it to his mouth and places a soft kiss on my knuckles, I let out a small shuddering breath and realise I had been holding the whole time had been walking away. Speaking softly he says “Please, allow me to lead you there.” I nod lightly, to entranced to say no to anything he might of suggested, and follow.
3 weeks on I’m standing in front of a dressing table in nothing but a corset and undergarments. Women servants scurry in and out of the room whilst several other are fussing around me. My auburn hair is piled atop my head in an array of whirls surrounding a bun, locks curl artfully about my face.
In the few weeks the house has changed. At first, I had worried of any request of anything in the house. I apparently had nothing to worry about, he thought nothing of any request.
By half way through my second week the place had been cleaned and servants were now a many in the huge building. I’d even been taken to the Duke of Gloucestershire’s house for an evening ball and no second thought was made of him insisting I have the dress of the most current fashions. It was well remarked about my future husbands sudden change in being. Rumor from talk with the high standing ladies, who instantly accepted me when the men left for a morning hunt, said he had not left the house since 11 months ago. He’d gone home 2 months after his wife’s death, the servants were seen leaving just 2 weeks later. In over 5 months no-one heard anything from him until 3 months before my arrival when he had written to the bank about a transaction of a dowry, this I know to be for our marriage.
Reaching for one of the small dried dates upon my dresser my hand was firmly tapped by an elderly servant who instantly looked ashamed. “’scuse me miss. I don’t mean no offence but it is bad to eat before the wedding. You want to look good in the dress on this happy day.” I simply nodded and smiled, I’d soon found out the Duke didn’t like me conferring with the servants I had been quite surprised at his violent out burst just a few days ago when I went to assist a young maid to clear up a vase that had fallen as I’d past it.
My make up having been done I stand up and go to the centre of the room as maids gather the dress to stop it falling on the floor and bring it over to me. I lift my arms as it is slid over my head, the silk lining sliding gently over my skin. Then I hold my arms out to my sides as the bodice of the dress is jerked tightly, making me gasp, and is tied at the bottom of my back in a bow. I lower my arms the glass beads covering the white bodice, in swirling pictures of ivy and flowers, gently pressing into my arms. The skirt falls in layer of sheer fabric to the floor, lifting my feet pure white shoes are slipped on and satin ribbons are laced to mid calf as long un attached sleeves of white silk are on my arms flaring slightly to the tips of my fingers are slid on and the tops tied in line with the bodice.
A knock on the door has me turning in the direction of it and the several of the younger maids squeal and then clap their hands over their mouths in shock of doing so. I smile widely anyway, despite the Dukes dislike of any conference with them, except for an order, they quickly realized that I wasn’t as stuck up as other household ladies, such as those I had met at the dinner, and something along the line of friendship had now built between us all. I signaled them to a hush by placing my finger to my lips whilst trying to calm the smile on my face. The escort to the wedding had arrived.
“Come in.”
At once two young men open the doors simultaneously; an elderly gentleman walks in dressed in expensive clothes. I have met this gentleman several days ago. The Dukes father had not been in England for over twenty years and many had assumed that the last of the Dukes relatives had finally passed away or had lost all contact. The reaction of many of the neighbors when folds of the brothers, sisters, cousins and the Dukes two parents and even his Grandmother had been arriving gradually over the last week. I smile pleasantly, as I take the arm offered to me, to the Dukes father who would be handing me to the Duke at the doors of the private wedding chamber. I pause just once to pick up a bouquet of white roses from the dresser.
Walking through the halls to the ground floor where a carriage awaits me I couldn’t help feeling nervous. This was it, the day where I would be joined to the one person I would be with forever. As if sensing my thoughts, with out break stride he says.
“ Are you nervous my dear?”
I had objected to the title until I realized he called his 2 daughters the same and I had been told he only called ladies he considered close to family by that term. A soon to be brother in laws wife had never been called by it. I took it as a compliment as I was happy to be accepted so quickly. Biting my lip lightly before remembering my make up I hesitate briefly before speaking.
“I can not help it,” I shake my head gently at the idea “it is silly, really.”
Tightening his grip slightly he pats my hand with his own, a form of comfort. Wearily he speaks, with a few pauses and I realize the walk is quite long for one of his age.
“Come now my dear, you do not reach my years. Which,” laughing quietly before continuing “I may assure you are quite a few. Without being able to know when something is bothering a young lady.” Leaning in closer so I could hear him better and chuckles “I do have 2 daughters of my own.” Despite the feeling of my stomach twisting in so many knots I feel close to faint I can’t help but give a small laugh. This gentleman is nothing like any of the older more somber gentlemen I had met at dinners over the past weeks and I instantly took a shine to him. In fact all my worries of not being accepted where as false anything I’d ever thought, everyone in the Dukes family instantly accepted me and I had many discussions with them over the past week. Really I was quite surprised, the Dukes family was one of the most rich families around and I sooner expected the pompous attitude I had seen in the light of the friends of the Dukes homes than the happy, open people I met. I speak suddenly having realising I have been walking in silence and we are now almost at the entrance to the house.
“Well I can’t help but feel somehow,” I sigh lightly “I mean any offence at all. You’ve all been so kind. But I keep thinking that I have no choice in this, I know it was arranged I know that but,” I pause again looking at my soon to be Father in Law, I expect to see anger at the start of my confession. Instead I see nothing but an unflinching look of someone who’s giving their undivided attention to you.
“I...” I stutter to a stop as I realise I’ve forgotten what I was about to say. I shake my head which is still in a whirl that I’m about to be married.
We’ve reached the coach and he indicates with his hand.
“Please, let us continue this on the journey to the Cathedral. It would not do well to keep my son waiting. He is already nervous enough.” I smile lightly to myself, in the time I had known the Duke I could never see him being nervous. I take the hand offered to me and get into the carriage holding up the hem of my dress to stop it catching on anything. Settling into a seat I start to talk, in actual sense I am babbling, a bad habit that shows just how nervous I am.
“Well as you know none of my family are at the ceremony,” he nods lightly and I continue “and I feel as though there is no support there for me should I need it.” I look down shyly at my lap “I know it is silly you have all been so nice to me and I do want to marry the Duke, I do.” I look up a the gentleman and realise I am smiling from the silliness of it “But…I...” I’m stuttering and at the same time trying not to laugh at the seriousness of the gentleman’s face as I realise just how silly I’m being. He suddenly breaks out in a grin and I can not help but burst out laughing. He chuckles along with me for a moment before placing a hand lightly over my own, a fatherly gesture.
“My dear is this all that has been worrying you?” he smiles and I feel better at realizing he doesn’t think me silly. “Of course you’re nervous, anyone would be. Your family is here, we’re your family or soon to be. We will look after you. I love you as closely as my own children and they think you as a sister. I remember at my own wedding.” Chuckling lightly a smile in his eyes showing the un-withered youngness of spirit that years ago his body would have matched “If I remember rightly my father had a good friend I think was the Duke,” pausing he corrects himself “no it was a mayor of the town. Now his daughter…well, she was quite something and my father insisted I marry her. I personally had no choice in the matter and had just one meeting with her accompanied by mine and her parents before our wedding.” Turning to me “Well we got on civilly, was a lovely woman in herself but we never really knew each other, it wasn’t till several years later we built the love we had for the last few of our years together.” Suddenly snapping out of the talk of memories as he looks out the window he exclaims “Goodness me look at the time we’ve spent talking, we are almost here my dear. Now you must not forget to put your veil on.”
I pick the veil up and have put it on just in time as we pull into the front of the cathedral where several of the Dukes family are mingling, mostly the bridesmaids and I can see the Dukes mother. The only man there is a servant who’s to open the door of the carriage. We have pulled up and I’m suddenly feeling sick with nerves the door swings open and the Dukes father steps out and waves away the servant and offers me his own hand to help me out of the carriage. Taking a deep breath I lift the hem of my dress and take the offered hand stepping out into the sunlit entrance to the Cathedral.
I’m hit by gasps of delight and am quickly surrounded by the bridesmaids.
“My goodness you’re beautiful”
“Your so lucky, my what a lovely hair style”
“Your lucky day, I can only guess you’re as excited as I am”
I’m surrounded by bubbling soon to be relatives. Complimenting me and commenting on the wedding day and how amazing it is going to be. Being overwhelmed I stand there smiling before the Dukes mother calls attention to everyone by gently pushing through them to me.
“Now girls, please. That is quite enough, it is a happy day but give the poor girl some room,” looking at me seeing my now slightly blushing face she snaps lightly “look now you’ve got the poor girl all a dither with your nonsense”
Smiling pleasantly “Oh really it is fine. It is all so lovely that you’re here with me.”
She nods slightly impatient but hardly surprising seeing the trouble she’s had ordering the dress and sorting out the wedding with the Duke in the past week.
“That’s lovely dear but the ceremony is starting soon we must be read for the music.” Turning to the other six girls, four sisters and two cousins of the Duke, she starts to give out orders of how we are to walk in “Now Beatrice and Francesca you will walk in a pair in front of the bride, carrying your roses and will then split off to the side of the church you are walking on.” They both stand together so no mistakes are made, taking my arm she steers me and the Dukes father to stand in a pair near Beatrice and Francesca.
“Now dear you and my husband will walk after them be sure to leave a gap between you.” Turning back to the remaining group.
“Dilys,” looking round she sees Dilys nearby admiring the horses drawing the carriage. “Dilys!” marching over she grabs her arm and pulls her back to the rest of us muttering.
“Now really you’re a grown woman at least act like it today, we’re trying our best to make this the perfect day and you have to make it difficult. Now Elizabeth,” waving her over with an impatient movement of her hand “you are to go with Dilys after the bride and instead of going in opposite directions…” seeing Dilys looking off into space “… for goodness sake Dilys,” She says in an exasperated tone, getting her attention back she continues “now like I was saying you will go with Elizabeth and both of you will walk past the bride and groom, my husband having already passed her to your brother and stand beside Francesca on the left side of the church.” Checking everything was being followed to her orders she continues. “This will leave you Martha and you Alice to come last and you will walk to the right to stand next to Beatrice on the right. Well that’s all I think,” nodding lightly as if confirming something to herself “yes, yes that’s all. Now we wait.”
As if on cue the band inside the church starts and the doors swing open, after a brief scuffle of everyone getting in their places we start walking and my stomach knots itself into every knot known. It’s almost a dream I’m walking down the centre of the pews the standing people have turned all their eyes on me. I see the cream of the dresses of the girls in front of me. As they part off to either side I see my future husband he is dressed in the most amazing suit. A deep cream silk shirt, covered by a cream waist coat with an almost exact copy of beading on the sides as my dress, is stained only by the darkness of his shoulder length hair as it falls on the collar. The blue jacket of the grooms is mimicked in a cloak of blue velvet that falls around him, the almost midnight color makes his eyes seem even more mesmerizing. The style of trousers that hasn’t changes since I’ve met him are still literally like a second skin, only instead of his usual black attire they are also a dark blue that clashes brilliantly with the cream of the waist coat, the boots as always are black but are made toady of some softer material than his customary leather. I have little time to wonder on it because I’m at the altar, my arm has been slipped from the crook of the Dukes father and I place my hand in the Dukes as I take the two steps up to meet him. The music has stopped and the silence seems almost deafening before the priest starts talking.
“Dearly beloved we are gathered here today to welcome the union of the two people you see standing here. In a moment I will take them both through to the confession room for them to unite with no sins upon them. Before I do so is there anyone here who does not wish for this marriage to take place?”
I feel a slight prickle of tension on the back of my neck and it takes all my will power to not turn round and check the faces of those present for a hint of them halting the ceremony. No-one comes forth and the priest smiles.
“Well that is very good. Will you both please follow me into the confession room,” indicating to the right of the church “over here, so that we may clear the discomfort that any of your sins burden you with.”
I walk beside the Duke very aware of everyone watching us, the priest opens the door and holds it open as I walk in. I catch a brief glimpse of the congregation within the church pews before the form of the Duke blocks them from sight as he enters the room and the priest swings the door shut.
