Authors: Trisha Fuentes
Tags: #historical, #funny, #thomas, #humorous, #maritime, #dare, #gwen
“Oh mother, I am so scared.”
She continued to stroke the side of my
cheeks, “Just remember darling, that when he shows you that he
cares, prove your own devotion darling. I know you care for him
Gwendolyn, more so than you permit everyone to witness. Allow him
to catch you every now and then. Please do not make the same
mistakes turning frigid at your husband’s touch. So many years
wasted I…I forced your father into the arms of a mistress…”
~~~~~
Gwendolyn flew down the stairs and ran into
the lawns, halting at the sight of a massive emptied fountain that
once held lily pads and numerous frogs. It was no wonder she could
still hear the laughter the dewpond generated…
~~~~~
“I am not going to touch it, you touch it,” I
demanded of Tommy, crossing my arms in front of him in my best
commandant stance.
“Quit being such a girl,” Tommy ribbed,
sticking his whole arm down the side of the moss-filled water.
“I am not a girl; I am an officer in the
Royal Navy.”
“No you aren’t, you’re a scaredy-cat and I
dare you to touch that toad.”
I twisted my lips and gazed down at the scaly
beast. It had titanic eyes and seemed to stare back at me daring me
to touch it to prove that it would leap off the side of the lily
pad and right into my hair. “If I touch it, you have to hold it,” I
challenged him, thinking what a better idea would be if we used the
toad to scare our governess.
Tommy smiled and puffed up with acceptance.
“Deal,” he proclaimed, grabbing the toad with both hands and
shoving the beast in front of my face. “Wouldn’t it be funny if we
put this toad in Miss Pinkel’s washbasin this evening?”
That brought on a huge smile, wasn’t I just
thinking the same dastardly thing? “Yes,” I said, reaching out to
the toad and gliding my finger across its back. It was not so bad;
wet and bumpy, anyhow, I could not wait for Tommy to take it
upstairs to shock Miss Pinkel! Oh how we loved to play tricks on
her, retribution for making us wash down before supper…
~~~~~
Walking away from the limestone fountain,
Gwendolyn reached the rest of the gardens. Once a surplus of envied
roses and flower beds, the garden had lost its color, misplaced its
fragrances, and won an array of shriveled up plants, fallen trees
and dried out leaves. Gwendolyn shook her head at all the waste and
could not look at it anymore and began running away from the ruins.
Picking up speed, she finally reached the coach house and began her
ascent towards it. Eerie friezes of horses’ heads above its
entrance summoned her in. Once inside, Gwendolyn was shocked to see
the Drummond carriages still lined up for usage! One, two, three,
four…four carriages?! Did she really own such luxuries; so much
prosperity at the mercy of disuse. She instantly brought to mind
the hired hack she left waiting at the gates. I will have to let
him go, she thought happily, she now had four luxurious carriages
at her disposal. Walking around them, she pinpointed a steel bench
and froze at the sight of it instantly remembering the last time it
was visited. Slowly walking over to it, she sat down and spread out
the fabric to her dress, languidly fingering the benches edge and
recollected the tears that were once shed there…
~~~~~
I wanted to talk to Tommy alone, had to get
to him before the wedding took place. Maybe we could run away, or
better yet, even stowaway on one of my father’s ships abroad. I was
not allowed to see him though, my mother told me so. We were to be
kept apart socially, until the matrimony began.
I ran to the estate as fast as my legs could
carry me, halted when I observed Tommy alone with his father. The
window was open and I could hear them shouting. Making sure they
could not see me, I meshed into the brick wall and threw my ear to
the window. Tommy and the Duke of Norwin were debating on something
that I could not quite understand.
“You can live anywhere you wish,” the Duke
proclaimed. “How about India? Madagascar or Africa?” Tommy snapped
back, adding fuel to the fire.
“Do not be absurd, son,” the Duke sharply
replied. “You must live in London in order to help oversee the
trade according to the provisions in the dowry.”
“I do not want to be involved, father!” Tommy
recited with a cry in his voice. “I hate the maritime
business!”
“You will do what I say, and that’s an
order!”
“But father, for the last time, this isn’t
suitable,” Tommy yelled back at him. “I never wanted Gwendolyn this
way...”
Within hearing Tommy’s invariable insult, my
very heart sunk into my chest. I had never heard him say something
so…wounding. I followed my feet as fast as they could take me back
to Gisleham, not even caring if I bumped into anything along the
way and did not notice Jordan when I walloped into him. I did not
realize that I was running so fast for he caught me before I fell
backwards, his two strong arms firmly gripping against my forearms
aiding me for balance.
“Are you hurt?” He asked, his thumbs
unintentionally digging into my shoulders.
“Yes,” I said, thinking how much Tommy’s
rejection really impaired me.
“Where?” He asked, whirling my body around,
inspecting my outer physique for any possible injury.
Satisfied that he could not find any blood or
broken bone, he finally released his clench from my shoulders and I
took a few steps backwards only to watch him take a few steps
ahead. Through tear-filled eyes, I tried to look up at him but my
view was clouded and uncomfortable; I had never been so close to
him before, he smelled of fresh laundered linen and some unknown
fragrance that caused my senses to come alive. I remembered
thinking how tall he was and broad and perfectly shaped until my
eyes leveled to his waistcoat and felt him raise my chin.
“Why the tears?” He asked in a soft
unfamiliar voice.
“It does not concern you,” I spat back at him
still distraught over Tommy.
“Oh, I see,” he said letting go a chuckle. I
watched him cross his arms across his chest and with tears still
gushing down my cheeks he looked straight down into my eyes. I
noticed his usual pretentious outward show was no longer visible.
He appeared different to me now, more relaxed…almost tender and
beguiling. He went to reach for my face but held back his contact.
I knew what he wanted to do but I beat him to it and wiped my own
tears that were trickling down my face. Making me nervous than ever
before, I no longer wanted to be near him and stepped away only to
hear “I could have made you happy” at my backside.
Bit by bit, I curved around, my ears still
not willing to believe what was just conveyed. “I beg your
pardon?”
Coughing first, he let out, “Congratulations
again,” he quickly rejoined, not smiling.
“That is not what I heard,” I let go
challenging him.
His green eyes were compelling and gazed deep
into mine trying to search for something but when he doesn’t find
it, moments later he confessed, “It was what was meant.”
His bow was quick but poignant and I stood
there idle and watched him drudge away. For once he had his head
down in defeat but his coattails flipped about with each proud
stride he took. He truly was a handsome man and maybe that would
have been enough, but the only boy I ever truly cared about was
Tommy.
~~~~~
Wiping away the tears that quickly streaked
her cheeks, Gwendolyn stood up immediately and scampered out of the
coach house. Wandering around aimlessly now, Gwendolyn covered her
mouth in disbelief. So many memories there…so many incredible
memories, blissful, tragic, exuberant in their generosity. Running
and running, she finally reached the lake and began the endless
stretch around it. It was still a blackish blue, like the nighttime
sky just after sunset. Leaning back on a large oak one memory bit
against her tear filled eyes…
~~~~~
“Why are we hiding up here again, Gwendolyn?”
Tommy asked, peering through the branches, trying to see if
Mademoiselle de la Motte, their French tutor was still searching
for them.
“We are hiding from that weird woman,” I
remarked simply, sticking out my head to see if I could notice her
approach as well. “I do not understand her and she bothers me.”
“She is our French tutor, Gwendolyn. We’ve
ditched her twice this week, and once last week. My father’s going
to skin me alive if I do not learn French.”
“Oh, stop being so honorable, wouldn’t you
rather go swimming?
It is so hot today; I just want to swim all
day long,” I complained, stretching out my legs on the growth of
the tree. “I bet you I can dive off that edge over there and make
it into the middle.”
Tommy gazed down at the water. After looking
over towards Gisleham once more, he headed out towards the brink of
the tree. “All right, but you have to reach the middle, you cannot
cheat like you did last time.”
“I did not cheat. I do not cheat, you big
nincompoop,” I mouthed, crawling on the thin branch, reaching over
to the brim. I then jumped out as high as I could and stiffened my
body up to dive right in the middle. I remembered the water being
refreshingly cool, and instantaneously relaxing my agitation.
Dipping my head under the water, blowing bubbles underneath, I
looked up at the tree and noticed Tommy springing up on his feet,
doing a perfect dive into the lake, missing me by a foot.
Wading my body backwards in the water, Tommy
shot up directly and spat in my face on purpose. “I win.”
I then splashed water into his. “You did not;
you missed me by a horse hair. See,” I showed him, having not moved
an inch. “This is where I landed.”
Tommy rolled his eyes then dipped half his
face back into the water. “Gwendolyn, you always do that,” he
expressed running his hand through his wet hair. “Why can’t I ever
win? You land in one place, but you swim to another.”
“I do not,” I shrieked, splashing water into
his face once again. Tommy then cupped water in his hands and
sloshed liquid into mine. It turned into a competition of spatter
when we heard…
“Enfants? Chulledren? Oh là-bas vous êtes !
There you are!”
“Oh no!” I screamed, “She found us!”
“Hurry,” Tommy shouted, grabbing my shoulder
and directing me towards the other side of the lake. “Let’s swim
back to Wilderbrand, she won’t find us there…”
~~~~~
Closing her eyes, Gwendolyn finally allowed
the tears to worsen. With so much inundating her, she fell to her
knees, gripping her stomach in heart-breaking agony. Maybe it was
healthful she was there. Maybe it was meant to be…to let go, to
finally release those haunting memoirs of her childhood…and about
him. Burying her head within her lap, Gwendolyn let loose her
lingering misery. Hurling the rest of her body to the ground, she
allowed her head to rest on a soft patch of grass; reopening her
eyes, she looked up at the blue sky and spotted a hawk in the
distance searching for mice. Gwendolyn felt her eyes close for the
last time and continued her liberation. It was good to be
there…good to cry…good to move forward…move on…to start a new
life…with another man…create new memories…close those doors to her
past…forever.
Continuing to weep in the middle of an
overgrown field, Gwendolyn unexpectedly felt the thunderous sounds
of hooves slowly emerging. Sitting up within the saw grass, she
witnessed an approaching horse rapidly startling her. She barely
got out of the way as it circled around and galloped near.
Repositioning her stance Gwendolyn could not
help but notice the woman atop a glorious black mount. The female
was stunning, with exquisite blonde curls encasing her bright blue
eyes. Her burgundy velour riding dress showed iridescent gloss and
shades of purple from the sunlight, her men’s top hat engrossed
roses and trailing muslin. She was poised and graceful, and when
she finally calmed down her horse, Gwendolyn felt intimidated not
only by her beauty, but the woman’s continued scrutiny of her own
examination.
“Who are you? You are trespassing
Madame.”
Gwendolyn was taken-back. Who was she? And
why was she speaking to her in a manner as if to challenge her? “I
beg your pardon?”
“This is a gated estate Madame, a private
household. What business do you have here?” The female asked,
dismounting her horse and dusting down her outfit.
Gwendolyn wiped the remaining tears away from
her eyes, straitened her attitude then stared into the woman’s
discourtesy, “Perhaps you can tell me who you are first, then I can
begin to settle the formalities. You are the one who has breached
my property, Madame.”
She laughed sickly at Gwendolyn’s
confrontation. “Am I? Why you silly girl, do you not know where you
are? You have entered Wilderbrand Castle.”
Gwendolyn crossed her arms and nodded her
head. “I have not—” she stopped, doing a double take at the lake
behind her. Oh no, she did enter the property. The lake separated
the two lands, Gisleham Manor on the one side, Wilderbrand Castle
on the other.
The woman petted her horse’s mane and patted
him on his neck. “Insufferable girl, perhaps my fiancé will
enlighten you, here he comes now.”