Chapter 2
Chapter Two
“ L ady Vespera!”
I woke with a start, my hands wrapping around the maids shoulders in front of me. Sunlight flooded through the windows. My heart galloped. My hands tightened as the woman came into focus with a gasp.
“I apologise,” I said softly as I loosened my grip. The young maid stepped back, as if horrified by my touch. Our breathing coming in shallow, on the off beat of the other. My heart racing in my chest, creating a rush of noise and an onslaught of my senses.
“Your grandmother requests you join her for breakfast in the dining hall.” The young maid stepped back once more. She must have been new, or more brave than the others. No one young ventured out this far into my rooms, the previous maid claiming spirits lingered here.
Brushing past the light haired maid, I wandered down to the dining hall. Voices chuckled from beyond the large dark doors. I stopped just before the doors, intrigued, smoothing my hair and dress as best as I could before pushing the doors open. Four dining sets lined the table, eggs and toast sat on the centre.
“Were we expecting company, Grandmother?”
“Only the finest.” A deep voice said from behind me. I whirled to face the man.
“Uncle Arthur!” I all but squealed before rushing into his arms.
“There is my little bud.” Uncle Arthur beamed. He hadn’t aged a day since he moved four years ago to London. His light hair longer than usual, curling just below his ear. Bright eyes wide with joy. Even his skin was a slightly deeper shade than usual.
“I am no longer a bud.” I laughed lightly. Uncle Arthur shrugged his shoulders half heartedly.
“Yes you are. And I can’t wait to see the flower you blossom into.” His hands pulled my head to him lightly. His lips touched briefly to my forehead. The sweet gesture warmed my heart. He searched my gaze before stepping back.
“I found this on our travels and thought you may enjoy it.” He pulled a small book from his breast pocket. Fingering the pages, he opened the one he required with the utmost delicacy. I wasn’t used to gifts. They weren’t something our family usually participated in.
Inside lay a perfectly pressed white lily. Such an interesting flower. But I could not for the life of me recall the meaning.
“Thank you Arthur.” I smiled, grateful for the gift but unsure of what I was to do with it.
“Your mother and aunt both loved lilies,” He said, a note of sadness pulling his features down.
I opened my mouth to thank him again only to close it, offering a smile instead.
“Come now. The meal will get cold.” Grandmother’s voice chimed from behind. I shifted away, moving to the table, pressing my lips to the soft hair on the crown of her head.
I took my usual seat to her left. Taking my toast lathered in butter. The lily lay between us. Grandmother snorted at the flower, her lip curled as she looked upon it.
“Hello mother,” Arthur said cheerfully, approaching where we sat.
Looking past Arthur, I noticed we were not alone.
A man close to my age lingered by the door. His bright eyes fixed on mine. My eyes raked over him. He was tall, well dressed with soft hued hair. His smile turned up into a slight smirk. Hands firmly clasped before him. Confidence oozed from him, though he didn't look like someone of high society. Which was interesting given he was personally invited to dine with us. Grandmother had a strict no commoners rule that was only broken for the exception of Dorian.
Arthur’s gaze followed mine.
“Pardon my manners.” He gestured to the stranger. “This is my apprentice, Victor.”
Victor bowed small. My focus turned to Grandmother who was looking over him with a fine tooth comb. Her thin lips filled with apparent distaste. I wondered what she saw that she didn’t like. He was most definitely handsome, surely he hadn’t said or done anything to offend so soon. Surely it was the fact that she had noted he wasn’t a man of power. I would be shocked if she could see something I could not. Although, she was rather good at reading people.
Arthur guided him to the table, allowing him to sit and dine with us. Grandmother stiffened but brushed her hand along mine. A rise of her brows the only tell of the disgust morphing into curiosity.
I poured a cup of tea and straightened my posture, my stiff lace collar digging into my throat uncomfortably. My breathing slowed as if all the air had been sucked from the room.
Grandmother spoke to the men about their various travels. I remained silent, choosing to admire the delicate roses painted onto the china. Broken segments of their conversation made their way into my ears.
“Not married -
“Soon to be a doctor -
“Fine young man for our Vespera.”
I choked on my fresh tea at the last words. The liquid scolded into my nose. My gaze flicked to Victor who caught my movement and smirked back. My stomach roiled at the sight.
“Whilst I do appreciate the sentiment, I will have to decline at this current time,” I said, my voice rasping from the burn. Smiling as I stood from the table, excusing myself to the back gardens. Grandmother’s proud chuckle following me out.
The grand old manor was seen as haunted and frightening, or so that’s what the talk of the neighbouring towns told me. Grandmother had done well to convince everyone it was haunted. No one dared to journey this far into the forest. The rumours were vast and filled with dishonesty. Mother had once believed the manor was not haunted. That no ghosts or entities roaming the halls, just an old grandmother fearful of the outside world and her strange granddaughter.
Living in a wonder of architecture, Florian Manor resembled those of Ancient Rome with long church-like windows, tracery as grand as our line itself. I wasn't sure myself when it was built or why it was built so near to the forest but I did not mind at all.
The days where I journeyed to town were few and far between as of late. Hours spent in the carriage only to enter the colourless city to be gossiped about by townsfolk.
Colour seeing freaks. The lot of them. The young women weaving ribbons through their hair, boasting about the colours of their gowns. My lips curled at the memory of a game young woman rushing over to me to compliment my ‘purple’ skirts. As if I knew what that colour was. She gushed over the depth of the dye. I tore the fabric from me the moment I stepped inside the manor. Burying it deep in the back of my closet.
I did not care for colour. Nor did I want to know what colour I was wearing at any given time. I didn’t want to know beauty. How could I know beauty like this? A cursed existence was enough to taint and sour even the strongest person’s mind let alone my own fragile one.
Life for me was simple and uneventful. Unbothered even. I was a recluse, be it against my will, but that was the way it was. I despised those who could go freely and make friends and enjoy others' company without being seen as inferior or weird. That was never my path in life though. My path was a life of darkness and I had succumbed and accepted the fact. Welcoming it home into my heart as an old friend.
The gardens were concealed by a shadow of misty fog. It was unusual for this time of the month. The beginning of winter was nearly upon us but the mist generally came with the harsh season. Grandmother would ‘forbid’ travel at that time. As if we wanted to leave the place of our own free will in the first place.
Tall trees loomed overhead as I wandered through the garden, my slippers growing damp with muck from the grass below. Clouds loomed overhead, threatening another downpour.
I looked to the forest surrounding the vast gardens of assorted blooms. My heart thumped in my chest. I was not afraid of the dark but something about the forest set a chill deep in my bones. The feeling of eyes watching my every move pricked my skin with gooseflesh. A cool breeze blew a stray strand of hair into my eyes. I reached up to brush it from my vision, only to catch a flicker of movement amongst the treeline.
“Hello?” I called, my voice hoarse from the sudden fear.
No response came. I took a small step forward. The movement stopped as if expecting me to come closer.
“I know you are no animal. No animal has prowled these lands for a long while now. I suggest you show yourself immediately," I called. The lie coming out easily enough. Taking a deep breath, I gathered my skirts. My voice sounding stronger than I felt.
“I will count to three and if you are not out of there by the end of the countdown, the authorities will be called for trespassing.”
No response again. I stepped forward again, closing the distance between the treeline. A rustle of movement broke the silence. As if they lingered close.
“One,” I said as I stepped closer.
“Two.” Another step. I waited on baited breath, preparing for someone to come and attack me. My hands flexed beside me. As if awaiting the attacker's throat.
“Three,” I called, this time strolling to the first tree.
“You have one last chance to make yourself known.” I grated, my patience drawing thin. We sometimes had boys from the town come to visit the so-called ‘haunted’ manor. Though they usually made themselves known by now. The threat of the police enough to scare anyone away these days given how brutal they can be.
Branches rustled in the depth of the forest, the person fleeing as I drew near. My heart raced. I took another step toward it. A small flicker of movement caught my eye. A single petal fluttered past in the breeze. I tracked the movement briefly before daring to take another step toward the forest and the danger beyond. Only to feel a gentle hand grasp my arm.
My eyes grew wide, heart now pounding in my chest. A scream caught in my throat as I turned to face the person holding me. His hands now gripped both of my upper arms tightly as I stared wildly into his light eyes. Victor’s handsome face filled with worry, the cocky smirk now replaced with a concern that felt genuine. I felt myself blanch at the sight of him. The feel of him holding me sending a wave of unknown feeling through my body. Embarrassment gushing through me. He would have seen me talking to the trees and presumed I was mad no doubt. Madder than if he trusted the townspeople’s gossiping words that was. The doctor in him would turn me over to an asylum for less than that. I silently begged for him to leave me be, to return back inside where he belongs. Away from me.
“Lady Vespera, are you okay?” He lowered his brow, observing my features for any signs of harm.
“I’m fine.” I managed to croak. My eyes still boring into the light of his. Up close I could only just see the small dusting of freckles on his pale cheeks. His lips thinning with concern. The small petal rested on the shoulder of his coat.
“Come, it is freezing out here. You’ll get sick.” His hands dropped from my arms, instead taking my hand in his as he pulled me back toward the manor. I looked back to the forest. A strand of stray hair covering my face. But there was no mistaking the figure looking back at me through the darkness.