Note: The storyline, plot, characters, etc. are all mine. I did not create the idea of vampires, werewolves, etc. however this story was created by me. Do Not Steal It! I love getting feedback so don't hesitate to submit a review even if it's just to tell me that I mispelled a word...yea I really want to fix that stuff! Or just a short "good job" would be fantastic too!
Chapter 1
Fall 1793
The air burned with the scorched scent of old oak and cotton. The ash blew violently as the merciless inferno that engulfed the ancient manor illuminated the midnight sky. Farmhands and pages rushed frantically to the well and back with wooden buckets trying to drown the flames but to no avail. Then there were the screams; terrified screams from both the people outside and the victims inside. The embroidered curtains billowed like a mane of fiery hair in the wind threatening to ignite the nearby forest pines. The very foundation itself seemed to moan in agony as the fire consumed its once fortress like structure.
"Get them out! Get the girls out, I say!" yelled the lead Farmhand.
"No Thomas! The manor will collapse any second!" screamed his wife.
"Father the girls are still in there! We cannot let them perish!" yelled his eldest son.
Sprinting towards the manor, the young boy, not a day older than 19, ran through the double oak doors of the blazing manor yelling for the girls still trapped within. He was closely followed by his father and a few other brave farmhands while his mother fell to the ground weeping in her dirty apron. Those who remained outside desperately tried to abate the scorching flames but found their attempts futile. All of a sudden there was a thunderous crack as one of the roof beams gave way and crashed into the third floor of the manor. A piercing sound of shattering glass and a moment later a heart wrenching scream. The petrified crowd gasped in horror as the once grand manor collapsed in a burning heap of splintered wood and carved stone. Nobody noticed the towering figure stride off into the nearby woods carrying something limp in his arms.
Chapter 2
Spring 1793
There was a sharp rapping on the door.
"Victoria Rose Beckett are you not up yet?" came a stern voice.
"No," she responded groggily, entangled in her white sheets.
"Well you had better get up soon or your mother will have a right fit."
"I shall get up when James goes and sweeps the barn, I promise."
"Bullocks, you very well know that James does not sweep the barn 'til midday."
"My point exactly," Victoria muttered to herself.
"Make haste lass. You're already late. How can you expect to be married by next fall if you're lying in your bed dreaming your life away?"
"That sounds rather pleasant actually."
"Up now or I shall fetch your father."
"Fine. I'm up," said Victoria quickly untangling herself from her crisp sheets and walking towards the door.
Opening it to find a stern faced, stout middle-aged woman wearing a tight brown bun with streaks of gray and a frown.
"See," she said smiling, "I told you I'd get up Elle May."
The woman sighed, shook her head and went on her way, walking briskly down the hall but not without stating, "Lord I sometimes wish you were more like your sister."
"No you don't Elle May. If I was more like her, there wouldn't be a need for two of us" she called after her.
Laughing to herself she closed the door and went to pull back the curtains on her window. She sighed and smiled softly at the sight. One of her favorite aspects of the morning was how the buttery sunlight gently crept up the main lawn illuminating it like a golden sea of grass. How she loved the sun. She made her way towards the elegantly decorated water basin on her dresser. After pouring some of the icy liquid into it from the matching pitcher, she vigorously washed her face, enjoying the cold feeling that tingled her cheeks. Half an hour later she was rushing down the stone steps hair pulled back in a simple plait wearing a plain green dress and apron. She stumbled into the kitchen where the Elle May and the other house-hands were busily working on breakfast.
"Good morning," she breathed happily.
"Good morning Victoria," answered Mary Alice, James' Mother, a delicately pretty brunette whose kindness was reflected in all of her features, "A little late are we?"
Elle May scoffed, "I'll say."
"Only a little," replied Victoria modestly.
"Well you'd better get a move on young lady, your father, mother and sister are already waiting for you in the dining hall," said Anne Marie, a old thin woman who was far more ancient that Elle May herself.
"Yes Madam," and without a second glance Victoria quickly crossed the kitchen and went through the door that led to the dining hall where she did indeed find the rest of her family waiting for her. Her father did not look pleased.
"Where have you been?" he asked sternly as she slowly sank into her seat. His brown beard hid the thin line that his mouth had become; a clear indication of his annoyance.
Victoria glanced across the table at her sister Olivia. Her twin peered briefly at her before dropping her eyes to her plate.
"..I..," she stammered then collecting herself, "I overslept father."
"Well daughter remember that this manor has a collective routine beginning every sunrise and we cannot afford to waste time to wait for you. Is that understood?" he asked.
"Yes father, I apologize. It won't happen again," she replied facing him.
"Be sure it doesn't," he responded, his eyes softening slightly.
Victoria nodded.
At that moment breakfast was brought in. Bowls of steaming porridge, a warm stack of toast, a small cluster of starch-white hard boiled eggs, and a steel pitcher of fresh milk were placed in the center of the table. Everyone bowed their heads to say grace and then commenced to eat.
"Do not forget girls that later this afternoon you will be attending a tea party with the town's young ladies. You must look your best. Quite a few of the town's most respected suitors will be there. Your actions must be flawless," their mother gently stated. Her voice was as soft as silk and as eloquent as any respectable court lady's.
Victoria gave Olivia one of those I'd-rather-stay-at-the-manor- and-feed-the-pigs looks. Olivia suppressed her laughter. Their mother continued to explain the expectations of a proper lady, a list they had heard countless times in the past.
"…only speaks when she is spoken to. She hides her eyes behind her fan and peers into a man's eyes only momentarily before returning them to the floor. A prized wife is one who honors all requests made by her husband. She never leaves his side, and only states her opinion when asked to do so. She has no need to talk as her presence is sufficient enough… "
No need to think is more like it, thought Victoria, All she has to do is sit there and look attractive.
I wonder why Victoria has that look of disgust on her face?, thought Olivia, Probably thinking of how much she hates being a noble puppet. I can't say I don't blame her.
Olivia turned her head to peer out of the dining hall window, out past the glowing lawn, the perfectly aligned blossoming orchards, and into the thickly dense pines. She could see their very tops swaying slightly in the wind, as free to dance as they wished. Spring breezes always made the pines dance as if they, too, were overjoyed that the harsh winter had now ended. Their thin emerald needles glistened sharply as they clung to the morning dew.
"Olivia, are you listening to me?"
Olivia was immediately jerked out of her daydreaming.
"—Oh! Yes mother, a lady should never speak unless spoken to."
"No darling. I was actually asking if you were finished with your breakfast yet?" corrected her mother, slightly annoyed.
"Oh, um, yes mother. I have finished," Olivia gave a weak smile.
"Well then take your dishes to the kitchen and proceed with haste to your chores. We want as much time to prepare you for the tea party."
Olivia gave a swift nod, picked up her porcelain dishes and walked with her sister into the kitchen. The clinking and scraping of china could be heard outside the door letting them know that the househands were already cleaning up the morning's wastes.
"Mary Alice we're off to the orchards," called Victoria grabbing a wide-rimmed woven basket.
"We'll be back soon," added Olivia.
And without a second glance, the girls bolted through the back door of the kitchen and were running outside at almost a full sprint down towards the fruitful orchards.
"So are you excited for the tea party?" asked Olivia mockingly.
"As excited as I am to marry and bed a complete stranger who will more than likely be at least twice as old as I am on our wedding night," replied Victoria sarcastically.
The girls ran past the old wooden barn and effortlessly hopped over the wooden fence separating the main lawn from the orchards.
"Yea me too. But don't let mother hear you talk so crudely or she will die of shame," warned Olivia.
"Crude, yes. Untruthful, I think not."
"I suppose you are right but you must remember that we are ladies and must behave like them," added Olivia leaping over a fallen pine branch.
"We behave how the world and our husbands dictate us to behave and that's all. Not how we choose to behave or how we see fit. There's a difference you know," panted Victoria.
"I do. But what can we do? We can't change the times nor how we live in them. As much as I wish I could choose whom I marry—,"
"Good morning Lady Victoria, Lady Olivia," greeted a handsome young boy no older than 19.
The girls stumbled and nearly fell as they abruptly tried to stop their quick pace.
"Hello James!" smiled Victoria.
"Good morning James," breathed Olivia.
"Honestly, where are you ladies rushing off to so hastily?" asked the kind faced brunette.
"Well—," started Victoria in a mock pretentious tone, "we are rushing because there is a certain tea party with which we have received due invitation to attend and we must hurry to finish our chores so that we may dress and pretty ourselves so that we can find our long awaited suitors. I suspect they'll be arriving in coffins if you'd care to meet them."
"—and after our arrival, this is our favorite part now, we'll get to sit down and sip lemon tea with our dear friends, whom like us, are also looking for suitors to marry and discuss the important matters of life such as lady-like behavior—,"
"make-up and tea—,"
"embroidery and crochet—,"
"perfume and hair—,"
"—and most importantly, how to best please our husbands," finished off Olivia with a delicate, mock smile and a final curtsy.
"That bad, huh?" asked James.
"Put it this way," scorned Victoria, immediately dropping her noblewoman charade, "If I had my way, I'd be helping you clean up after the pigs. At least they see me as more than just a pretty face and a young bride."
"Ah," smiled James, "Well be grateful you're twins. Imagine having to face all that alone?"
"I try not to thank you very much," smiled Victoria.
"You know sometimes I don't understand why they call us twins. We don't look exactly alike. When we were younger, yes, but now our faces are distinctly different," Olivia thought out loud.
"And good thing too or our future husbands wouldn't be able to tell the difference," laughed Victoria.
"Well, good luck to you both for this afternoon's torture party. It sounds like a real treat," he finished.
"Goodbye James," said Victoria turning on her heels and continuing deeper into the orchards.
"Farewell Victoria. And to you too," he turned to face Olivia, "I shall await your return, my fair lady."
Olivia blushed and smiled, starring deeper into his vibrant blue eyes. Gently taking her hand, he placed a delicate kiss on her skin.
"I'll see you tonight James," she whispered, squeezing his hand.
"Please do not be engaged when you return," he gently whispered back.
Olivia smiled then turning on her heels ran after her sister. Picking fruits was a remarkably relaxing activity. The sweet smells of the apples, apricots, and currants teased the senses along with the soothing breaths of the orchards as the breeze gently flowed between their waxy leaves. Half the time was spent running in swirling circles hand in hand allowing the wind to blow smoothly through their matching dark brown hair. Their laughter was carried on the wind deep into the forest pines where the woods itself seemed to be laughing with them at the simple yet beautiful joy they were partaking in.