The girl was beautiful. Near indescribably beautiful. Her long dark hair was pulled up elegantly to draw attention to her delicate, feminine face. Her eyes were large but not doe-ish. Two oceanic orbs staring out at the world. Her lashes were thick, dark, and long. Her nose was long and graceful. Her lips, pursed in a smile, were rose red and appeared soft to touch. She appeared a porcelain doll, only full of life. She appeared submissive but confident. The object of any man's desire.
Aveline Vassar stared at the girl in the painting. She reached up and traced the outline of the girl's perfect face with her finger. This is who everyone wants to be, she thought. Like hell that is going to happen.
Aveline turned from the painting to study her own reflection in the mirror. She wasn't ugly. But she was no artist's muse. Large green eyes stared back at her from under her mess of curls. She was pretty enough to be admired by Mr. Martin. That was for sure. Not Mr. Martin, she thought, I should call him Richard. He is after all my betrothed. I should at least be able to call him by his first name.
She wasn't all too sure of that though. After since she had arrived in New York, everything had been one big mess of protocol. Richard Martin was a prominent banker on Wall Street. He was new money, but that was better than no money. That was what Aveline's mother had told her anyways.
Aveline and her family were old money. A wealthy family, coming from a long line of Boston ship merchants. Rough times had fallen on the family however. They were willing to take any money, old or not, as long as it meant they could continue their lifestyle.
Aveline rather resented this. Here I am, she thought, in a city I've never been to, having to marry a man I've never met, just so Mother can keep her toy poodles in diamond collars. They just shipped me away in a cab, forcing me to live a new life.
It hadn't exactly happened like that. Aveline's father and Mr. Martin had done business on several occasions. He remembered Mr. Vassar's daughter as the free-spirited sweet young thing at the Christmas party. When he took interest in her, her family was eager to ship her off to New York to be with him. Aveline's family seemed hardly bothered by the age difference between the two. To them 16 years was nothing when money was involved. To Aveline the difference was disgusting. Not that she disliked Mr. Martin though. She thought he was a very nice man. She could hardly imagine bedding him though. Unfortunately though, she would have no choice in that matter.
It was hardly proper for Aveline to live with Mr. Martin before they were married. She was to live with his sister, Josephine until the nuptials. The siblings lived only a few blocks apart so she would see plenty of her fiancé. She was sure if this was a good thing or not. Aveline made the journey from Boston to New York all by herself. Well, almost, she was with her father's driver and her maidservant Clarice. It was the most independent thing she had ever been able to do though. She wished her mother would have been with her though, to see the face of Mr. Martin's sister when she opened the door to find Aveline standing there.
The older woman stared at Aveline with complete disgust. With her low cut dress and rouge, Aveline was hardly the woman; she wanted to be continuing her family line. The woman put on her best show of hospitality and led Aveline inside
"Your home is just lovely. Thank you for letting me stay here," Aveline curtsied and said.
"Yes, well, it wouldn't be proper for you to stay with my brother. We wouldn't want society thinking you an immoral woman." The way the woman said it, it was clear that, that was exactly what she took Aveline to be. That kind of utter contempt would make most girls squirm but Aveline just smiled.
"We most certainly wouldn't want that."
The next few weeks were all a blur of wedding plans and learning how to be a New York lady. Aveline had seen Mr. Martin a few times, here and there, but he seemed always to be on business. Josephine helped with Aveline to appease her younger brother, but really wanted nothing to do with the 16-year-old girl.
The wedding arrived before Aveline knew it. Her family came up for the occasion but to Aveline, they seemed so distant. Her mother was sure to bring her toy poodles. The biggest names in business attending the ceremony as well as New York high society. Aveline, honestly, didn't have much feeling about the ceremony. It was true that she didn't love Mr. Martin, but how many husbands and wives really loved each other? The way she had been raised, this arranged marriage hardly fazed her. She had been more excited about her dress than her husband. This is good. This is what's best for me, she thought as she stood at the alter. She couldn't help but think of all of those dime novels she would read and hide under her pillows as a child. The lovers were always filled with such passion, such desire. Right now, she desired a nap more than she desired the man standing next to her. She shook these thoughts away though and listened to the priest. She recited her vows and said, "I do."
From about the age of 13 on, Aveline had always dreamt of one day consummating her marriage. She had always dreamt of it being with Prince Charming though, not the man next to her on the bed now. As she lay there now, the morning after her wedding, Aveline tried not to think about the events of the night before. The night together had been awkward and clumsy. Not only because she was unsure of what to do, but because she had not found herself attracted to him in the very least. He kept on asking her why she was so quiet during the whole thing. He had been plenty loud, that was for sure. He had succeeded to fall asleep soon after they were done and left her alone in that strange bed.
Aveline had not slept much that night. Not only because of Richard's snoring but because something was missing. He had taken away her virginity. She had imagined her first time to be the greatest thing ever. It certainly wasn't. She had not felt any pleasure, only pain. She could tell she was going to be getting bruises soon. She sat up that long, lonely night and though about the life she had before her. There would be many more nights like this. It would only get worse as Richard got older and wrinklier. Everyone told her that she would grow to love him, but she wasn't buying that. Her mother didn't love her father, even though she would never admit it. Aveline was sure that she would never love Richard.
If she should ever get away from Richard though, what man would take her? She was used goods now. She didn't have a great fortune of her own, nor a great name. She would never find that passion that she had so longed desired.