I own nothing
The spring of 1850 was a cold one. Standing above my father's grave with the rain drizzling down was quite the depressing experience. The rain mixed with the dirt, creating mud, and further mess. It was supposed to be a clean, neat, so-called 'celebration' of my father's life. However, with the dreary weather, it seemed more of a condemnation to hell. I simply stood there, listening to the priest and standing next to my Uncle Charles. Having only met him once, today, it was surprising to me that he would be my new caretaker. I wondered why my Aunt Prissy nor my Uncle Robert could take care of me. I was fond of them both. I supposed, however, that they were not fond of the town's 'wild-child' ruining either of their reputations.
Listening to the priest ramble on bored me. I glanced around, hoping to find something entertaining to watch or look at. I spotted a man of lower class, with shaggy hair and cheap clothes. It surprised me. Occasions like a death cost money. I had to go out and buy a new dress, new bonnet, new shoes. Uncle Charles had to purchase black velvet to place over the mirrors, and take down all of our family portraits. Death wasn't an inexpensive thing. So I was confused to why this man, of whom I did not even recognize, was so shabbily dressed. He caught my eye, and I looked into his for a few seconds. Dark, almost black, irises, with a glimmer of spirit. They were enchanting. I turned away reluctantly, lowering my eyes to the ground, for I was not supposed to be doing anything but praying. Uncle Charles cleared his throat, and I knew that I would have a long lecture about this incident later. He was still sore over the fact that I had commented on his prematurely balding head earlier, thoughit was true.
As the priest finished, I placed my black rose on top of the coffin. Then it was slowly lowered down into the grave, and an unexpected tear slipped out. This man had treated me horribly. He pushed me away because he said that I reminded him of my mother. I only saw him a few times a month. Other than that, he was always on the road.
Even with our plantation in Caldecott County, he owned a business in Jackson, and typically only came home one or two weekends a month, if that. Ororo, our servant, took care of me, even when he was home. Ororo was a strange woman. Very dark skin, yet she had the vocabulary and correct pronunciation of a wealthy man. Smart as a whip, too. 'Ro had been taking care of me my whole life. My mother died right after I was born, and I believe that my father blamed me for her death. I suppose I blame myself too. Mother had been perfectly healthy. Immediately after I was born, however, she got very sick, and passed within a few days. My father had no idea what to do with me;I was merely a reminder of what had been.
He never asked about me, or was even concerned with my life until quite some time later. I was fourteen, and a worker on our plantation had caught my fancy. His name was Cody McIntyre. He was three years my senior, with big blue eyes and sandy blond hair, quite handsome. He developed a liking for me too, and we began to engage in intimacy. Ororo discovered our relations and was forced to tell my father, who then fired Cody, making sure he was rehired a long ways away from me. Since then, the only times he had interrupted Ororo's parenting was to make sure my hems were longer, my necklines were higher, and the colours of my dresses duller. Even so, with my hazel flecked green eyes, my bright auburn hair, and my hourglass figure, I still caught the attraction of many gentlemen in the area, as well as the distaste of almost every single woman in a thirty mile radius.
Unfortunately for them, I was taken. Not that I wanted to be. A month before my
father succumbed to consumption, he decided, along with Mr. Edgar Wagner, that I was
to marry Kurt Wagner, Edgar's son. It wasn't too bad of a match. He was definitely not devoid of looks, with his high cheekbones and thick hair. However, I had known Kurt since I was but a child. My earliest memories always included him. Sneaking around our plantation, playing tricks on poor Ororo is how I remember my early childhood. We were horrid to her, but she just laughed and treated us as if we were her own children. We truely felt we were. She cleaned scrapes and gave us ice to suck on on hot days. Even though Kurt had his own parents, he spent most of his time with us. He and I were inseparable.
As he grew older, his parents let him come over less and less. By and by, two years ago, he stopped coming altogether. It was ensuing the incident with Cody, and I couldn't have felt more alone. Ororo consoled me through my troubles. I remained in the house for a few months, composing myself.
A few days before my sixteenth birthday, my father came home, coughing up blood. Ororo tried to nurse him until a doctor could be called, but by the time one arrived, my father was unconscious. He died a week later, never regaining consciousness.
So that was why I waswalking away from my father's freshly dug grave, surprised that I am saddened. I took my time back to the carriage, thinking about my tears. A tall
handsome man suddenly stood in front of me, and I stopped, a watery smile on my face.
"I am so sorry, Marie." Kurt said quietly, putting his comforting hands on my
own.
"You have nothing to be sorry about." I mumbled to him. "You know of my
relationship with him. Practically non-existent." He shook his head, instead bringing me
into a hug. I held him back, even though I knew this would be the subject of another
lecture from my uncle. We stood there for a while, his arms wrapped around me as I
softly cried into his shoulder. I ignored all of the whispers around us, and all of the eyes that I could feel on the two of us. After a few minutes I pushed away from him, not wanting to cause him any more troubles.
"I should go." I smiled at him through my wet eyes. Kurt nodded, and let me go.
"I'll see you later." He told me, squeezing my gloved hand. I nodded, then headed off into the carriage, where my uncle was already waiting. I waved to Kurt before Uncle Charles drew the curtains, frowning at me.
"What have I told you about paying attention to important things? And that
public display of affection! Dear Marie, what have you been reduced to? How can you
disgrace your father's-" I tuned him out, listening to the soothing sound of the horses'
hooves.
Break
A few months passed, and Mr. Wagner decided it was time to announce the betrothal of Kurt and I. Even though I, at only sixteen, still had a few years until usual marrying age, I suppose Mr. Wagner wanted to make sure that I became a loving and loyal spouse, as to derail my 'loose' ways.
A ball was to be held tonight for Mr. Wagner to announce the engagement. Standing in front of my mirror was where I was. Ororo was helping lace up my corset, tighter than usual. My final night of freedom was wrapped up in this ball, and I just wished that someone would take me away. I loved Kurt, I did, but in a strictly platonic way. The idea of consummating this marriage was an idea that had plagued me ever since my father spoke of this marriage.
"Marie?" Ororo said, shattering my daydreams.
"Yes?" I asked, my voice airy. The corset cut off most of my air flow. It was a new style, being put on my figure rather than sewn into the dress.
"Are you troubled?" She frowned. I bit my lip, nodding. She took my dress, slipping it on over my head, and began to adjust it.
"What is troubling you?" She asked, hooking up the back.
"The whole idea of Kurt and I." I shrugged. Ororo sighed, smoothing out my skirts.
"Marie, you know that you must marry him. I know that he is like a brother to you. But this is what your father wanted. Your uncle only wants to honour his wishes." Ororo told me, picking up the silver and emerald ear bobs from the bureau, and fastening them to my lobes. After she fastened them, I nodded.
"But...Kurt and I..." I blushed. Ororo knew what I was trying to say.
"Do your best, my dear. Mr. Wagner will certainly expect grandchildren, so it really is not something you can avoid." I nodded. Ororo affixed the simple silver and emerald necklace around my collar, it matching the earrings. She slipped a silver bangle onto each wrist, and then turned me around.
"Let me look at you." She said warmly, a smile on her face. Ororo beamed at me as she took in her work.
"You look beautiful, Marie." I reddened.
"Thank you, 'Ro." I said, stepping down from the platform.
"The carriage will be outside waiting for you in around a half hour. In the meantime, you need to eat something. You haven't eaten much in the last few days. You need to get some food into yourself, dear." Ororo put a hand on my shoulder, guiding me downstairs.
After I ate a bit, I left in the carriage for the ball. I stared out the window the whole ride, dreading what was to come.
As soon as I stepped out the carriage, the whispers started.
"...such a scandal, her red hair and low cut dresses..."
"...McIntyre? She was intimate with him at thirteen! That's why.."
"...wouldn't be surprised if Kurt and the rogue had already..you know..."
Snippets of conversations were all I heard as I walked in. It wasn't unusual. Whenever I went out in public, it was the same story. Everyone thought I was unladylikebecause I had had relations with one person. A working class man at that. I do not even know how news of the affair had gotten out. Ororo, my father, Cody and I were the only ones, to my knowledge, who knew about it. But perhaps Cody had told someone...I do not know.
Anyway, these talks of myself acting like a loose womanwere common. I usually simply ignored them. However, as soon as I stepped foot on the ballroom floor, a particularly gossipy pair of sisters, Judith and Sarah Grayson, stepped up to me. Judith sniffed haughtily at me.
"Why hello, Marie." She managed. Her corset was obviously strung too tightly, in attempt to fit her unsightly figure into the desired 'hourglass' look. I couldn't hide my displeasure as the twins stared back at me, waiting for a response.
"Judith. Sarah." I nodded curtly to them as they glared at me with their beady little eyes. "What a pleasant surprise." It came out quite sarcastically, which wasn't completely my intention. Sarah snickered behind her hand, unladylike as usual. This 'lady' was always breaking stature. She rode astride horses quite often, in trousers, no less. It was absurd.
"Speaking of pleasant surprises, found any in your bed?" She and Judith cackled with glee. Neither of them even had correct grammar. They were nothing but a family of two-bit hicks with fancy dress. For the lord's sake, her father had sired half of the working population in Mississippi!
"I wouldn't be talking about surprises in bed, Sarah. From what I have heard about your father, there is plenty of shock to go around." Venom spewed from my words. Sarah's face flushed cerise as Judith frowned.
"Our father is not...a..." I raised my eyebrows questioningly, a knowing smirk on my face.
"A what, Sarah?" I asked in the most innocent voice I could muster. They both returned to their signature glares, their fake and out-of-fashion ringlets bouncing as they strutted awkwardly.
"Whore!" Judith called to me, as the pair angrily made their way to the opposite side of the ballroom. I was about to follow them when a hand grabbed my arm.
"It isn't worth it," Kurt soothed. I clenched my fists and narrowed my eyes as I stared the girls down. Kurt pulled me back, and spun me towards him, away from seeing those infuriating girls.
"They make my blood boil," I muttered under my breath, finally looking at him. I was a bit alarmed at his appearance. He looked tired, run down. He seemed to have aged ten years in two months. Kurt seemed to notice the worried look on my face. He smiled.
"It's nothing you can do." he said, practically reading my mind. "I simply have some affairs to attend to." I nodded, understanding. 'Affairs' was code for Wanda Maximoff. Wanda was his true love. They had been planning to ask Mr. Wagner permission to get married for quite some time, until my father put in a word for me. Wanda hated me for a while after she found out why they couldn't marry, but she was adequately civil now. Kurt had been with her secretly ever since the betrothal was discussed, and it was quite stressful. Secret meetings, fake trips, it was hard to pull off such shenanigans without suspicions being aroused.
"Well, Marie, the affairs I had to tend to are obviously not the source of the celebration for tonight." Kurt said, attempting to sound cheerful. "So, may I have this dance?" I smiled at him and took his outstretched hand, being led off to the dance floor.
We danced for a few melodies before Kurt led me off of to the side. In hushed tones he informed me about his seeing Wanda one last time, in a few minutes out in the courtyard. Night had just fallen, so it was the perfect time to talk without being seen. He asked me to go stroll the gardens for only a quarter hour, just so it would seem that he was out conversing with me rather than meeting Wanda. I agreed, and we walked outside together, going out separate ways.
I ambled along the pathway, deeply breathing in the sweet sent of the magnolia blossoms. Humming the last song's tune to myself, I stopped in front of the tree and picked a flower for my hair, tucking it behind my ear gently. I was about to carry on with my promenade, when I felt a hand clamp over my mouth, and an arm reach around to my front, a sharp mental point being pushed to my throat. A young man, with a peculiar French accent, began to speak.
"Come quietly, chère." Like hell I would. I tried to scream through his hand and wriggle free, but the blade cut into the skin on my throat. A few beads of crimson slowly trailed down my pale skin, but I didn't stop my fight. The damn crinoline under my skirts prevented me from being able to kick him, but my hands were still somewhat free. I pushed at his arm, ultimately making the blade tear a little more into my flesh. Bad choice. Before I could even think of another way to get out of this mess, the man put a sweet smelling cloth against my nose, and I quickly fell into the inky black.
