Okay, Well, I do actually own this! I wrote this when I was much younger, so cut me some slack. If you have suggestions I would love to here them. Well sit back, relax, and entire the 1800's...
The
BESTMAN'S
BRIDE
"Forever and a day…"
"Speak low if you speak love.."
-Much ado about nothing
I tightened my corset, the air capacity of my lungs decreasing. I stare at my reflection in the full length, golden framed mirror that hung on my maroon wall.
The dress was gorgeous, a Venetian red coloured corset with puffy sleeves that ended mid-arm. The corset was tied together with a long golden string, my tan under shirt showed through the gaps the criss crossing strings left. The skirt was maroon, and floor length. Over my hips were tan bags that made my small frame look curvier. Big hips were the fashion.
I plucked at my sleeves, trying to figure out if I could make the dress look better. I finally made a decision, and I pulled the red sleeves off my shoulders, showing much more skin. I bit my lower lip, still looking at the outfit; I grabbed the stiff base of my corset. The velvety material felt great under my cold fingers. I tugged at the corset pulling it down about an inch, showing more cleavage and skin. My collar bones stood out under my golden, tight skin.
Everyone always said I had the best skin. And face. And everything. Throughout my life people have told me I was an angel sent from the heavens. I never really believed any of it, I only nodded and responded politely like my mother and finishing school instructor told me to.
I bit harder on my lower lip, trying purposely to make is swell. I looked in the mirror as I let go of it with my teeth. It was much plumper now, making my mouth have the same shape as a plum. I gave a quick smile, making my lips thin slightly. The pinkness of them stood out from my tan skin.
I glanced back at the mirror, sighing. My silvery blond hair was draped over my shoulders as if dead. My hair was oddly blonde. It was about the same colour as the sand in the great beaches in France.
I shuttered, FRANCE.
A rapping sound on my door brought me out of my forming thought of that dreadful place. I rolled my eyes; the maids had been trying to get in here forever. 'It's your wedding day, it is unfit for you to get yourself ready.' I let out an airy laugh; it was as if the maids formed together and created a mob. There weapons of choice: pearls, ribbons, and wedding dresses.
I shook my head, forcing my attention back onto my hair. I grabbed a black silk ribbon, then paused trying to decide if I wanted a pony tail or a bun. The ribbon was suddenly snatched out of my hands.
I was beginning to turn around when two hands were firmly put on my hips. I paused for a second realizing two things. One: these hands were rough much meaning that they were working hands. Two: these hands were abnormally large, which meant they were Nathanial's hands. His hands held me securely.
"Hello Mrs. Sidney Arnett." He addressed me, his mouth dangerously close to my throat. His warm breath tickled my neck, yet at the same time warmed it.
"Shush, someone might here you." I growled though it sounded much more playful and inviting then the rudeness I intended. It was dangerous though, not the Sidney part of what he said, but the Arnett. If some one heard Miss Sidney Thatcher with the houseboy's last name, they would know. They would know we were married.
And not to Jean'luc Bettencourt.
"So?" Nathanial's voice got deeper as he used sarcasm. I could almost imagine his chocolate coloured eyes roll. His hands trailed up my arms and once he reached my shoulders he stopped and spun me around peering into my green eyes .
It was amazing how after ten years of knowing each other and having secret rendezvous he was still so outstanding to me. He had come here to England in 1852 when he was seven. We grew up together and were best friends. My mother wouldn't allow us to socialize, so we were forced to secretly communicate.. When we where thirteen he announced that he had a letter to go back to America. I begged him not to go then announced m
I put my head on his shoulder, my forehead and lips pressed against the itchy fabric of his wool shirt. The smells from the barn lingering in the fabrics, making him smell like hay.
My face felt as hot as his touch. I looked up at his face, sandy hair, unclean shave, brown eyes. So traditional yet so enthralling.
He stepped back, grabbing my left hand and twirling me a few times; I stumbled coming to a stop. Nathanial put his hands on my shoulders to stable me, his eyes roamed over my body taking in the dress. "As lovely as ever, Sidney." He grinned, my face heated up. He nodded as if agreeing with himself. "Though I am pretty sure the sleeves are meant to stay on your shoulders." His American accent entranced me.
I blinked, and then gave a toothy un-lady like grin. "Well this is my wedding," I started; I held my head up high as if proud about the wedding. I shook my head, it wasn't a real wedding it was more like the 'announced ending of my life.' I inwardly grinned; the name was suiting for the affair. "And," I continued, now stating the real reason. "I know it will drive you mad to have other men look at me." I thickened my English accent, Annunciating every word.
His eyebrows rose, though I noticed the corners of his mouth twitch, as though suppressing a smile. "True," he nodded as though agreeing with me. "Though I must say I loved your dress during OUR wedding. White is so much more traditional then red."
"It's Venetian.' I couldn't help but grin, remembering the wedding. Deep in the woods, a white horse and dress. So many rendezvous leading up to it: to the wedding. A rich governor's daughter and a poor American servant. I sighed, it sounded like a Shakespeare play. When I was younger I fell asleep during the plays, but now that I have been living one I have a newfound respect for them. "But red is the new white in France." I spat out the word 'France'.
Although I am secretly married and madly in love with Nathanial I did have the issue of my parents picking me a suitor.
Jean'luc Bettencourt.
My fiancé.
From France.
Who was making me move.
To France.
I shook my head, now feeling morbid. I was going to have to leave my love, my Nathanial. I would now be illegally married to Jean'luc Bettencourt and forced to leave Bath, England to Paris, France. I put my hand on my forehead, covering my eyes. My shoulders started to tremble and my throat closed up as a round of tears got ready to poor.
"Sidney, sweetheart." Nathanial sighed, sweeping me into his arms. I took in his scent, breathing deeply, forcing my tears to stop. He pulled back, placing his hand on my shoulders looking into my eyes. "We are going to get out of this," he promised, and then kissed my forehead.
"Miss Thatcher?" A squeaky female voice said. "I pulled away from him, his arms falling to his sides.
"Angel," I nodded, she was my personal maid. She looked at me then him, her blue eyes wide and frantic. Her brown hair was naturally curled in perfect ringlets. Too bad she had far too much hair for it seemed too expanded everywhere less then two feet away from her head.
"Sorry, I guess my turn with Miss Thatcher," he spat out my maiden name, "is up." He nodded, and then looked at me. "See you during the ceremony." He tipped an imaginary hat and left.
I watched him retreat from the room then looked at Angel, "Well, shoo." I shook my hand gesturing her to leave my room.
And like always…
She did.
"Love is a familiar. Love is a devil. There is no evil angel but Love.
Love's Labours Lost
I sat in the carriage heading to the 'announced ending of my life'. The six white horses clashed to the black background of the night. I stared out the window while my mother, cousins, and friends chattered.
"What a handsome fiancé..."
"Perfect wedding…"
"Amazing dress…"
"You're so lucky you're going to France…"
"I am so jealous…."
Everyone sounded the same. But none of them had been in true love. None of them had been held by a man. None of them had said and been told 'I love you'.
But none of them had had their lives be taken away from them. None of them had lost their love do to what their parents commanded. None of them had been trained since they were children to be a perfect woman. None of them had never had the chance to say no.
I stared out the window looking at the hills. The church was about a half of an hour away from my estate. I looked at my hands which were folded on my lap.
"Miss Thatcher?" Angel tugged on my shoulder; I slowly turned my head to look at her.
The crazy haired girl looked shocked as if she didn't expect me to register here. "We-"She stumbled with her words. "We are here."
"Thank you, Angel." I nodded, my throat suddenly feeling very sore. Ididn't want to speak. I slipped out of the wagon, ignoring the hand the driver offered me.
"Miss Thatcher, it is so good to see you!"
"Congratulations, Miss Thatcher!"
"We are so excited to be seeing you!"
The reporters for local presses were all over me. I stared at the church, not registering anything.
"Hello Mrs. Arnett," I imagined Nathanial saying, just as he had earlier. I solemnly swore to myself that I would hear him say that to me again.
"Come now." My father, William came out of the crowd tugging at my arm. I refused to speak as he brought me into the church. The stain glass windows didn't allow all of the natural's moons light enter the building. I looked at my father, forcing my eyes not to wet. It was time for the 'announced ending of my life'. "It is so wonderful you are doing this." My father started, "The family does need the money."
I felt my anger rise as he said that. Money, what? Was he saying I was a tool to get money? I forced myself to not slap him and I nodded. "I understand Daddy." I called him Daddy for I would only be with him for less then twenty-four hours. Then to France I go.
"Good," He put his hands on my shoulders. He opened his mouth as if to speak again, but then the music started. "Time to go," He grinned.
I nodded gulping. I didn't want this. I wanted to turn and sprint out the door. I wanted to run to Nathanial and beg him to take me away from this hell. But instead I lifted up my red skirt and took a step towards the door.
As the door opened the lights blinded me. White streamers hung from the wall, flowers in every corner. Everything was perfect. Except for the groom.
My groom.
I blanked out, naturally remembering how to take the steps in the way my mother ordered me too.
First step, pause for a second.
Four steps, pause for two seconds.
Then keep walking two steps and pause, till I get to the altar.
Glide don't stumble.
Smile and look at my groom.
I mentally went over the directions in my head, my heart rate going so fast I could hear it in my ears.
As I took the first step my mind sped to a different place. A place in my past.
Dandelions, the smell of spring. Green trees and grass wet from the dew. My legs
The Bestmans Bride Cierra Powers
are itchy but I keep running. He was close.
Closer.
Closer.
Right behind me.
I laughed as Nathanial tackled me onto the soft, damp ground. He pinned me, his head less then a foot above mine. He had a quizzical look on his face. I wonder what he is seeing in my bright green eyes.
My father tugged at my arm, not in a rude way but in a way to snap me back to my thoughts. My heart quickened even more. I was already half way there. Half way to the end of my life.
I tore my gaze away from the groom, although my mother advised me multiple times before not to, and my eyes adverted to the décor.
I looked at the white lace draped over a three foot high stand. On it was a velvety red pillow with a bouquet of white roses and two rings.
My father tugged my arm again.
I forced my gaze back on to Jean'luc Bettencourt.
His hair was black and pulled back; it ended at the back of his neck and curled up. My eyes scanned over the rest of his face, as my feet slowly glided down the aisle. He had bright blue eyes and giant eyebrows. Nathanial always said they looked like some caterpillars got stuck on his face. He had a black pencil point mustache, but other then that a clean shave.
I sighed, I was at the alter.
My father gave him my hand; Jean'luc Bettencourt's hand felt rough on mine. I stood parallel to him. I was at least two inches taller, which made me feel uncomfortable. He was in a black tuxedo, with a maroon vest under it.
I bit my lips as he leaned forword to kiss my cheek. I leaned back slightly and he got the message, pulling back to his up straight position. I looked around at the bridesmaids, as the priest began with a prayer. They were all in red dresses that ended at the ground. The dresses were long sleeved and had white bows on the chest. I rolled my eyes, starting to avert my gaze to the best men.
I nearly toppled over in shock. There stood Nathanial, in the best man's position. He was stunning, wearing a maroon tuxedo with a white undershirt. Although he was in the same attire as the others, he stood out like a cat in a pack of dogs. Or at least to me he did.
I met his gaze, and he flashed me a grin. I couldn't help but grin back, my cheeks immediately flaming. I raised my eye brow trying to ask him through body language, 'Where was Jean'luc Bettencourt's best friend Jeremy?'
Nathanial understood, and jerked his head slightly in the direction of the booths. I attempted to turn my head ever so slightly, to look at the front bench. My mother gave me a scornful look, but I ignored her. My gaze drifted to the far end of the bench and set apron Jeremy who was looking rather content.
I looked closer, trying to figure out why Jeremy gave up his seat. I noticed a light lilac bag, full of coins. I grinned my head snapping back towards Nathanial. I head remembered giving him that same bag not to long ago.
"Darling, keep this." Nathanial tried to hand me back the small velvet bag full of gold coins.
"No," I insisted not moving my hands from my hips. "I f I am going to France you need some extra pay."
"And why would that be, Sidney?" He raised an eyebrow a slight grin on his face.
"For, if I do go, you need money to find a way to get to me," I nodded.
"You, Miss Sidney Arnett, are not going to France. I will not need this bag to chase after you, for I will not let you go. Clear?"
I felt my heart leap, my cheeks flamed. "Clear," I nodded, and he swept me into his arms. After a moment I opened my mouth again, "But really keep the money for something important."
He must have paid Jeremy, I mused. Nathanial gave me a wink.
'I love you,' I mouthed. I didn't have to worry about anyone seeing me for my back was turned to the audience, and Jean'luc Bettencourt was paying attention to the priest.
Nathanial's grin turned into a full pledged smile his white teeth showing through. I smiled back.
A hand intertwined with mine. I looked down to see Jean'luc Bettencourt holding my hand. I slowly brought my gaze to his face. He was looking at me, his eyes sparking. He gave me a smile his yellow and brown teeth showing. I attempted not to gag. His foul breath warmed my face and some of my neck since he was so short. It smelled like fish. I grinned back shyly, and then looked at the priest.
I pulled my hand away, while pretending to yawn; a true lady always covers her mouth. I let my hands fall back to my side but made sure it wasn't in Bettencourt's grasp. I looked at Nathanial and pretended to gag.
He crinkled his nose trying not to laugh.
"Jean'luc Bettencourt?" The priest addressed my fiancé. "Repeat after me."
Bettencourt looked shocked, just as Angel does at times. He seemed as though he was surprised he was even brought up during the 'announce ending of my life' ceremony. "I do!" He stuttered. I crinkled my nose, looking at him.
"Huh?" I said.
He looked at me then the priest. "I mean yeah I will." He stuttered even more his tan face becoming red. "I will repeat after you…" he explained.
"Yes," The priest nodded. He looked at me, as if thinking 'You're marring him?' I shrugged. "I Jean'luc Marianne Bettencourt."
Jean'luc Bettencourt repeated.
I glanced at Nathanial, giving him a large smile. He was at the moment having a silent laughing fit. His face was read and he was leaning on one of my father's friend's shoulders trying to stand up. I turned my head to the side slightly, a grin still glued on my face. He was either laughing at Jean'luc Bettencourt's middle name, or the 'repeat after me' incident.
I rolled my eyes, and then looked at the priest. My heart hammered as he asked me to repeat after him.
"I Sidney Margaret Thatcher," I repeated then blanked out for the rest. Although I knew I was repeating him, my thoughts were on my first wedding.
"I do." I nodded as Nathanial swept me into his arms kissing me.
It was the BEST kiss ever.
I didn't want it to end.
"And do you Sidney Margaret Thatcher take Jean'luc Marianne Bettencourt as your lawful wedding husband?"
If there were any moment to say not it would be now. If there WERE such thing as true love it would have to say it NOW.
I opened my mouth to talk, but no words came out. I felt everyone's gaze on me. I felt faint, my face hot.
Suddenly I felt a person step to my side. Nathanial.
"She doesn't," he said. His voice was strong,powerful, and in love.
The crowd gasped, and I stood like a statue as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I looked up at the priest.
"I don't."
My life was like on of Shakespeare's plays. When I
was younger I fell asleep during the plays, But now
living through one, I had a newfound respect
for his masterpieces. Who wouldn't love
a scandalous love story? I sure don't.
