"What?" I asked in a cold and sarcastic tone of voice. "I said, Heather, that you shall marry Lord Cutler Beckett," my older brother, James Norrington, told me. "I heard what you said." I said in the same tone of voice as before, glaring angrily at him. "But why?"
James, reflected my evil glare right back to me. "Because," he started, "ever since Mum and Dad died and left me to take care of you guys, we've been running low on money!"
I shifted under my dusty rose colored 17th century dress. "So what does that have to do with me?!?" He calmed down a little, sat down next to me, and said, "If you marry him, Felicity (our younger sister) and I won't have to go to the poor house."
"But I don't understand," I said, tears welling up in my eyes. "Why can't you get married?"
"Lord Beckett has admired you for a long time," He told me. "Lord Beckett told me personally that he had admired you since the second you two met." I smiled slightly. "James, that's impossible," I told my brother. "We met when we were both young toddlers. There's no possible way he could remember how he felt about me the second that we met."
James closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. I thought that he was going to yell again, but he surprised me. "Heather," he said coolly, " Do you want to save Felicity and me from the poor house." I had to make a quick decision. I didn't want my family to loose everything we had, but I also didn't want to be miserable.
I stood up, and said, the tears finally rolling down my cheeks, "I do. When shall we have a talk with my new, fiancée?" He smiled, and hugged me. "In about an hour," James told me, letting me cry on his shoulder. I was not crying tears of happiness like a bride-to-be should, but instead, tears of fear and disappointment. Ever since I was a little girl, I had always dreamed about marrying someone who I was in love with. Beckett and I were friends when we were younger, but I had never had feelings for him. I was afraid of loosing my freedom and rights to a man I didn't love.
But I had to be brave for my family, and do what I thought was best for them. Maybe, even though I didn't love Beckett right now, he would grow on me.
One hour later
Beckett was going to be here any minuet now. Just as I thought that, I heard the most frightening and intimidating phrase in the English dictionary for a bride-to-be waiting for her forced-upon-her fiancée to arrive at her house. "Ding-dong!" He was here. I smoothed out my dress and long wavy dark brown hair as I went to answer the door.
When I opened the door, there stood a slightly pale man, wearing a white wig and formal looking clothes. He WAS a handsome creature, the man standing in front of me. "Lord Beckett, I presume?" I asked him with my classy British accent.
"Heather," Lord Beckett said, taking my hand and kissing it," You look lovely as ever." I still didn't know quite what to say of our engagement. "And you, milord, look like you like you are dressed to meet the queen of England."
"But I am meeting someone just a gorgeous." I batted my hazel colored eyes at him. "And," he continued, "In view of the circumstances, Heather, you could call me Cutler."
I smiled slightly at him. "Ok, Cutler," I said, taking his hand and leading him into the sitting room. "Let me fetch my brother James and our little sister Felicity. But do make yourself at home!"
I went off to fetch James and Felictiy, leaving Cutler alone for the second, giving him the choice of sitting on the couch, floor, of piano bench. I found James first, sitting alone in father's old study, which was now James's, looking at a photo albam. I saw which photo he was looking at in particular. It was a photo of Mum and Dad, our older sister, Brandy, who was married and living in Switzerland, and James when he was just a newborn.
"James," I whispered to him, " You can cry in front of me, for I miss them too." I kissed his cheek lightly, which was already wet with tears. We hugged, James crying, me wanting to. Ever since our parents had died but a few years ago, all three of us had felt like we were all included in our favriote book series, "A series of unfortunate events".
We felt like the Baudilaire orphans, like we had been living in a world of love and riches, that had been replaced by a world of danger, fear, and hurt when our parents left us. Instead of us knowing that people saw us as James, Heather, and Felicity, we thought that people saw us the Norrington orphans.
"James," I whispered to him, pulling away from his grasp, "Lord Becket is here now." He swallowed back his tears that had not yet been released and said, "That's fine. Tell him I shall be right out after I wash up a little." I patted his shoulder. "I shall, James. Take as long as you need, I'm sure he will understand."
I closed the door behind me, and walked acrossed the hallway to my 7 year old sister's room. "Felicity," I said peaking in. I saw her lying on her bed,looking at me, holding one of her dolls. "Felicity," I repeated. "Lord Beckett is out waiting for us in the sitting room." Felicity got up, taking some of the things on her bedroom floor into her arms. "Just give me a few minuets to make my room presentable," She told me. I granted her wish, and closed her door.
As I was walking back to the sitting room, I heard the most beautiful music. I went into the kitchen and took the roast duck I was making off the fire, and went quietly in to the sitting room. There I saw my fiancée, sitting at the piano, his arms moving slightly. I walked quietly up behind him, and watched over his shoulder as his fingers danced gracefully acrossed the keyboard, each leaving a beautiful noise from the key it recently pressed.
He looked behind his shoulder, and seemed startled when he saw me. He almost tipped over, but caught himself, but not the bench. He stood up and faced me, straightening his blue silk tie. "I apologize, Heather, how rude of me to…" I placed my finger delicately on his lips, silencing him for the moment. "Do not apologize, Cutler," I said to him softly. "You play beautifully." He stood in front of me, and smiled at me softly, me doing the same. I picked a daisy from the bouquet of flowers on the piano, and placed it in his palm. Maybe I WOULD warm up to him.