Courting (Isa)Bella
When my father told me he had arranged for me to meet a potential young lady friend, a nurse from his hospital, I was dubious.
At the ripe old age of twenty five, he seemed sure I should be married by now, even if I was trying to follow in his footsteps in my training to become a Physician. He considered himself something of an expert on the subject of marriage, having remarried after the death of my mother.
This eighteen year old, eligible lady's father, Charles Swan, owned a farm not far away and was hoping to carry it on through his only daughter's marrying and having a family.
Wholesome was the word my father had used to describe Isabella. Such a word did not do her justice. She was simply breath-taking. All long lines and elegance.
We walked with a chaperone upon our first meeting, her skirt trailing the floor, her corseted silhouette the shape of an 'S'.
I admired how slim she was, her waist narrow, but her chest and hips full in her attire. It gave her the illusion of confidence, but I could tell she was a tad shy, which was most endearing.
I was fortunate enough to share more time with her and after a handful of outings I even found the audacity to steal a kiss or two.
Sometimes, when I thought of Isabella in…inappropriate ways, I grew hot under the stiff wings of my collar, a stiffness that could only be rivalled by that which I felt within my suit trousers.
But my intentions were good and not all of thoughts regarding her were unsavoury. I saw her in the future, glowing and plump with my child. I imagined a young boy years from now, in a sailor suit, me teaching him how to ride a bicycle.
I had gone to Mr Swan first, of course, asked his permission.
Then, I had made sure I looked my most presentable—moustache curled, hair combed, before bringing Isabella out on to the porch, watching her sip her cool iced tea.
As the drink worked to cool her from the summer's heat, I found myself wanting to heat her further, to pull away her dress and neck at her, pet her, like in some of those movies.
But this was not one of those movies and she was not a common whore. She was my Isabella.
So, I got down on one knee, presenting my mother's ring to her and asked her to do me the extraordinary honour of being wife.
