Petticoats thoroughly starched and stays pulled tight, Emma Swan drifted into the main house of Seven Oaks in a cloud of perfumed powder and swishing muslin.
When the carriage from Tara had arrived, they had immediately been surrounded by a swarm of eager suitors, jostling to help the oldest Swan daughter down and help her avoid the dustier patches of ground. Behind her she could hear the annoyed tutting of her two younger sisters as they were left to fend for themselves.
The morning summer sun was already hot under her bonnet. The barbecue pits ran along the other side of the house, away from the view of the attendees, but the sweet scent of cooking meats filled her nostrils and made her belly rumble. Granny had tried to make her eat, almost forcing a biscuit into her mouth, but Emma had steadfastly refused. She knew even a bite or two would have made it impossible to lace her waist down to 22 inches, and she was determined to wear her new apple-green dress in just that size.
The heat and the hunger were making her lightheaded. As the men swarmed around her like eager bees, she smiled and batted her lashes, shamelessly accepting their compliments on her dress and how well she looked, while also expertly maintaining each's attention, without ever agreeing to any requests to eat barbecue with one or another of them.
A hand to her cheek, complaining of the heat, had sent the small heard off in search of a glass of cool water. Relieved, Emma had headed towards the shade of the house.
Seven Oaks was one of the oldest plantations in Clayton County. The Humbert's were a family of old money, as her father would say. They had lived for generations in the more populated parts of Georgia, before setting out for unclaimed land when the demand for cotton made the purchase of a plantation a worthwhile, though still genteel, endeavor.
Tall white pillars, higher than the tallest trees in Tara, guarded the entrance, which was reached by a short flight of low-slung stairs. The seven oaks that gave the estate its name cast a small amount of shade on the vestibule. Emma shivered a little in pleasure when she felt the cooler air.
The wide, oak doors that guarded the entrance had been flung wide the welcome the visitors. Inside there was a hubbub of activity. Upon the staircase, ladies in colorful dresses mingled with smartly dressed gents; wide hoops clashing against the finely pressed linen trousers as the mass of people moved back and forth.
Loosening the straps of her bonnet, Emma smiled widely when she saw Ruby Lucas running over to meet her. In her signature red, Ruby was a scarlet vision, her brown curls pooled atop her head and her cheeks ever so light rouged.
"Emma! I have been looking for you!"
The two exchanged small kisses as Emma hung her hat ribbons from her wrist. It seems the Tara party was some of the last to arrive. "I'm sorry love, I had to fight with Granny to wear what I wanted."
"I can't believe you still let her boss you around so much!" Ruby laughed.
"Have you seen Granny?" Emma retorted, "Even Pa is afraid of her when she is in one of her moods!"
Her friend nodded in agreement as the two pushed their way past a group of younger girls wearing heavily frilled skirts. They looked at each other knowingly - frills had been out of fashion for at least a year.
Finally they reached a quieter side of the room where they could observe the proceedings and catch up, while also allowing Emma to avoid her amorous beaux. They each claimed an icy glass of lemonade and Emma eagerly sipped the sweet, bitter liquid. Ruby divulged all the news from her recent trip to Charleston, while Emma reeled off the name of three men who had begged leave to court her in the month they had been apart.
"None took your fancy?" Ruby teased.
Emma pulled a face - pinching her nose and sticking out her tongue, before her cheeks reddened and she looked down.
"Emma…"
"What?" she snapped.
"Is this about who I think it is?"
Avoiding her friend's gaze, Emma studied the small lemon pit that had been left in the drink as it floated languidly over the pale surface. She felt her friend's hand slip to her bare shoulder.
"He's engaged."
"So?" Emma cried, her posture tightening as she became defensive.
"So? He's going to marry someone else. Soon. You know that, right?"
Emma shrugged her shoulders.
"And you know he sees you more as a little sister than anything else…"
The words were soft and kindly meant, but Emma felt a small shiver of annoyance run down her spine. Graham Humbert was by far the kindest, most intelligent, handsomest man she had ever met and she had spent the past three years trying to get his attention.
"You know he sends me books, and sits with me on the porch when he's done visiting pa, and remember the midsummer ball? Why I swear he almost touched my hand-"
Ruby's tightening fingers stilled her words.
Yes, Ruby was probably right. Yes, he was engaged. But Emma Swan was a girl used to getting her own way and the fact that Graham was the only man in three counties who had not tried to court her only made him all the more appealing.
As she glanced up to change the conversation, her eyes locked with a pair she had never seen. Startlingly blue, she was stunned for a moment; almost frozen in place, by curious eyes framed with dark, seductive lashes.
After a second or two, she shook herself and saw they belonged to a tall man with thick, dark hair who was leaning over the balcony above them. He was expensively, though understatedly dressed, in a black velvet dress coat and blue silk cravat. The man seemed out of place amongst the young country men who filled the rest of the room - a little bit older, indeed, but more than that, his face showed the signs of having lived and seen things. It was something in the way his brow was lightly creased and the light beard that highlighted the sharp angle of his jaw.
She realized she was staring.
Just then, he raised his glass - it looked like liquor - and she almost forgot herself and did the same in return. Instead, she felt the previous glow of her cheeks resume and spread to her décolleté - his eyes roaming freely over her frame as a wicked smile licked at the corners of his lips. She gasped, sucking in a quick breath and unable to keep the look of indignation from her face. How dare he smile at her, they were not introduced.
Her reaction only made his smile deeper.
"Who is that?" she hissed at Ruby, taking a step back closer to the wall until they were almost - almost - out of his eyesight and gesturing with her eyes in his direction.
"Him?" Ruby raised her brows, "Why that there is Killian Jones."
"He looks as if he knows what I look like without my shimmy!"
Hot and annoyed, Emma felt bare under his gaze. She checked, he was still looking. The heat had begun to trickle down her body. Secretly, she quite liked it. Thinking quickly, Emma scanned through her vast list of local families but came up blank.
"Where is he from?" she asked, feeling intrigued despite his indiscretion; new folks didn't often venture this far out into the country without good reason.
"He's from Charleston."
Ah, Emma thought, the Charleston Jones'.
"But he's not received," Ruby added, pulling her fan from her pocket and starting to wave it through the thick, humid air.
"Not received?" Emma echoed.
She had never met someone who wasn't received. To be shunned by good society - and your own family - a person would need to have done something scandalous. This, of course, gave her another involuntary pique of interested. "How exciting," she almost purred, shooting another glance in his direction. He still stood in the same place, watching the two. Coyly, she batted her lashes (the way she knew men loved), dropping her shoulder to give him a better view of her cleavage in the low cute dress.
In the corner of her eyes, she could see his brows rising. She looked again; he was running his tongue over his bottom lip. A seemingly innocent gesture, but he made it seem positively indecent.
"Indeed," Ruby agreed, leaning closer, "They say he is a pirate."
"Pirate?" Emma cried, perhaps a little too loudly as the few people around them turned to look, giving her strange smiles before returning to their previous engagement. "You mean like with a ship?"
"That's what they say…"
Ruby looped their arms together and began to steer Emma towards the large lawn at the back of the house that had been prepared for the barbecue with long wooden benches and linen tablecloths. The two continued their idle conversation as they stepped outside.
A pirate, Emma thought, how exciting…
[Whilst at the same time clinging to her Southern belle's morality and trying to feel insulted that he had looked at her so.
Trying.]
TBC…
Review? Pretty please?