Author's Note: Thank you for giving my story a go! This is my first in the fan fiction world. I'm pleased to introduce my 19th century British bride-to-be!
I arrived at the house by nightfall. The carriage rolled up the drive as the coachman steered the horses slightly to the left and stopped. I could see little of the grand house in the twilight but could tell that it was elegant, cold, and imposing. Much like its residents, I feared. The coachman jumped down from his seat and opened my door, helping me out. He had never made eye contact during our entire voyage.
The butler greeted me at the door with a sour expression. He appeared very proper, almost regimental. I tried to smile but was too tired to make much of an effort. The trip here had been difficult, as the coachman had driven the horses hard to make it here quickly. My body ached from the jostling of the days-long journey. As apprehensive as I was about this new life ahead of me, I was glad that at least this was over.
I was received in the foyer and guided by servants to a lovely room on the second floor. A fire was burning and I was grateful for the warmth. The Scottish air was brisk and damp and the fire was a welcome respite. The maid who had led me to the room assisted me in changing out of my traveling dress and into a dressing gown. She informed me that dinner would be served at eight; the family would gather in the parlor beforehand. I did not ask why no member of the household had met me when I arrived; I knew I was not a cherished guest. Only my dowry was.
After a much-appreciated rest by the fire, the maid fetched a recently unpacked gown for me to wear to dinner. I hoped that I would look elegant enough for this household. After seeing this grand house, I had a feeling that the family who lived here believed in very high standards. "Once more into the breech," I muttered, and strode downstairs. In the parlor I saw them all.
The father lounged in a chair by the fire, already indulging in a glass of Scotch. From the redness of his face, I assumed it was not his first of the evening. He barely acknowledged my presence. A dashing young man stood by the fire with an elbow on the mantle. He smiled at my entrance, winked, and then resumed his conversation with the lady next to him. She appeared stern, dressed in an uninspired color with her graying hair pulled in a tight bun. She never stopped frowning, in stark contrast to her conversation partner, who never took the smirk off his face. I waited patiently, hoping a resident of the room would greet me. It was improper for a young lady to speak to those with whom she was unacquainted. Finally, the frowning lady turned and sighed. The young man proclaimed, "You must be she, yes? Welcome to the Hall."
"Thank you, sir," I answered as gracefully as I could. I had hoped for a warmer welcome to my new home but was not surprised not to receive one. "She's plain," the lady stated. "But we do what we must."
I grimaced. I did not need confirmation to know that I was not a great beauty, but no one wants to hear that as a stranger's first impression. "Ah, but the contracts have been signed, so here she is," the young man replied. "I am James. And you are Isabella?"
"Yes sir, thank you. Pleased to make your acquaintance."
"Ah, we are soon to be married. No need to be too formal," he smirked, taking a drink of his Scotch. "When is dinner? I'm starved. Been out hunting all day."
The stern lady smiled approvingly. "Yes, I know my dear. Let us go to dinner. Carlisle, walk me in. James must escort his bride."
It was then that I noticed movement in the dark corner of the parlor. A man stood up. He was not smartly dressed like James but was properly attired. It appeared that he did not care for fashion as much as his compatriot. The lady saw him and appeared surprised, as if she had forgotten that he was in the room. "Oh Edward, do stop skulking around. It's time for dinner. Remember to be on your best behavior, as your brother's fiancée has arrived."
Edward grimaced as if the thought was distasteful. I wondered if he did not approve of me and this marriage. But he said nothing, following us into the dining room.
I was so very hungry from traveling all day but tried to eat like a lady as to not disgust my new family. James hardly noticed me; periodically it seemed like the family did not remember that I was at the table. I felt invisible but knew that bad manners would gain their attention. I would rather not be noticed. Edward never said a word during the meal. James entertained the lady, his Aunt Esme. I learned that she had moved here once Carlisle's wife had died to raise the boys. It was clear that James was her favorite. Carlisle paid attention to little but his food and drink.
After the meal I was sent to bed. I lay in the dark, thinking about my new family. What stories are here? Why do they treat each other as they do? I wondered how long it would take to figure out.
The next day, Aunt Esme informed me that she was expecting guests that afternoon. The neighbors came every week for tea. I chose to wear a beautiful dress that was robin egg blue, hoping that my appearance would make me worthy of the family. No one commented on it, but I was thankful for no frowns from the lady of the house. I wondered if I would be treated thus after I was married to James.
Lady Margaret arrived with her daughters like she was the queen condescending to greet her subjects. Her ill-fitting green gown strained a bit across her breasts. I wondered if her dressmaker had designed it so. "Hello my dear Esme," she bellowed, "I have come to see this chit that had bought her way into your family."
It took me a moment to realize that she was referring to me. I felt like a fool, never thinking that a guest of the house would state this so boldly. I wanted to cry that no, I did not buy my role in this family, but that they took me for my money. Instead, I tried to take the shocked look off my face and appear immune to her hateful words. Behind Lady Margaret was her daughter Victoria wearing a red dress that complemented her own fiery waves of hair. She was beautiful, demure, and intimidating. The longer they stayed, the more horrified I became. James swept into the room and had eyes only for Victoria. I realized that he was her beau; how could we be married? All hopes I had of a happy marriage were dashed. I stared at the rug, my eyes following the patterns as I tried to reconcile myself to the situation. I knew I would not run the household here, as Aunt Esme obviously enjoyed this role, and now I knew that neither would I have a faithful husband. My mood resembled the darkened skies as thunder became to rumble at the horizon.
Lady Margaret and Victoria condescended to stay for dinner, as they could not return home in the fearful storm. Aunt Esme was pleased to have them. In an odd manner, it felt like Victoria was the honored fiancée and I was a poor cousin allowed to stay at the Hall. We were in the middle of the meal when I heard the front door swing open. Carlisle frowned, but I felt he was more offended by someone interrupting his meal rather than the impolite manners. Edward stepped into the dining room, his boots covered in mud. The ladies were all horrified excepting me. I thought Edward appeared as a great warrior. His eyes surveyed the room and then he turned and left. We heard him call to the butler asking for his dinner to be brought to his room. I envied him his privacy.
Aunt Esme bristled with indignation. "How dare he! I raised both boys to be gentlemen but Edward shows none of it. He was an officer but acts as if he drove the service wagon."
Lady Margaret nodded in agreement. "You always knew, my dear, that he would never be the great gentleman. Even as boy he was a ruffian."
James laughed as he turned sideways, leaning his right arm on the back of the chair. "We can't all be a proper gentleman, Aunt Esme. It's the natural order of things."
Victoria giggled and nodded approvingly. The child in me wanted to throw food at her and stomp off like Edward. But as you know, ladies do not behave thus.