'I'm back mother,' Margaret announced as she returned to the cottage with the medicine and the food she had bought from the market, of which she placed on the table and went through to the living room to find her mother laid up in the bed they had there. They only had the two rooms, the kitchen and the living room which doubled as a bed chamber, a bed chamber for her mother. Margaret rarely slept, kept awake at night with the fear that her mother might die whilst she did sleep. Margaret was not so selfish that she would sleep while her mother lay there, each breath so laborious for her, so much so that it was hard for her to breathe.
'Come here my daughter,' the old woman called to her young daughter who dutifully made her way to the grey haired woman's bed side. Her mother was so much younger than she actually appeared but the illness she had, her health was so poor that it had taken everything from her, everything that she'd had, all the colour in her face, her hair. And the wrinkles in her face were deep set because of the effort and the stress written on her face.
'I'm here mother, I bought your medicine from the apothecary,' Margaret said as she took the medicine from the bag and administered it to her mother. She saw the look of worry in her mother's eyes, knew that the woman knew she, her daughter, was worried. But Margaret would never tell her mother that they were running out of money and that soon they would not have the means to buy any more medicine. Though ill, her mother was so happy that Margaret just did not want to be the one to give her the bad news.
There were many reasons behind her refusal to be the bearer of bad news. The main reason was, her mother was the last of her family she had, she didn't want to speak for she knew she would be devastated at the confirmation of her mother's final end. She didn't need her mother there because she was dependant on the woman, no the woman had been dependant on her for many years. Margaret needed the woman there because she needed the love that came with the maternal mother, so much love her daughter wondered how she didn't implode with it all.
'You're such a good girl Maggie,' the old woman said using the sweet name she'd given her daughter when she'd grown. Margaret's face fell. No, she was not a good girl, she was not a good daughter. If she was any of those things she would have married many of the suitors stopping at her door. Then she could have the money she needed to get her mother more medicine, and keep he alive a little longer. Her mother needed more time. And if she didn't have a lot left anyway, Margaret would be sure her mother saw her married.
'Mother I...' she began to confess that she did not feel like a good girl, that she felt as though she had betrayed her mother by not marrying any of the men she had been asked by. But now she didn't care if the men wanted her for her body, or for the possibility to capture her heart. She would marry the very next man who asked her. The next suitor who came to the door would be the very man she married, the very man she said yes to.
And it was at that moment in time that at the door there came a knock. Taking a deep breath, knowing only one type of person came to her door any more. Suitors. Had they heard her thoughts, spotted her on her way back or did they just know she was running out of money at long last?
'Margaret would you get the door my love?' Her mother asked and she nodded.
'It's a suitor,' she reminded her mother who smiled wide, her teeth showing. She was excited; because as much as she would have loved for her daughter to have married for love, she knew it could take a very long time. The woman wanted to see her daughter married just as much as she wanted her to find love. She just had to see her daughter married.
And as Margaret made her way to the door she was filled with a sense of dread. Could she truly marry a man she did not find attractive or did not love? Was there no such thing as a soul mate for her?
'Good afternoon my love,' the man at the door greeted when she answered him. He was handsome, she would credit him that, he had beautiful long blonde hair and the most beautiful baby blue eyes. He was handsome, she knew he was rich, he'd asked her for her hand before. All that said, Maggie did not love him.
'Hello Steven,' Maggie replied and when he bent on one knee to ask her the question and display the little wooden box, her heart leapt but not in a good way. She was nervous because she knew she had to say yes, for the sake of her mother; the woman who had birthed her, raised her and given her everything she could have ever asked for. At least until the illness caught her.
'Margaret I know you refuse every time I ask this question of you, but I won't give up. I am wealthy I can give you everything you want and need. Everything you've ever wanted and needed. Just say yes, just marry me,' Steven begged and Margaret, her heart beating in her throat, her palms sweaty and her breath refusing to make it out of her throat nodded her head.
'I will marry you,' she said when she could breathe well enough. 'I will marry you, but my mother comes with us and she gets all the medicine she needs,' Margaret decided to barter and Steven nodded.
'Of course, I wouldn't expect anything less from such a caring woman as you. The wedding will be Sunday and we will be happy. I promise you my love, I'll be faithful and I'll take such good care of you, you'll want for nothing,' Steven said and when he stood and kissed her she felt nothing. He wasn't for her but she had to marry him.
And Sunday? Well that was only six days away, what with it being Monday. She had six days to get herself ready for the fact that she will be married and a wife in less than a week. She'd put on a front ever since her father died, she was good at it and she would keep that talent when she married a man she could not love, a man she loved only as a good friend. But hey she wouldn't find the man she loved before Sunday. She didn't even think he lived in the kingdom.
