Elijah
I was truly unsure what to do. With my baby sister on my tail, and my elder sister sick in bed, I meagerly went upstairs to my own chamber, my head already beginning to pound furiously. Faith had been right, though. Denise and I needed to be extremely careful, especially with my knowing sisters. But Faith wouldn't give us away, not with her own love to fret over.
Slapping cold water onto my cheeks, I collapsed onto my sturdy bed, flinging my sweaty coat and neckerchief onto the mahogany floor. Burying my head in my hands, I groaned loudly at the thought of the love between Denise and I coming to an end. Denise was humble, sweet, caring, and attentive, everything I'd wanted in a future wife. And that was my intention, right? To marry her? She'd told me from the start she wouldn't have any foolery. I can still hear her tinkling voice as she chided, "None of that short-lived love for us, understand?"
Taking huffy, deep breaths, I shut my eyes tightly, remembering the curls of her long, shimmery blond hair, her soft, cool lips, and her wandering, twinkling ocean-blue eyes surrounded by thick, dark eyelashes. How could I not fall head-over-heels for her? But Faith's question would be just the opposite. How could I fall in love with her? A scullery maid, none the less. But position was nothing to me, as it should be, for my father knew well enough when he married my mother it was not out of money, but out of love, pure, wholesome love. He would understand…or I'd at least try to make him understand.
Father was a man of reason, of understanding…a knowing man of love and feelings. He'd know, he'd understand. But understanding and comprehending my actions and feelings towards Denise were two very different things. Maybe one of my sisters, probably Talia, who was much more reasonable and easygoing than Faith, could teach her how to be a respectable lady? It was indeed possible. Talia was much less suspicious and judging than Faith. My elder sister was saintly in the majority of her ways, an attribute she had yet to deliver to our baby sister. I felt myself relax at the thought of Denise wearing silken gowns and robes and slippers like my sisters, doting imperial fans and shiny, wholesome pearl necklaces. Yes, my sisters could make her a fine, respectable lady. My fine respectable lady