Read, enjoy and review!
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INTERLACED SOULS
Chapter 2
Rosegalaxia
**********
Lady Serenity Whittington smiled winningly at the young gentleman- Lord Frederick Grayson or some such name- who warily approached her, his young face filled with nervous anticipation. They had met previously before, several times but he was not the type of gentleman who interested Serenity. Though since the men whom she preferred were keeping as far away from her possible, she would have to make do.
Honestly though. She had thought that the delicate and fragile nature of a woman appealed to men. That was certainly not so in her case. You would think that she carried a fatal disease and not the burden of being an orphan, without any guardians or relatives left in the world. Also, without any particular fortune, as rumour, most truthfully, had it.
" May I have the pleasure of this dance m'lady?"
" Oh, but the pleasure is all mine." She graciously accepted his request and amused, watched the man's face clear of all uncertainty and fill, instead, with smug triumph at her reply.
Men were really so predictable, she thought, as he swept her off into the graceful movements of the dance. No doubt he would go back to his friends, puffed up with pride and tell them of how he had known that he would be accepted, of how he was more of a man than any of them since he had won a dance with her. Really. She might look tolerantly on their antics if she was in a more favourable mood but honestly. No-one could fault her for her behaviour considering... considering the circumstances she was trapped in.
Forcing her mind away from the depressing thought which plagued her wherever she went, whatever she did, she spun around, her curled silver hair flying around with her movements, and laughed at something Lord Grayson said. Her eyes, the colour of clear water when the sun's rays reflected on the surface, twinkled in the merriment she displayed for the world to see. No-one need know that her spirit was wilting inside her, slowly, painfully, day by agonising day as the day she would have to make the choices she did not want to make, loomed closer. Choices which were really no choices at all.
A shiver coursed through her as she thought of the repercussions she would have to face after her decision. The consequences she was having to face at the moment. Again, brushing off the wholly unwanted train of thought, she gazed at Lord Grayson and willed her mind to loose itself into the petty fun and laughter of the ball. It would not do for her to fall into the black void part of her mind was already in. This Season was her last chance. If she did not find a husband- a rich husband- she would have to sell her soul to the very devil.
Rising from the traditional curtsy which followed the end of the dance, she stiffened almost imperceptibly as she felt the brush of cold fingers against her spine. Goosebumps arose on her skin and she abruptly spun around to look behind her, to see who had dared touch her. But no-one was immediately behind her. No-one near enough to her to have taken the liberty. Then what was it she had felt? Her eyes darted around the hall but nothing looked suspicious. No women slyly hiding their faces behind their elaborately decorated fans. No men watching her with conceited eyes, lifting their glasses of alcohol to her in a mocking salute. Just... her imagination? It had to be. Nothing else.
Shaking her head slightly in uneasy bemusement, she turned around again to face Lord Grayson who was regarding her with puzzled and concerned eyes. She smiled at him to dispel any doubts he might have on her saneness.
" May I request your hand for the next dance as well m'lady?"
Serenity smiled again, this time in polite refusal. " I am afraid that I am feeling quite drained and may sit out this dance."
He remained standing before her stubbornly. " Perhaps later?"
She nodded uncommittedly. " Perhaps."
" Until then, maybe a walk in the gardens would soothe your mind? I would be delighted to accompany you."
Without waiting for a reply, he placed her hand on his arm and swept with her towards the open doors. Serenity's face had tightened in annoyance at Lord Grayson's high-handedness but as she felt the cool night air wash over her heated face, she let him lead her out. She did need the fresh air for ever since that incident where her mind had started imagining things- just imagining- she had felt quite... not herself. It felt as if intent eyes had been staring at her unblinkingly, willing her to seek them out and challenge the owner to the right of viewing her with the unwavering gaze she was being subjected to. The stress of the past few months must be catching up to her.
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His eyes slit in anger as she and that man disappeared from view. How dare she go to the gardens with another man? Did she not realise the conclusion people would come to? As for that milking-fop, Lord Frederick Grayson, what could she be thinking of? He was nothing but a boy, intent on claiming her for his own.
Enough was enough.
He had watched her for the past fortnight, dancing with other men, letting them lay their filthy hands on her luscious flesh, not giving a thought to whom she belonged to, to the only man who was allowed to touch her. Of course she did not know who he was, physically, but their souls called out to each other. She should be aware of him except that her preoccupation with other men was blinding her.
It must stop. He must take matters into his own hands. She would come to him, surrender to him, love him... free him.
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The next morning, Lady Serenity Whittington and a dozen other highly acclaimed members of the ton were courteously invited to dine and dance at the manor of the mysterious Duke of Thayreland, Endymion Thayre. Nobody knew much about him except that he had just come back from abroad, apparently amassing a fortune to add to the already vast amount of riches which had come to him with the estates and title.
Every-one wondered what had prompted this mysterious invitation. The Duke was not known for his forbearance on entertaining. Indeed, no-one could recall ever having been inside the manor, for a visit or a dinner.
It did warrant a thought or two but only that as everybody was soon distracted by the news that Lady Fiona Sinter had left her husband for the Earl of Greenterra. Oh the scandal! And her with two little ones!
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Endymion Thayre.
Serenity felt something awaken inside her. This name. It had such a peculiar effect on her that she could not begin to describe it. Of course she had heard talk of the Duke of Thayreland, of how not many people knew him, of how, generation after generation, the one son of the previous Duke would spend his days abroad, in foreign countries. Each of the Thayre men seemed to be the same, always wandering, wandering... never settling down in one place, never making anywhere a permanent home. Rumour had it that all the men were looking for something... or some-one. And when they found it, they would never let it go.
Serenity felt a curious thrill jump down her spine at the thought. She squashed it firmly. The Thayre men were not looking for something... or some-one. Surely generation after generation of them could not be searching for the same thing... or the same person. It wasn't possible. But, she admitted to herself, that to her, all this did seem quite li-
" M'lady. Lord Grayson has arrived."
Serenity jumped slightly as her housekeeper's voice intruded in on her thoughts. She turned to frown at the matronly woman standing beside her elbow. " Lord Grayson?"
Mrs Henley nodded, " Aye. I put him in the sitting room. He awaits you there."
Serenity sighed in annoyance and decided that she would have to deal with the man and tell him firmly that there was nothing for them in the future. It was getting out of hand. This was the third time he had called, uninvited. The first two times she had politely entertained him, thinking that perhaps he was amusing himself before he had to go off and rejoin his regiment. But this again. It had to stop.
She swept down the stairs of her rented townhouse and turned towards the sitting room. He stood there, with his back to the door, looking out of the window with his hands clasped behind his back in a pose clearly attempted to be sombre.
" Lord Grayson. Indeed this is a surprise. I had not expected you here and I must say that-"
He turned around and walked towards her, smiling at her politely. " I realise that I should not have come here uninvited-"
' And where was that realisation the last two times you came here uninvited?' Serenity slotted in mentally.
"- but I have something of importance to say to you and I felt that now was the time."
Serenity got a bad feeling in the pit of stomach as she watched Lord Grayson run a hand over his pocket nervously. She didn't like this, she really didn't-
" Will you do me the great honour of accepting the hand I offer you in holy matrimony and thus, agree to be my wife?"
" Oh... well. How interesting. Um..."
She urged herself to say yes and agree to the wholly unwanted but surprisingly expected proposal. But her lips, her tongue would not form the word.
Grayson stepped closer to her and took her limp hand in both of his. " I would be a good husband to you and you will lack in nothing. Ours will be a good match my dear. What do you say?"
Serenity looked at the suitor before her. He really was quite handsome. With his guileless blue eyes and his artfully ruffled blonde hair, he represented the image of a charming, young man who really was unaware of the basic problems of the world. He didn't know about the poverty that lurked in the shadows of every city, every country. He wasn't likely to know about, much less care about any of the problems that less fortunate people suffered from. All in all, he was a rich man who had had everything handed to him on a silver platter.
As for them being a good match, well, that was total rubbish really. They were so different. They would never suit. Looking at his open, honest face, Serenity knew. She might be younger than him in years but she was centuries older than him in experience with the troubles of the world. He had never gone to sleep hungry, starving, listening to the despairing sobs of his mother in the next room as she prayed hopelessly for tomorrow to bring an opportunity her way that would put food in her child's mouth. He didn't know what it was like to watch their last pennies trickle away, used for rent, while his mother lay ill in bed, fighting desperately for every wheezing breath she tried to draw into her wasted body. He didn't know. And he wouldn't understand if she told him. He knew nothing about her past and if he did, he'd high-tail it out of here so fast that the ground would be marked with a deep path.
She needed a rich husband and he was ideal. But she couldn't go through with agreeing to a lifelong commitment to him. It wouldn't be fair to him and as for her... well, her choices were gushing away so fast that they were almost non-existent, but she couldn't forget what her poor mother had drilled into her. That love was everything. And if there was love in life, then a person could face anything.
' But there isn't any love in your life. Marry him and you'll be safe... and alive. And if you're alive, then you could learn to love your husband,' a hushed whisper spoke in her mind and she chewed her lips in an unladylike way as she thought about her dilemma. She did have love in her life. Mrs Henley loved her. ' I think mother meant the love of a man? Mrs Henley, however much of a darling she might be, isn't a man.'
So, Serenity thought, she would say yes. She would marry this man and all her troubles would be over. Opening her mouth to give a positive reply to the proposal, she gripped his hands tighter in her own and said... "No."
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Serenity winced a little as Mrs Henley pulled her hair a little tighter to try and twist it into the style she wanted. She watched herself in the mirror and reflected on the fact that she looked passably attractive in the deep blue coloured dress she was wearing. The style was a little outdated, with its full, flowing sleeves, and several skirts all piled on top of each other. She would have worn something else except that she didn't have any more dresses that she hadn't worn out in public. And it wouldn't do to give society even a hint of the desperate situation she was in. Of course there really was no point now. This was going to be her last outing in society and so, what were the chances of her meeting a rich man this night, and of her falling in love with him on first sight and he with her? Slim. Very slim. Especially since he would have to propose this same night. None. The chances were none.
Serenity sighed wearily. She just felt so tired. So tired of it all. Of life. Her life.
" Now now, Miss Serene. Live up to your name huh? Forget all your troubles. Just for tonight. And tomorrow you can start worrying again. But remember little miss. The good Lord listens to all those who believe in him. You must keep your trust in him strong and I have no doubt that everything will be alright in the end."
She stood up and turned so that she faced Mrs Henley. Smiling a little, she nodded. " Let us hope you are right."
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Serenity gazed outside the window of her small carriage as it slowed and joined the line of others already waiting. A strange sensation was prickling at the nape of her neck and she rubbed her forehead as it grew noticeably damp. Her heart was thumping so wildly that she feared it would expire from exhaustion. Her legs felt shaky and her entire body trembled slightly as the dark, forbidding face of the manor came into view. Her stomach felt hollowed out and she tried to swallow to ease the dryness of her throat. What was happening to her? Perhaps she was coming down with something but that was so unlikely. She was as fit as a fiddle, something Mrs Henley told her to thank the Good Lord for everyday. Surely her thanks had been received? For now was not the time for her to wallow in sickness.
She leaned back against the padded seat and closed her eyes, her reticule clenched tightly in her hands. Maybe she shouldn't have accepted this invitation but it wasn't everyday that one received an invitation from a Duke! Well, she didn't at any rate. And even if he hadn't been a Duke, she knew that she would have gone. As soon as she had received the invitation, a curious feeling had settled over her. She had just known that she wanted to meet this man. She didn't know why but she did. She had wanted to look at his face and see what he looked like. It was unexplainable.
Her eyes swept open as the carriage swept through the open, imposing gates. She exhaled sharply and frowned in bewilderment as she felt a sense of peace fill her. Where had the tension gone? Where? How?
Serenity sat up straight as her carriage approached the main doors of the manor. Light shone out from the many windows in the front of the house and the area was as bright as it would have been in the daylight. She stared, mesmerised by the dancing flames of the large, thick candles which sat, perched in the middle of all the windowsills. There was yellow and orange and red... so interesting...
She snapped out of it as her carriage door opened and a footman in a black and blue coloured livery bowed slightly to her and held out his hand to assist her in climbing down. He must be in the Duke's employ.
Serenity mentally shook off all the disturbing thoughts and feelings she'd been having as she carefully stepped down from the carriage. She vowed that she would enjoy this evening if it was the last thing she did. The irony of the fact that it probably would be the last thing she did didn't escape her but she firmly pushed the thought to the back of her mind. She smiled graciously at the footman but he kept his face impassive and stared blankly over her head.
Serenity turned and made her way towards the open doors. Her heart was beating faster than it had ever before and now, a great pressure was filling her entire body, making her feel as if she would soon burst. She stepped over the threshold and stopping, looked around the entrance hall. She jumped slightly as a quite slam sounded behind her and she knew that the door had closed behind her, locking her in this house, forever imprisoning her here, where she would have nowhere to run, no place to hide... her breathing was raggedy and loud in the hall and she desperately tried to get herself under control. She had nearly succeeded but that was before her eyes met those which were blue. The blue of a deep sea raging in a tumultuous storm. The blue of a midnight sky. The blue of the likes she had never seen before... except ... in her dreams.
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Two long strands of fate reached out and clasped each other strongly in jealous possession. The bonded veins, twisted, curled, coiled together in ravenous hunger as they disappeared into the murky depths of destiny. For there were two paths that were available to them. And their own actions would serve to determine which route would be chosen.
**********
Rosegalaxia
rosegalaxia@yahoo.com
**********
INTERLACED SOULS
Chapter 2
Rosegalaxia
**********
Lady Serenity Whittington smiled winningly at the young gentleman- Lord Frederick Grayson or some such name- who warily approached her, his young face filled with nervous anticipation. They had met previously before, several times but he was not the type of gentleman who interested Serenity. Though since the men whom she preferred were keeping as far away from her possible, she would have to make do.
Honestly though. She had thought that the delicate and fragile nature of a woman appealed to men. That was certainly not so in her case. You would think that she carried a fatal disease and not the burden of being an orphan, without any guardians or relatives left in the world. Also, without any particular fortune, as rumour, most truthfully, had it.
" May I have the pleasure of this dance m'lady?"
" Oh, but the pleasure is all mine." She graciously accepted his request and amused, watched the man's face clear of all uncertainty and fill, instead, with smug triumph at her reply.
Men were really so predictable, she thought, as he swept her off into the graceful movements of the dance. No doubt he would go back to his friends, puffed up with pride and tell them of how he had known that he would be accepted, of how he was more of a man than any of them since he had won a dance with her. Really. She might look tolerantly on their antics if she was in a more favourable mood but honestly. No-one could fault her for her behaviour considering... considering the circumstances she was trapped in.
Forcing her mind away from the depressing thought which plagued her wherever she went, whatever she did, she spun around, her curled silver hair flying around with her movements, and laughed at something Lord Grayson said. Her eyes, the colour of clear water when the sun's rays reflected on the surface, twinkled in the merriment she displayed for the world to see. No-one need know that her spirit was wilting inside her, slowly, painfully, day by agonising day as the day she would have to make the choices she did not want to make, loomed closer. Choices which were really no choices at all.
A shiver coursed through her as she thought of the repercussions she would have to face after her decision. The consequences she was having to face at the moment. Again, brushing off the wholly unwanted train of thought, she gazed at Lord Grayson and willed her mind to loose itself into the petty fun and laughter of the ball. It would not do for her to fall into the black void part of her mind was already in. This Season was her last chance. If she did not find a husband- a rich husband- she would have to sell her soul to the very devil.
Rising from the traditional curtsy which followed the end of the dance, she stiffened almost imperceptibly as she felt the brush of cold fingers against her spine. Goosebumps arose on her skin and she abruptly spun around to look behind her, to see who had dared touch her. But no-one was immediately behind her. No-one near enough to her to have taken the liberty. Then what was it she had felt? Her eyes darted around the hall but nothing looked suspicious. No women slyly hiding their faces behind their elaborately decorated fans. No men watching her with conceited eyes, lifting their glasses of alcohol to her in a mocking salute. Just... her imagination? It had to be. Nothing else.
Shaking her head slightly in uneasy bemusement, she turned around again to face Lord Grayson who was regarding her with puzzled and concerned eyes. She smiled at him to dispel any doubts he might have on her saneness.
" May I request your hand for the next dance as well m'lady?"
Serenity smiled again, this time in polite refusal. " I am afraid that I am feeling quite drained and may sit out this dance."
He remained standing before her stubbornly. " Perhaps later?"
She nodded uncommittedly. " Perhaps."
" Until then, maybe a walk in the gardens would soothe your mind? I would be delighted to accompany you."
Without waiting for a reply, he placed her hand on his arm and swept with her towards the open doors. Serenity's face had tightened in annoyance at Lord Grayson's high-handedness but as she felt the cool night air wash over her heated face, she let him lead her out. She did need the fresh air for ever since that incident where her mind had started imagining things- just imagining- she had felt quite... not herself. It felt as if intent eyes had been staring at her unblinkingly, willing her to seek them out and challenge the owner to the right of viewing her with the unwavering gaze she was being subjected to. The stress of the past few months must be catching up to her.
--------------------------------------------------
His eyes slit in anger as she and that man disappeared from view. How dare she go to the gardens with another man? Did she not realise the conclusion people would come to? As for that milking-fop, Lord Frederick Grayson, what could she be thinking of? He was nothing but a boy, intent on claiming her for his own.
Enough was enough.
He had watched her for the past fortnight, dancing with other men, letting them lay their filthy hands on her luscious flesh, not giving a thought to whom she belonged to, to the only man who was allowed to touch her. Of course she did not know who he was, physically, but their souls called out to each other. She should be aware of him except that her preoccupation with other men was blinding her.
It must stop. He must take matters into his own hands. She would come to him, surrender to him, love him... free him.
--------------------------------------------------
The next morning, Lady Serenity Whittington and a dozen other highly acclaimed members of the ton were courteously invited to dine and dance at the manor of the mysterious Duke of Thayreland, Endymion Thayre. Nobody knew much about him except that he had just come back from abroad, apparently amassing a fortune to add to the already vast amount of riches which had come to him with the estates and title.
Every-one wondered what had prompted this mysterious invitation. The Duke was not known for his forbearance on entertaining. Indeed, no-one could recall ever having been inside the manor, for a visit or a dinner.
It did warrant a thought or two but only that as everybody was soon distracted by the news that Lady Fiona Sinter had left her husband for the Earl of Greenterra. Oh the scandal! And her with two little ones!
--------------------------------------------------
Endymion Thayre.
Serenity felt something awaken inside her. This name. It had such a peculiar effect on her that she could not begin to describe it. Of course she had heard talk of the Duke of Thayreland, of how not many people knew him, of how, generation after generation, the one son of the previous Duke would spend his days abroad, in foreign countries. Each of the Thayre men seemed to be the same, always wandering, wandering... never settling down in one place, never making anywhere a permanent home. Rumour had it that all the men were looking for something... or some-one. And when they found it, they would never let it go.
Serenity felt a curious thrill jump down her spine at the thought. She squashed it firmly. The Thayre men were not looking for something... or some-one. Surely generation after generation of them could not be searching for the same thing... or the same person. It wasn't possible. But, she admitted to herself, that to her, all this did seem quite li-
" M'lady. Lord Grayson has arrived."
Serenity jumped slightly as her housekeeper's voice intruded in on her thoughts. She turned to frown at the matronly woman standing beside her elbow. " Lord Grayson?"
Mrs Henley nodded, " Aye. I put him in the sitting room. He awaits you there."
Serenity sighed in annoyance and decided that she would have to deal with the man and tell him firmly that there was nothing for them in the future. It was getting out of hand. This was the third time he had called, uninvited. The first two times she had politely entertained him, thinking that perhaps he was amusing himself before he had to go off and rejoin his regiment. But this again. It had to stop.
She swept down the stairs of her rented townhouse and turned towards the sitting room. He stood there, with his back to the door, looking out of the window with his hands clasped behind his back in a pose clearly attempted to be sombre.
" Lord Grayson. Indeed this is a surprise. I had not expected you here and I must say that-"
He turned around and walked towards her, smiling at her politely. " I realise that I should not have come here uninvited-"
' And where was that realisation the last two times you came here uninvited?' Serenity slotted in mentally.
"- but I have something of importance to say to you and I felt that now was the time."
Serenity got a bad feeling in the pit of stomach as she watched Lord Grayson run a hand over his pocket nervously. She didn't like this, she really didn't-
" Will you do me the great honour of accepting the hand I offer you in holy matrimony and thus, agree to be my wife?"
" Oh... well. How interesting. Um..."
She urged herself to say yes and agree to the wholly unwanted but surprisingly expected proposal. But her lips, her tongue would not form the word.
Grayson stepped closer to her and took her limp hand in both of his. " I would be a good husband to you and you will lack in nothing. Ours will be a good match my dear. What do you say?"
Serenity looked at the suitor before her. He really was quite handsome. With his guileless blue eyes and his artfully ruffled blonde hair, he represented the image of a charming, young man who really was unaware of the basic problems of the world. He didn't know about the poverty that lurked in the shadows of every city, every country. He wasn't likely to know about, much less care about any of the problems that less fortunate people suffered from. All in all, he was a rich man who had had everything handed to him on a silver platter.
As for them being a good match, well, that was total rubbish really. They were so different. They would never suit. Looking at his open, honest face, Serenity knew. She might be younger than him in years but she was centuries older than him in experience with the troubles of the world. He had never gone to sleep hungry, starving, listening to the despairing sobs of his mother in the next room as she prayed hopelessly for tomorrow to bring an opportunity her way that would put food in her child's mouth. He didn't know what it was like to watch their last pennies trickle away, used for rent, while his mother lay ill in bed, fighting desperately for every wheezing breath she tried to draw into her wasted body. He didn't know. And he wouldn't understand if she told him. He knew nothing about her past and if he did, he'd high-tail it out of here so fast that the ground would be marked with a deep path.
She needed a rich husband and he was ideal. But she couldn't go through with agreeing to a lifelong commitment to him. It wouldn't be fair to him and as for her... well, her choices were gushing away so fast that they were almost non-existent, but she couldn't forget what her poor mother had drilled into her. That love was everything. And if there was love in life, then a person could face anything.
' But there isn't any love in your life. Marry him and you'll be safe... and alive. And if you're alive, then you could learn to love your husband,' a hushed whisper spoke in her mind and she chewed her lips in an unladylike way as she thought about her dilemma. She did have love in her life. Mrs Henley loved her. ' I think mother meant the love of a man? Mrs Henley, however much of a darling she might be, isn't a man.'
So, Serenity thought, she would say yes. She would marry this man and all her troubles would be over. Opening her mouth to give a positive reply to the proposal, she gripped his hands tighter in her own and said... "No."
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Serenity winced a little as Mrs Henley pulled her hair a little tighter to try and twist it into the style she wanted. She watched herself in the mirror and reflected on the fact that she looked passably attractive in the deep blue coloured dress she was wearing. The style was a little outdated, with its full, flowing sleeves, and several skirts all piled on top of each other. She would have worn something else except that she didn't have any more dresses that she hadn't worn out in public. And it wouldn't do to give society even a hint of the desperate situation she was in. Of course there really was no point now. This was going to be her last outing in society and so, what were the chances of her meeting a rich man this night, and of her falling in love with him on first sight and he with her? Slim. Very slim. Especially since he would have to propose this same night. None. The chances were none.
Serenity sighed wearily. She just felt so tired. So tired of it all. Of life. Her life.
" Now now, Miss Serene. Live up to your name huh? Forget all your troubles. Just for tonight. And tomorrow you can start worrying again. But remember little miss. The good Lord listens to all those who believe in him. You must keep your trust in him strong and I have no doubt that everything will be alright in the end."
She stood up and turned so that she faced Mrs Henley. Smiling a little, she nodded. " Let us hope you are right."
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Serenity gazed outside the window of her small carriage as it slowed and joined the line of others already waiting. A strange sensation was prickling at the nape of her neck and she rubbed her forehead as it grew noticeably damp. Her heart was thumping so wildly that she feared it would expire from exhaustion. Her legs felt shaky and her entire body trembled slightly as the dark, forbidding face of the manor came into view. Her stomach felt hollowed out and she tried to swallow to ease the dryness of her throat. What was happening to her? Perhaps she was coming down with something but that was so unlikely. She was as fit as a fiddle, something Mrs Henley told her to thank the Good Lord for everyday. Surely her thanks had been received? For now was not the time for her to wallow in sickness.
She leaned back against the padded seat and closed her eyes, her reticule clenched tightly in her hands. Maybe she shouldn't have accepted this invitation but it wasn't everyday that one received an invitation from a Duke! Well, she didn't at any rate. And even if he hadn't been a Duke, she knew that she would have gone. As soon as she had received the invitation, a curious feeling had settled over her. She had just known that she wanted to meet this man. She didn't know why but she did. She had wanted to look at his face and see what he looked like. It was unexplainable.
Her eyes swept open as the carriage swept through the open, imposing gates. She exhaled sharply and frowned in bewilderment as she felt a sense of peace fill her. Where had the tension gone? Where? How?
Serenity sat up straight as her carriage approached the main doors of the manor. Light shone out from the many windows in the front of the house and the area was as bright as it would have been in the daylight. She stared, mesmerised by the dancing flames of the large, thick candles which sat, perched in the middle of all the windowsills. There was yellow and orange and red... so interesting...
She snapped out of it as her carriage door opened and a footman in a black and blue coloured livery bowed slightly to her and held out his hand to assist her in climbing down. He must be in the Duke's employ.
Serenity mentally shook off all the disturbing thoughts and feelings she'd been having as she carefully stepped down from the carriage. She vowed that she would enjoy this evening if it was the last thing she did. The irony of the fact that it probably would be the last thing she did didn't escape her but she firmly pushed the thought to the back of her mind. She smiled graciously at the footman but he kept his face impassive and stared blankly over her head.
Serenity turned and made her way towards the open doors. Her heart was beating faster than it had ever before and now, a great pressure was filling her entire body, making her feel as if she would soon burst. She stepped over the threshold and stopping, looked around the entrance hall. She jumped slightly as a quite slam sounded behind her and she knew that the door had closed behind her, locking her in this house, forever imprisoning her here, where she would have nowhere to run, no place to hide... her breathing was raggedy and loud in the hall and she desperately tried to get herself under control. She had nearly succeeded but that was before her eyes met those which were blue. The blue of a deep sea raging in a tumultuous storm. The blue of a midnight sky. The blue of the likes she had never seen before... except ... in her dreams.
--------------------------------------------------
Two long strands of fate reached out and clasped each other strongly in jealous possession. The bonded veins, twisted, curled, coiled together in ravenous hunger as they disappeared into the murky depths of destiny. For there were two paths that were available to them. And their own actions would serve to determine which route would be chosen.
**********
Rosegalaxia
rosegalaxia@yahoo.com