To start off; English is not my mother tongue, and I don't even have it as a subject anymore (not by choice). Furthermore, I've had writer's block for over a year after my teacher – who happens to be an acclaimed author – told me my stories are too complicated and unoriginal. This is also my first work of fanfiction. I'm also a pessimist. Not to mention I haven't read Pride and Prejudice since September last year.
Oh well... here goes nothing.
I'm picturing that this story is taking place in a medieval period/fantasy world since I don't know enough about USA/England to make a modern version. Any holes in my knowledge can thus be covered by "magic", "spells" and other vague stuff.
Chapter one: Persuasion
Wiser people than me have said that if a man is blessed with a good name and fortune, it is only a matter of time before his sisters convince him that nothing could make the happiness more complete than them having a sister-in-law. And be there no suitable ladies in the immediate area, they will soon talk him into thinking a change of air would do a world of good.
D'Arlain had hoped to get some peace when he came back to his castle in Greymoor. Even a week at court, attending formal dinners where one fork looked much like the other but which difference was enough for a scandal, exhausted his patience.
It would not have been so bad if he'd been allowed to keep to himself, to take walks with Genivere and ignore people whose only interest was to find out exactly how big a fortune he had. But no, one was expected to be shallow and merry, and to make matters even worse there had been those bloody alchemists who thought an invitation to court meant a recognition of their geniality!
He frowned. They seriously thought that stars were made of rocks and that commoners could wield the gift of magic. They'd even tried to convince him that science could turn lead into gold and ruined his best cloak in an attempt to prove it. Fools. They meddled in things they could not understand. One could not reason oneself to be of the Blood when the only way to get there was to be born to it.
As soon as courtesy allowed it he'd excused himself, blaming his quick departure on matters vague enough to satisfy everyone's imagination. He did not care whether they thought he was going off to fight barbarians or home to a mistress. It would be good with a little breathing space at last.
His hopes fell as he rode through the gates and was met by the Duke of Cairleth and his sister, Lady Melricha, both prepared to get into a carriage. Not that the sight of his friends was not welcome – well, he thought glumly, Rowan's at least – but all he wanted at that moment was a glass of wine and someplace quiet.
"The Ladies' forbid, lord D'Arlain!" cried Rowan's sister in a shrill and excited voice that made him wince. "How lucky you should catch us before we left! Now, do not tell me you have forgotten all about the trip!"
Must she always speak in exclamation marks? He halted the horse and gave a light and gracious bow from the saddle. "I cannot recall any... trip, my lady."
"Oh, lord d'Arlain, do not tease me!" she giggled.
"Ben!" said Rowan warmly; he and d'Arlain was on first names after years of studying together. "How good it is to see you. How was our friends at court?"
"Enjoying themselves silly, as always," replied d'Arlain and dismounted.
"Was His Majesty and children well? I do hope – "
"Oh, Rowan, get to the point!" Melricha smacked her brother on the arm with her fan. "Look at the sun! There is only so much daylight left to travel on."
"Pray, do not let me detain you."
She widened her eyes in a manner he found most unflattering; such small, squinting eyes, with painted lashes and a dull color between gray and brown. She was comely enough, he supposed, but compared to the women he admired she was a candle compared to sunsets. "- with us!"
"I beg your pardon?"
"What my sister meant to say," said Rowan, as unaware as his sister that d'Arlain's thoughts had been occupied elsewhere, "that we'd love to have you with us to Lindfield. I am sure I told you a couple of weeks ago that we wanted to inspect our lands there, and perhaps get some fresh air away from the city." He smiled, and his face was as open and friendly as his sister's was calculating.
"Do you intend to stay there for long?" d'Arlain asked distantly. Perhaps a swim in the lake first, he thought. Then he would ask the servants to fetch him some clean clothes, and one of the finest bottles of the house and leave him.
"Oh, until the end of the month at least. I hear they have very interesting customs in connection with the May Festival and I would dearly like to see them."
" – quite the lower class, but we might make interesting acquaint – !"
Finally the words made sense in d'Arlain's mind. "Lindfield?" The horse moved nervously and he changed his tone. "Lindfield. Why on earth do you want to go there, Rowan? It is just a village with nothing but farmers and fishers and ducks that goes a-quacking in the streets. There is no need to inspect the place – I know a man that would be willing to buy it off your hands for a reasonable sum."
"You have seen the place, then?"
"Seen it?" scoffed d'Arlain. "I went riding through there two years ago and my horse was wading in mud. I even saw the house you inherited – if it can be called a house. It has been neglected by the servants, the roof is leaking, the doors are creaking and it does not even have a portrait gallery."
"Ben, I cannot believe it is that bad. Why do you not come with us and show us the way? The place is not even so uncivilized as you make it to be; why, there are two or three noble families that has moved to the countryside – "
"The rent is too high in the crown city."
" – and I see no reason to think they are not fine people – "
"I have no wish – "
Lady Melricha Cairleth was not a woman to be snubbed. "Lord d'Arlain!" she said in her most demanding tone. "We have traveled all the way from Cairleth Castle, endured your roads which made the ride extremely uncomfortable, waited for you without knowing when you would arrive, and then you have the nerve to disappoint us this way! My Lord, this is not the behavior I expect from you!" He struggled to keep his face unreadable as she waved her fan, trying to be coquettish. "Of course," she added as an afterthought. "You must be tired after your own trip. How unforgivable of me. We will of course stay and entertain you if you are too weak to come with us – I do not have the heart to leave you! Is that not so, Rowan? We must think about lord d'Arlains health! To travel miles to celebrate the May Festival when we might as well do it here! Greymoor Park is an excellent option; and I have always thought it is a shame that such a huge property should never invite to any huge parties! Why, now that I – "
She drew her breath and Rowan quickly broke in, "His health is unquestionably robust, dear sister – almost insolently so compared to most of the nobilities. I am sure he would not mind to keep us company while we visit Lindfield."
It was amazing, d'Arlain thought, how persuading Melricha could be when it was not her intention. It was a natural talent of hers. He sighed. "You know I cannot refuse."
The fine black carriage accompanied by a, as far as the people of Lindfield could see, very able rider was bound to cause talk. Their arrival at Elwood Mansion had startled the maids, who'd never thought the weekly washing of the windows would ever receive any praise. As soon as they had curtsied and said "Yes, m'lord" and "To be sure, m'lady" and "We are honored, Your Grace," they ran into town and started using their tongues for gossiping. Oh, the duke was very handsome, and had been so kind when he asked them about the house; they seemed to be prepared for a longer stay – the lady was comely and her gowns must surely be the most beautiful in the kingdom, they had to be very careful when handling them so that they did not rip off any pearls. Of the duke's friend, they did not know much; he'd withdrawn into his room and asked for nothing but a mug of water, soap, and redberry wine.
"Julienne! How much did this goose cost?" Madam Bregan was sitting in the small kitchen and counting gold and silver coins, frowning as if to dare them to run away.
"Three silver marks, mother." said answered her daughter without looking up from the gown she was sewing on.
"You should have haggled it down further," scorned madam Bregan. "That Darin man can very well afford it. You know his Ruana married the Earl of Helleton? I would not even call her pretty."
Aletha, busy picking feathers of the overpriced goose, shook her head at her mother's displeasure, and smiled. "Julienne would feel bad if she had to push the price lower than it already is."
"Low! If I had not been so weak, I would have walked to Rholith and gotten it no more than one silver mark."
The sisters exchanged a look; Fed Darin had always been kinder to them than most his customers, with them being "such fine ladies, indeed, finer than my little Ruana ever was – be sure to bring my greetings to your honored father – ".
Yes, their father was honorable enough – but what was a good name when the fortune did not match it? After the fifth daughter had been born he'd moved his family to the countryside where life was easier and less expensive. Julienne and Aletha, being sixteen and fifteen then, had soon adjusted to their new home. Lillian had not so readily accepted the change – at least not before she had mulled it over and concluded that "getting closer to nature" was a good thing. The two youngest, however, constantly longed for the carefree life they had led and complained about everything that was different from their former home: the size of the rooms; the ducks, the forest (they should chop down all the trees and make a garden); the villagers; the long walk to church and so on and so forth. Ada could blame a rock for being hard and she always got Erien to agree with her.
"Mother! We must invite the duke to the May Dance!" Julienne sighed as Ada appeared in the dorway and carelessly stepped on the gown as she walked past her.
"That is hardly appropriate," protested Aletha, glancing up. "It's a custom of the village, not our own private ball. If they want to come then they will do so – it will only seem forward and pompous if we invite higher ranked people to a – an event like this."
"Oh, don't be so dull," huffed Ada, her bright blue eyes gleaming. She was probably picturing herself handing the invitation herself to the duke. "How will they know about it if we do not tell them?"
"A very logical point, my dear – "
"And we ought to show that we are friendly and civilized."
"Quite my opinion too – "
"And we are the most suitable people around to represent Lindfield."
"Just so – "
"And he has four castles and has been knighted and is said to be one of the wealthiest in the kingdom!" triumphed Ada.
Her mother's eyes were wide with excitement. "Oh, my."
"Mother!" exclaimed Julienne and Aletha, both's attention diverted from their tasks. The very idea that they should indulge Ada in this was shocking. "You cannot – "
"Do not tell me what I can and cannot." said madam Bregan firmly. "It is clear that some courtesy is due here, and it shall be my pleasure to ask your father to write an invitation. Do not look at me that way, Aletha, do be finished with that goose and follow Julienne's example. I trust you have some nice clothes you can fix for the dance too."
However ashamed she was of Ada's and her mother's behavior, Aletha was determined to attend the dance. After all, she thought dryly, I need to make my connection with them known and no one expects us to converse with the duke and his party. She had spent the day walking around in Lindfield with Julienne, watching people bustling about, decorating their houses, cleaning the street, laughing and talking excitedly as they did so. Everyone seemed to be preparing for the evening dance.
"I look forward to the food," Julienne said, after they'd paid old madam Mari a visit. "Did you see the pies her daughter was baking?"
"No, but I smelled them," Aletha said and grinned. "But Julienne, don't you have any young man you prioritize before the food?"
Her older sister blushed. "I cannot say that I do," she said defensively. Aletha laughed at her expression. "Come on, don't be shy."
But Julienne insisted that there were no young men around that suited her and that she much preferred a blueberry pie to an unsuitable one. Aletha on the other hand – had not Marq, the foresters' son given her a cryptic look when they had passed him on the street? They went on teasing eachother until they'd walked so far that they could see Elwood Mansion, gleaming brightly in the sun.
"Oh, they've painted it!" cried Julienne. "Do you think they will stay here for good?"
"I hope not." replied Aletha. She had her own reasons for hoping so; she loved being in the forest in Lindfield, to escape her mother and her two youngest sisters, but it was the property of whoever owned the mansion. She couldn't believe the duke would approve of a middle-class woman running around on his land, swimming in his river and picking his flowers and herbs. "If they are, mother will start planning yours and the duke's wedding – just you remember that."
The road turned a little farther ahead, bringing them closer to the mansion. Aletha saw something gleaming in the corner of her eye just as it was disappearing behind some trees and she looked back trying to see what it was. A man was standing in the backyard, moving from position to position so gracefully it seemed as if he was dancing. The gleam had come from the sword in his hands; sunlight spilled down the blade as he raised it and whirled it around with ease. She wasn't near enough to make out his face, but she doubted she'd seen him before. There were few in Lindfield who were so tall, and none with hair as black as his. Not to mention his skills at handling a weapon. She was unable to tear her gaze away. Suddenly he stopped, relaxed and looked up – and, it seemed, right at her.
She gave a start, then hurried after Julienne.
"Why did you stop?"
"Oh, I thought I – saw something."
Her sister sighed. "You're too curious."
The dance was taking place on a big field just outside the village, where a huge bonfire had been lit and food had been put on the tables around. Despite Aletha's gloom predictions on the way to it, he was friendly and not the least bit condescending of the people present. He tactfully refrained from mentioning the invitation at all, but paid so much attention to the members of the Bregan family that it left madam Bregan in no doubt that he was grateful for it. He is a fine man, Aletha thought as she watched him talk eagerly with madam Mari, who seemed stunned that a person of such importance should find her interesting. They'd finished eating and some of the men found their instruments and began playing a merry tune. Turm the stableboy raised his pleasant voice and put words to the song.
Ho, bonnie blue bird have ye no' seen
the lassies a-dancing their gowns ever green
I thought ye be pretty but ye told me no
The lassies be bonnier, ho!
Boys came shuffling ahead and mumbled some shy words, and soon most of the girls had been led giggling out to dance. Aletha had withdrawn out of the light from the fire, and stood under some trees watching. Ada and Erien were flirting with every young male in two shoes and her mother was looking at them with something, to Aletha's dismay, very much like approval. Luckily those were decent young men who'd never dream of taking advantage of a girl.
More surprising was that the duke had engaged Julienne. Aletha had not thought he'd go so far as to mingle with the villagers – but obviously that sort of thing wasn't on his mind. His hair, red as a barn stuck on fire, was ruffled by the wind and he smiled as he twirled his partner around with more elegance than any of the others. She even thought he looked reluctant when the song ended and he had to let her go; but then again, why should he not like Julienne? A wreath of blue flowers was crowning her golden hair, and matched the color of her eyes and her beautiful gown. She'd been made Queen of May, but her Green Man was suffering from too much ale and wasn't able to dance without his feet crossing. Currently he was enjoying the attention of Lillian, who was having a jolly good time lecturing about the sins of strong drink.
Everyone in her family seemed to be enjoying himself or herself. Even her father. He'd grumbled about the "stupidity of a May Dance, when spring came surely enough every year whether one jumped about with twigs on one's head or not", but had changed his opinion by the sight of the food.
Aletha let her eyes wander and they again came to rest upon the duke, who had returned back to his party. It seemed as if he was trying to make his sister and lord d'Arlain – she had heard people whisper his name and say, though not a duke he was related to the queen and had her favor – dance the next dance together. She had recognized him right away as the swordman she'd spotted earlier that day. He hadn't given her more than a glance though, so she assumed he'd either forgotten her or that he simply didn't care.
The lord shook his head, and made a dismissive gesture. The lady frowned at her brother, as if she had nothing but contempt for the idea. Not that she seemed to mind lord d'Arlain. She laid her hand on his arm, but he was already retreating; gave her a bow and strode away as if he'd seen something of interest elsewhere.
You have to try harder to get that one, lady, Aletha thought and shook her head. Lord d'Arlain and lady Melricha, who seemed as though they could not wait to get away from the place, far from impressed her.
The duke followed him, and they stopped just within her earshot. " – of you. How extraordinary kind of them to do this and allow us to take part in it! Melricha can to some extent be excused; there are no one here who can bid up a lady of her class but you. You, on the other hand – I see not why you cannot engage one of the beauties that are present tonight. They may not be noble, true, but I have seldom seen such grace and manners for all that they are unpolished by education."
They were close enough for her to marvel at Julienne's luck; the duke was good-looking and his ready smile made his appearance more than pleasant. His tunic was a dark, rich green with golden thread running around the edges. Lord d'Arlain's dark, curlyhair was well groomed and his clothing irreproachable. Both his tunic and his breeches were plain black, but the way it fitted him made her think it must be a lot more expensive than she first would have thought. He turned his head slightly, giving her a noble profile that instantly struck her as unusually handsome.
Aletha turned away, but kept listening under the pretense of making a wreath of the flowers by her feet.
"Your lady for the evening is the only one who possesses a beauty worth noticing." said lord d'Arlain coolly. "Apart from your sister, of course. The others are, in my eyes, plain and unenlightened. I shall be glad when this is over."
There was a pause, where Aletha imagined the duke sighed at his friend's response.
"You are harsh as always. Come; do not let your mind be so dark tonight of all nights. Be there no greater heart in thee? Live a little, comfort a little, cheer thyself a little."
The other made a frustrated sound. "In this we are different, you and I. My mind is not dark, but neither is it carefree as yours. Go to the girl, Rowan – do not let my mood spoil yours. The weeks at court has made me appreciate some time alone, that is all – do not fret."
"More picky too, it seems." The duke clung stubbornly to the subject as only innocents can do. "Why, I am astonished than you can dismiss the females here without taking a proper look at them. Over there the sister of Julienne Bregan – will you not dance with her?"
Aletha froze, then went on with her task as if she'd heard nothing. She scorned herself for listening to others conversations.
"If that is your idea of a beauty..." There was a pause, where he spoke too low for her to hear. "She might be pretty, but all ladies are pretty by firelight. It is not enough to tempt me. No, I'd rather dance with your sister then, if you insist."
The duke almost groaned. "I do not insist! And Melricha has called the carriage; she said she was tired. No, I only say if you were less – " The rest of the words were lost as d'Arlain resumed his walk and was followed by the duke.
Red from indignation, she dropped the flowers. She could not believe what she had just heard – the patronizing tone, and even more, the words he had used – had lowered her opinion of him considerably. Who in the name of the Ladies did he think he was?
"Hey," She blinked, and turned around to face Marq. He hadn't bothered dressing himself up; as always he wore a brown shirt with rough texture and black breeches and stuffed into soft leather boots. "How come you're not dancing?" He tilted his head slightly to one side. "Something the matter?"
She grimaced. "You know I don't like to dance. I came for the food and to make sure Ada does not embarrass the family, and that Erien does not try to surpass her sister in doing so, and that Lillian does not bore anyone to death because she's incapable of taking a hint. I'm going home soon; it's getting late." If she stayed any longer, she might go up to d'Arlain and scold him up one side and down the other about what she thought of him.
"No, you can't," Marq said, and gave a wry smile.
"What?"
"You have to endure dessert and at least one dance afterwards before doing so – else my father would think you're being rude. We spent days chopping trees for that fire and making those tables."
"Afterwards!" she groaned. "How can people fill up their stomach to the point of retching and then volunteer to go and jump up and down?"
He seemed to struggle to keep a straight face. "When there's a dance, people usually don't eat so much."
"But what's the point in all this food, then?"
"In case someone... eats."
She rolled her eyes at him and he finally gave way to laughter. Marq had been her good friend ever since they moved to Lindfield; she enjoyed his company and, being the forester's son, he'd taught her a lot of things about the forest.
"Come," he said when he'd finished laughing. He grabbed her hand and dragged her with him, making his way though the crowd of people. She didn't realize where he was headed before she saw a black head of hair slightly above the others and tried to pull back. But Marq had the build of a boulder and probably didnt even notice and before she could open her mouth in protest they stood before the duke.
His eyes – the color of a summer sky – lit up when he saw them. "Ah, master Aldon. How is it going with your father?"
Marq bowed. "He is quite well, Your Grace. He will have the logs you requested by tomorrow."
"So soon?" exclaimed the duke, smiling. "I thought white oaks grew far up in the mountains. I heard they burn with such a pleasant odor," he said, addressing lord d'Arlain who looked at Marq with skepticism. "Well, give your father my thanks and tell him how grateful I am. Unless he is here tonight? I would very much like to say it to him myself if possible."
"He chose to stay home, Your Grace – he is old and not too fond of dancing."
"And what about yourself? You have a lovely young lady by your arm – why do you not dance?"
Aletha curtsied when he looked at her and looked him boldly in the eye, encouraged by his smile. Marq gave a wistful grin. "I had an accident with an ax when I was little, Your Grace. My right leg is stiff and prevents me from such joys. Miss Bregan, however, has no excuse for not taking a turn – will you not help me convince her, Your Grace?"
"Marq - !"
"No, no." The duke, thrilled by the opportunity, grabbed the arm of his friend, "Miss Bregan, let me present lord d'Arlain – who also shrinks from anything that involves steps and rhythm, unless it is swordplay. But surely he cannot refuse you."
Oh really? Aletha wondered whether the duke really believed his own words after hearing the ones d'Arlain had uttered about her.
Up close, he was even more good-looking. His features were clean and masculine, but they were shamed by the forbidding look in his eyes and the ironic twist of his mouth. He shot a glare at the duke, and even one at Marq, and his reluctance was so obvious it brought her rage back to the surface. Finally, when courtesy gave no room for more delay, he turned to her and bowed. "Will you make me the honor, miss - ?"
The nerve of the man! Could he not even remember her name ten seconds after it was mentioned? She gave a small curtsy and raised her chin. "What honor would it be, for a noble to dance with a commoner? No, my lord, the only one who can do you justice is the lady Melricha and I see she is not here."
They stared at eachother for a moment, unaware of the astonished silence from their friends. Then she whirled around and, feeling her face go red again, mumbled something under her breath and walked away as fast as she could without stumbling in her skirts.
Marq, confused by her behavior, tried to apologize but the duke told him not to worry about it. Women could not be made head or tail of, but one had to admire them all the same. There was no need to excuse anyone – apart from lord d'Arlain, perhaps; to let a whole evening go by without engaging one of the girls! At the end of the sentence he threw a exasperated look at d'Arlain, who seemed to be deep in thoughts.
There he goes again, thought Rowan. Well! I shall go and find miss Julienne, and if he wants to spend May Dance sulking, then it shall be his problem. He went gladly in search of the lovely May Queen and did not spare lord d'Arlain another thought – and even if he did so, he would never have imagined that his friend was thinking about a pair of deep honey brown eyes, staring at him in defiance.