A/N:
Re-read some of my work and I react on how I tend to edit like 4 times before posting, resulting in me having typos of a missing word or wrong letter here and there. Hope you can forgive me for that and still enjoy the stories without getting upset. I sincerely apologize!
Regardless, I will continue to write on this fanfic. I've just been busy reading stories myself - for a longer period of time than I tend to. Ready for some writing now though. Hope you'll like this short piece. And thank you tremendously for your support! It means the world to me.
Married
Chapter IV
My Love, My Life
Located among aristocratic households, even a large garden as the one for the Teague's cannot refrain Angelica from achieving a feeling of imprisonment. Metallic high fences and perfectly cut hedges form a practical square around the symmetric villa in the middle, stone columns holding up a frame for the double-front door of glass.
As servants, maids and whatever that can be for assistance introduce the couple - Jack is the one slipping a comment every now and then. Remaining silent for the major part, he does. But not like Angelica who fragilely strolls, touches any silky curtain with the most sincere brush. Quick to send the nursemaid with Frances to the princess's bedroom, she hardly reckoned what emotions she felt the slightest.
Overwhelmed.
Perhaps.
In not the best manner. Much for impressions and so many people for introductions. A second hand a bit everywhere. For a so-called couple that must be on their guard to pretend, act upon a false commitment, she understands the grander challenge she heads for. People will occupy every corner of the house, with a bit of over exaggeration. Every hour of every day. A bedroom, her bedroom, appears to be her soul place for privacy. Even this one will not be completely, as Jack soon flees inside, also getting enough of sociality.
With hands resting on the closed double-doors, Angelica must softly clear her throat to announce her presence. When he looks over his shoulder, he freezes for about a moment before turning around. Watching.
Angelica stands, hands beforehand resting comfortably on her hips but now slightly tensed. Maids behind her help her undo the corset. The whole setup earns a judging eye from Angelica, not taking a like of Jack viewing her like this.
But oh my…
"Apologies," he excuses himself and is about to leave.
Now this causes everything to explode in Angelica, but she finds herself in a deadend. In a mirror she clearly reflects the glances exchanged between the two maids fondling the knots of her corset. With a knowledge of what it is about; Jack as a husband excusing himself - Angelica decides to act.
"No, cariño, stay."
Astonishment must have shone through or else Angelica would have not feverishly brought up her hand to point at the ring, mouthing something in irritation that Jack obviously should have been able to interpret. All he understands is a reminder of them appearing in love, happy and comfortable around one another. Not like a tense insecure boy he never really had been.
"Thank you, ehm..," Jack clears his throat but instead nods for the maids to leave. "I can assist my wife."
They excuse themselves and leave, share a curtsy and Angelica wears a genuine closed smile. With their departure it however disappears as if someone snapped one's fingers. She feels very exposed and jumps for a nearby pillow to locate in front of her.
"Turn around!"
With hands up in surrender, Jack slowly spins around but meets her gaze in the mirror.
"And close your eyes!" she warns.
He obeys and listens to the sound of her working on her attire. Effort is high in fighting away the mental picture this brings him. But with her frustrating breathing, he knows she does not make it out of it.
"Need help, luv?"
"No..," stubbornness speaks. "I can… handle it." And with a swallowed groan, she announces. "Fine! Ayúdame."
He meets her defeated yet watchful eye and notices her arm yanked to her back. Most gently he moves to her back and tries his best to untangle her wrist from the many ribbons holding the corset together. It earns a chuckle from him.
"Glad I be no attained to wear one of these."
It earns a chuckle from Angelica. It feels stupid to admit, and Jack decides to not even admit it for himself. But meeting her genuine smile in the mirror causes him to for a tiny moment awaken a part of him that was active back in Seville. When he was mature to love.
But he is fast to regain his senses, clench his jaw and grow back in person. That young version of him was long gone and he has other focuses nowadays. Such as building his titles. Creating a legend of himself. Ending up in a love story is not simply his tale.
So he carefully removes her wrist, finally untangled and leaves her without a word. He even leaves the room and is very sure of her wondering thoughts directed to him. Trying to analytically getting a grip of his behavior. But he does not want her to figure him out. Not this time. They have been too much of back and forth and his call for the now is different. There is no room for Angelica.
Not that she seems to want to enter that room anyhow, aye? What was the meaning of this… Arma-Amo-Armando? Who is he? As long as Jack is concerned, she must have moved on with her path in life just as much as he has.
There is a butler walking down the hall towards him, carrying a tray with a glass of water. It is handed for Jack and he is sure the butler even speaks to him, gently offering him the glass but he does not comprehend. Rum? Is there rum?
He must have asked, because the butler softly shouts, due the hour of the day, something towards the stair - and it takes a mere two before a servant is there with a crystal bottle Jack dares to guess is rum. He smiles apologetically and grabs it in his rushing steps downstairs. He pauses his steps midway when for the first time really noticing the grand painting on the wall.
It is a wedding painting.
Him standing proud-stomached beside Angelica who is in a wedding dress. Now that is a true lie. This occasion has certainly never occurred. Obviously a work ordered by Hans. He truly thought of everything. Every detail.
And by taking a few more steps, Jack takes a note of another smaller painting hanging on another wall. Frances. Frances in Angelica's lap and Jack proudly standing beside the ladies. Another event that never had happened.
He chooses the bottle of rum for more before retrieving upstairs. Surely his wife...
Ehm.
Surely Angelica, would be done by now.
And she is.
He silently walks inside the room and finds her 'sleeping' on her side of the bed. Not that she has a side. She has never had a side of the bed. She never even had it when they were together. Because they were never together anyhow. And never like they before had lived as if wedded.
No they had not.
Jack tries to shake his head, forcing memories back down and refusing for any recognition to pop up. He wants them away.
Stubbornly, he snatches the empty pillow she kindly has left for him and kicks of his shoes as he lays down on the floor. Also pulling a coat he has hung on a chair nearby to tighten around him as cover. Well, floor is not the most uncomfortable he has slept on. He can reveal that much. And he is just about to close his eyes when…
My dear mother of..?!
How is it possible for such a tiny piece of literally dough to pierce his ears like this?!
His eyes pop open and chest breathes heavily.
"Angelica!"
She sits up, equally irritated. She motions to the door. "You go!"
"You're the bloody mother."
"Oh, you're pulling that card," she accuses and angrily throws her covers off her body, muttering Spanish curses under her breath that Jack dares to guess would make a priest throw her out of all religion for eternity.
So, this is how life would have looked like if he so long ago chose this path? But what is worse? Willingly choosing it and afterwards feeling pity for the choice? Or like him, not choosing it yet ending up on the very same path anyhow?
He sighs and lays back down, swallowing his irritation.
Well. Whether he likes it or not; he certainly is on that path.