Bella
Bella
Journeying to the party.
I stuffed the coat pocket before slipping it on, wincing as the tweed material scratched my arm. I love this jacket despite its drawbacks because of its length. The bottom of the material ends at my hips exposing my legs and what some of the married women around here call my 'rebellious nature'. Apparently it is a crime to show your knees. But I'd shaved my legs smooth and wore heels with little-to-no height so the usual klutzy me wouldn't make more a scene than I usually did.
Jessica was waiting impatiently for me in the foyer, tapping her white toed shoes from underneath her long yellow gown she was wearing. We smiled at each other's matching tweed jackets that we bought together one sunny morning and wore to every occasion since. Sure enough Lauren wasn't able to lend her the pearl earrings, but in their place were small gold hoops. I felt underdressed in comparison in my navy blue sundress, but I'd rather be casual than dressed for an opera any day. Jess's hair was piled high into an elegant bun whilst I let mine fall freely with the top half pinned back by a flowery pin, so no locks would fall into my eyes.
I took a second to stare down at my toes. My polished black heels were rounded at the front. They were my fanciest shoes and fit perfectly on my narrow feet.
"Stop dallying and hurry up, Isabella. Lauren agreed to have her father drive us to the Mason's in his car, but only if we arrive at the Mallory's on time! Are you really going to make me walk all the way to town in these?" Her right foot protruded from her skirts displaying an already sore foot just from the walk to here.
"Alright, let's go." We linked arms and made a brisk walk all the way to the pale grey house at the end of the street. Once we'd entered the driveway Lauren came bounding down the walk to embrace Jessica.
"Jessica, my friend, welcome! Father's just about ready to pull around the car." Then she turned to me. I looked bashfully away from the town's worst gossip to twirl a lock of my straight brown hair between my thumb and forefinger. She sneered at me. "Ah, Miss Swan. Funny you should get an invite. Come ladies, I hear the engine now."
It was almost as if I had a beast down inside me. But the outer me ignored the insult in the most composed manner. The animal growled and snapped at Lauren's long white dress, even so. At least she retained some normalcy in her outfit. Although in my mind I was tearing it to shreds, I took the minute or so from walking behind her to eye it over. From what I saw in the front of the dress it was a bit revealing, and the back of the dress made her rump too big. But I have a feeling this was the effect she was going for.
Finally, after a grueling hour or so of being crushed in the back of the automobile and against the cold window we exited the doors to the front gates of what apparently was the Mason's mansion.
The three of us walked to the door where I banged the knocker. Just then Lauren spoke up.
"What I wouldn't give to marry into this family. Isn't it fine, Jessica?"
"Very fine," my friend agreed.
I ignored the opening door as I put in my two-bits. "Marrying should be for love, Miss Mallory. Not for property."
"Quite so," A new voice said. I turned surprised to see a finely dressed woman standing at the entryway. "I'm Mrs. Mason," she introduced. "And your names, please?"
"Lauren Mallory." "Jessica Stanley." "Isabella Swan."
"Welcome, welcome. Come in. We're waiting for the others to arrive in the parlor. Bridget is serving tea." I followed last through the house, closing the door behind me, as no one else bothered; it just seemed the decent thing to do. My keen eye saw how casual the lady of the house was clothed. She wore a simple dress like I did, only longer as was expected.
"May I take your coat, miss?" A maid asked me.
"Oh… um, no thank you." I spotted a lovely place on the divan by the French windows. Outside in the yard was the most beautiful garden I may have ever laid my eyes on. An assortment of flowers framed the property: freesias, lilies, tulips, black-eyed-susans, pansys. And to my humor there was a lake in the midst of it under the shadow of a large weeping willow. Below the branches sat a solitary stone bench. I planned on making a visit there today knowing this may be the last time I'd ever get the chance.
The other guests were more preoccupied with the furnishings of the room and the fine china teacups being passed around. Some loitered around the few paintings on the walls. And, I think, some could actually be one of the peoples in the old fashioned portraits.
I saw some girls I remembered from my childhood fully grown in taffeta gowns or long silk dresses. Pearls, diamonds, and other jewels flashed under the light of the electric chandelier. I felt so out of place amongst my comrades. I didn't grow up prepared to go to dances or classy dinners. I wanted to be one of those girls holding onto her beau's arms as they window shopped downtown. I snuck off to see jazz groups perform in the park unbeknownst to my parents, yet I've never been to an opera. My social class in life was clear and it is certainly not here.
"Bridget?" I asked, touching the sleeve of the maid's dress who was pouring tea onto a tray not far from here.
"Tea, Miss…?" She queried.
I smiled warmly on her. "I'm Miss Swan, but please, call me Bella."
"It wouldn't be my place-." She began to protest.
"It's okay." I put one hand tentatively on her arm. "I'll pass on the tea. However, I was wondering if your mistress would mind if I stepped out into the garden…?"
"Oh, of course! Go on ahead. Mrs. Mason would be pleased someone took an interest in her flowers. You know she planted all of them herself? She won't let her husband buy her a gardener either. She likes to tend them, too."
"Thank you, Bridget."
I slipped through the French doors and onto the damp grass. My small heels seeped into the earth. So, first looking back to make sure no one was watching, I removed my shoes and hung them from my hands, relishing in the feel of the mud cooling my skin.
Eventually, due to my slow pace, I sat down on one end of the stone bench while I watched my feet to make sure I didn't trip and soil myself.
"Hello," I quiet husky voice said beside me.
"Ah!" I eeked. Beside me sat an absurdly handsome man. He had pale skin but that complimented his bronze hair that was a bit unkempt on top of his head. Between a few shaggy bangs, brilliant green eyes peered out at me.
"I'm so sorry," I apologized, one hand over my heart. "I didn't realize anyone else was out here. I didn't see… I should leave."
"No, it's alright," he spoke again in that impeccably smooth voice. His hand wrapped around my arm and eased me back down onto the bench. "I could use some company, anyways. I'm kind of hiding from my mother for as long as I can. She wants me to make an appearance at her party. I see you escaped too."
I giggled and blushed in my seat. "I can't believe it. And I thought I got away from this mess."
"I don't follow." His one eyebrow arched in confusion.
"The parlor is a bit claustrophobic, full of ladies all waiting on the Edward Mason, or so it was rumored."
"So, you're a gossiper then?" Did I sense that his voice was disappointed?
"No, no. You've got me all wrong. I don't condone gossiping, but one can't help hear it when one's out and about."
"Then what's the matter?"
I sighed and slumped on the bench. "I don't think I belong here. All those girls sitting luxuriously sipping their teas in elegant dresses, well, I can't do that. I won't. I don't see myself in silk gowns, ever. I like my short dresses, I like dancing to jazz music. This garden is like paradise- an escape from that world inside. And here I find myself sitting next to the source of it all."
His expression was amused. "You like jazz music?"
Did I seriously let all that slip? "That sounded so lewd, didn't it? I shouldn't have brought that up. I'll leave now…"
"Stop trying to leave." He commanded. "I'm sorry you think it's my fault I put you in this awkward situation-."
"I didn't mean it like that!"
"But that's the way you said it," Edward argued back.
My voice sounded as weak as a kitten. "I'm sorry."
"I don't mind. In fact, I agree on most points of your tirade." I blushed at the word: tirade. "I don't like all of that either."
"Pardon?" I choked out. This is unbelievable. Edward Mason, son of the elite Mason family, not liking his rich lifestyle?
"I mean it. It's odd that I'm confiding this to you, a complete stranger. But, living like this is so limited. My parents are pushing me to get married and then follow my uncle's footsteps into medical school."
"That doesn't sound so bad."
"But it is! I have one joy in life: my piano music. And I play classical to jazz. Mother thinks it is scandalous to be a musician."
"I think a musician is a wondrous profession. Don't let your mother be the judge of that." My eyes surely glazed over at this point. "have you ever gone down to the park weekend nights to watch the men play their swing music? Have you ever seen the look of concentration on the drummer's face, and all the people swaying to the beat he makes? Magic seems too hokey of a word to describe it. Yet… that moment when the next song starts up and all the ladies take the hands of their new partners… everything's perfect."
When I looked back to Edward his mind was somewhere else. That I could tell. But he uttered a few words. "I can almost imagine it…"
"Oh, Edward! There you are!" I heard Mrs. Mason call. She was at the edge of the property and approaching swiftly.
Edward noticed and instantly his expression became pained. Then suddenly, a new smile lit his expression for some unknown reason to me. "I forgot to ask your name," he explained.
"Miss Isabella Swan." I informed him.
"Isabella, you may call me Edward." I nodded happily. "What day is today?"
"Friday, Edward," The name was fresh on my tongue.
"I'll make you a deal then. If you allow me to call on you tomorrow evening, I'll help you get out of the party. I want to see the jazz players with you."
"Really?"
"Yes. What do you say?" He whispered frantically.
"Help me and you may," I whispered. He began to get up. "But," I warned. "My parents wont approve of our destination, so don't say a word about any performance!"
"Edward," Mrs. Mason wheezed. "Is this where you have been all this time? Come, your guests await your arrival." Next she spotted me. Possibly the largest smile split her face. "And who is your lady friend? She is quite a handsome girl, isn't she?"
I blushed as Edward groaned. "Mother, this isn't the time for one of your match making schemes. We ran into each other in the garden. This is Miss Swan. She isn't feeling well and I think it best for her to return home."
"Oh dear," The woman said, putting a hand to her cheek. "Then I'm afraid I'll have to let you go. Do you need a ride home, Miss Swan? I'm sure one of our chauffeurs would be able to escort you-."
"No thank you," I flinched at the idea of arriving home in an expensive car. "I think the fresh air would be good for me. My home isn't too far away. About an hour's walk."
"An hour's walk!" Both exclaimed at the same instant.
"It's good physical activity."
"Very well then. Edward, please see our friend to the gate. I will be expecting you in the parlor room directly afterwards."
He waiting for me to replace my shoes on my rather dirty feet before leading me forward with a hand steering on my elbow. Right when I was about to leave through the gate Edwards stopped me, once again.
"Don't forget what you promised." He warned.
"No worries, Edward. I won't forget. Wear a nice vest and your shiny shoes. I'll be expecting you at eight tomorrow night." We parted with goofy expressions of happiness on both our faces.