V.

And so, the letters continued, back and forth from the two lovers. Victoria was forever grateful to her maid for risking so much for her, and said so often. Hildegarde would always just smile and continue dressing Victoria, bringing up breakfast, or other books to hide the letters in. Victoria would read most of the day and night and finish her book, so she could have a fresh novel delivered to her come morning…along with news from Victor.

It was the morning of the 27th day when Hildegarde shuffled back into Victoria's room to deliver another letter. No matter how many times Victoria received one, she always felt a brand new jolt of excitement. The girl, already dressed in her black attire and ready to read her letter, thanked her maid yet again and sat by the fire to read.

My Dear Victoria,

Almost a month has gone by since your mourning began. I take a small comfort in knowing there are only eleven more to go…

As you can plainly see, writing to you is so much easier than talking in person. You know me; I get so flustered around you…even now I think I've said too much. I really wish we could talk face-to-face…just so I can get over my fear.

Anyway, the weather doesn't seem to be changing at all, but what else is new? I honestly don't think I ever remember a sunny day in this gloomy little town. You should have seen the Land of the Dead. It was bright, musical, jazzy and friendly and…well, fun. Why can't the real world be like that?

I remember the very first day we met as clearly as if it were yesterday. You startled me quite a bit as I made my fumbling apologies and you just stood there, smiling. I loved your smile from the beginning, you know. Anyway, you seemed to be the only one who shared my love for music, though your mother thought it was improper. Whenever I tripped over my words or even my own feet, you never stopped to laugh at me, call me a ninny or a fool…you are just so different from everyone else I had ever met…

Anyway, of course I'm straying away from the topic. But I was thinking that, well, you do seem to love music and I hate that your parents deprive you from it so…I was hoping that, when we get married, perhaps I could teach you the piano? It's all right if you don't want to I just…well, let me know.

We really need to find a way to see each other without getting caught…

Please reply, as always.

All my love,

Victor

Victoria sighed dreamily, set the letter in the secret box under her pillow (especially for Victor's letters) and hurried over to her desk to pull out her ink. She made herself comfortable and began to write.

My Dearest Victor,

Oh, I can hardly wait for your novel! Now I'll really know what happened down there with Emily…Speaking of which, do you remember her lovely bouquet of flowers she gave me before she left? I still have them. It seemed wrong to throw them away, and I want to keep her memory alive…

I do wish I could see her again. But I have a feeling we will, someday.

Of course speaking in writing is much easier than having to talk to someone's face. I feel the same way. My reticent nature has always made it hard for me to socialize…especially as a child. My mother had never let me out of her sight, with her rigorous attitude towards me and making sure I grow up a "proper young lady." I guess she was so determined because when I was but a little child I…I used to bite things. Please don't ask why, I have no idea. Honestly, I would chew on my father's sleeve, bite table legs, mother's hand…actually I find it rather funny. Hildegarde says my teeth were as razor sharp as a steak knife. I never would have shared this with you if I didn't love you so much. And since we're getting married anyway…I thought you might laugh out loud at this. And who knows? We may both burst into laughter at the alter; while our parents look on, flabbergasted.

Victor? I have a somewhat absurd thing to ask you, and I won't be offended if you don't answer, but I've been wondering…did you love Emily? I hope more than anything that I didn't take you away from something you wanted…She was lovely, and I really do want you to be happy if we do marry, and not feeling regret. This is just a little something I need to know. I feel no jealousy towards her.

I think I hear my mother coming upstairs. I'd better stop.

Just remember I love you, Victor.

~Victoria

Victoria fumbled with her letter. She couldn't fold it up for the ink was still wet. The footsteps were growing ever louder and quicker. Finally, finding no where else to put it, she stuffed the letter in a drawer just as her door lock clicked and Mrs. Everglot glided into the room like a ghost. She turned towards her daughter who tried to smile casually. After all, she had never hidden anything from her mother before.

"Good morning, mother," she said. "Did you sleep well?"

"Well enough," Mrs. Everglot answered sharply, as if Victoria had barged into her room.

Victoria stood up and folded her hands in front of her, trying to make her face look forlorn. She bowed her head.

"Feeling depressed today, are we?" her mother asked, with a hint of amusement in her voice.

"Yes, mother," she said as convincingly as she could. "The days are long, and it is quite stuffy in here…" Victoria knew her mother wouldn't take the hint to open a window, but she might as well try.

Her mother, as she predicted, acted like she hadn't heard her and strode about the room, her beady eyes scanning the bedroom like a greedy hawk…almost as if she was looking for something. Victoria cast a worried glance to her desk drawer, but quickly averted her gaze so her mother wouldn't notice. She cleared her throat.

"Er…mother," she asked tentatively. "Do you need something?"

Her mother straightened up from looking under the sofa and turned to her daughter, a slightly wicked grin on her face.

"Actually, yes I do," she replied in a silky tone. "You see, mothers can always tell when their daughters are hiding something from them. You've been unusually cheerful these past weeks, and I intend to find out what it is, unless you are willing to be a proper young lady and tell me yourself."

Victoria stood dumbstruck. She knows. But how? Her mother could never read her daughter; Victoria wasn't exactly an open book. She must have gotten the information from someone…but Hildegarde wouldn't say anything!

Victoria's mother's beady eyes finally rested on her daughter's writing desk. The ink was still laid out with the cap removed, and a wet quill hung from it, a dead giveaway. Mrs. Everglot strode over to the desk almost too casually and fingered the feather quill.

"My, my," she murmured. "Being creative, are we?"

Victoria's hands shook so violently, she hid them behind her back.

This is terrible! She thought. There are so many things in that letter that are strictly confidential…I spoke of Emily, too many lovey-dovey words between Victor and myself…but worse than that, I talked about my childhood and my own mother! She'll have my head!

But Victoria kept her mouth shut, waiting for the inevitable thing to happen.

Mrs. Everglot's bony fingers traced over the desktop, over the feather quill, and finally reached the dull, brass handle of the drawer. She gave a small smile as she pulled it back and stared into its contents. Victoria hung her head and shut her eyes tight.

The long, pallid fingers reached in (it seemed like slow-motion to Victoria) and pulled out a stack of papers. Her mother leafed through them, looking over each one carefully, until she stopped, eyes as wide as dinner plates. She clenched the papers tight and pulled one sheet out, dropping the rest on the cold, wooden floor.

"I knew it! What is the meaning of this?!" she cried. Victoria wanted to melt into the floorboards. The wedding was off for sure.

"Victoria, how dare you write something like this? Right under my nose, too!" She shook the paper in the girl's face, hers red with anger. "Haven't you learned a thing, you wretched girl? How many times have I said it is too passionate to write things like this! Oh, what will the neighbors think of me?" Mrs. Everglot collapsed in her chair and read over the paper again. "You know there is no such thing as a…as a…a corpse bride!"

Victoria's face was as red as a beet. She fidgeted with the sleeved of her black gown, waiting for her mother to say, "What impropriety! Writing secret letters behind my back when you shouldn't be speaking to anyone in the first place! That's it! You may never see that Van Dort boy again!" It broke her heart just thinking about it.

Finally, Mrs. Everglot stood up and turned to her daughter, whose legs were as shaky as jelly. The tall, ghoulish woman glared into her daughter's eyes. "How dare you befuddle your mind with such ludicrous stories! Things like this do not exist in real life! My own daughter has gone mad!"

Victoria looked up, completely puzzled. "Excuse me, mother? A story?"

"Yes!" her mother snapped, as if a story was the worst thing in the world. "And I can't believe I let Hildegarde bring you those miserable books, filling your mind with such fantasy!"

Now Victoria really was confused. "Pardon?"

With an exasperated groan, Victoria's mother handed her the sheet of paper she had taken, but it wasn't the letter at all. It was the a section of the "story of the corpse bride" Victoria had written a while back:

"Overcome with compassion for the corpse bride, the young bride knelt down and gathered up that old heap of bones, carefully arranging the shredded silk finery and holding her close, half sang, half murmured, as if cradling a crying infant, "Don't worry, I'll live your dreams for you. I'll live your hopes for you. I'll have your children for you. I'll have enough children for the two of us, and you can rest in peace knowing that our children and our children's children will be well cared for and will not forget us."

"Oh, don't read that out loud, child!" said the dramatic mother. "I never want you to write anything so absurd again! Is that understood?"

Victoria – mouth gaped open at her sheer luck – could only nod.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Whoa, that was a close one, no? Was there anybody reading who actually thought Mrs. Everglot had actually read the letter?

COMMENTS PLEASE!

3 FallenRose19