Title: Kingdom of Hearts
Beta(s): Midnight Cougar
Word Count: 3784
Summary: A young aristocrat at odds with her purpose in life. Choosing between duty versus matters of the heart is not for the weak.
Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable characters herein. No copyright infringement is intended.
England 1865
"Isabella, do not frown. You will get wrinkles before you have children," my mother says with a look that makes me think she's smelling something rancid.
She widens her brown eyes and takes a deep breath as she looks at me. Her favorite reaction when directing her attention toward me. She always tries to keep her face from much emotion, but I think her exasperation with me almost always threatens to break her beautiful, stone-faced facade.
"Goodness, Renee, you have scared the poor girl with these ultimatums. I don't think any of us would be happy to be put in her situation," my Aunt Sue says.
Unlike my mother, she shows all of her thoughts and feelings through her expressions. She has beautiful blue eyes that resemble sea glass, a pretty round face that shows her laugh lines, dusted freckles, and red cheeks. I'll forever be grateful that she lives with us. She tends to be a good buffer between Mother and me, but there is only so much my auntie can do when it comes to my mother setting a plan into motion.
"Well, Sue, I speak the truth, and you know it. Thanks to the hospitality and gracious deposition of your brother, you're able to live in a safe and stable home. Most old maidens are shoved aside and forgotten." My mother sips her tea and raises her left brow ever so slightly.
She knows where to dig her claws when it comes to my Aunt Sue. I can see the hurt flash in my auntie's eyes, and I feel responsible for causing my mother to snap at her.
"Mother, please. Auntie is only looking out for me," I say, as I make myself take a deep breath.
I grip the sides of my full skirts as I sit across from them in our family's drawing room. I am thankful Auntie Sue left the ladies' chair for me to sit on, as if being on a different seat would protect me from my mother's wrath.
It has always felt so stuffy being in this room. The heavy gold drapes covering the windows, the black piano in the corner waiting for me to make the most hideous sounds, and portraits of those of importance enough to be remembered. It is my mother's favorite room in the house, because of course, it is the place I hate most.
"I am the one looking out for you, Isabella. I'm looking out for all of us. Are you so selfish that you do not think of what could happen if you don't find a suitable husband?"
My mother stares intently at me as she slams her white teacup down on the saucer, making me flinch. I don't think I've ever seen my mother this upset. She habitually pesters me about getting married, but this reaction just seems so . . . desperate.
"What do you mean, 'all of us'? Is something the matter?" I ask with concern.
I think of my father Charles and worry he is sicker than I have been told. I observe my mother as she takes another deep breath. She opens her mouth at the same time as one of our servants enters the room. My mother closes her mouth in an instant and stares at our servant, Lily. Lily realizes quickly that she has walked into an important and what seems like a sensitive conversation. I see her hurriedly set down the silver platter that contains finger sandwiches with assorted fillings, savory tarts, and Auntie Sue's favorite pastry.
"Thank you, dear," Auntie Sue says to Lily.
Lily curtsies toward my mother, the Baroness, and leaves the room without a sound.
My Auntie Sue bites her bottom lip as her eyes widen at the platter before her.
"Sue, you need to stop being so familiar with the help." My mother snaps at my aunt.
The fire in my mother's eyes makes me realize that something must be seriously wrong if she's displaying all of this emotion. My Auntie Sue rolls her eyes and reaches for her pastry, as my mother takes another deep breath. I feel a hole in my stomach, and set my right hand on top of it, hoping it will somehow fill the void.
"You know your father's health is not as it once was. He has taken a step back from many things, and that comes with consequences. We must secure our standing and future of this family, and you are our only hope. You are wasting your best years, and soon enough, you will run out of options," my mother says with frustration.
I sigh in relief. My mother's reasoning is nothing new, and as of the past year, it seems to be our only topic of conversation.
"Mother," I plead, "why are you not having this conversation with James? He is to inherit father's title. Should he not be the one who must worry about this family's future?" I huff, letting my mother see some of my frustration.
My Auntie Sue looks back and forth between my mother and me, and her big blue eyes are round as saucers with interest.
"Watch your tongue, young lady," she reprimands. "Your brother has enough on his plate trying to help your father with all of his responsibilities." My mother picks up her tea again and stares out the window that overlooks one of our gardens.
"Mother, we all know James is more worried about attending as many dinner parties in the social season as he can," I say, pursing my lips.
I love my dear brother James, but he, along with his best friend Laurent, is a real rascal who finds amusement in everything and nothing. I suppose I should be somewhat worried about relying on someone like James, but I also refuse to be married off merely for the sake of our rank.
"I hope you come to your senses soon enough and stop being so childish. I knew your father spoiled you beyond reason but look at the consequences. You think you can do as you wish." My mother scoffs with disdain.
I, once again, take a calming breath and reach for my own tea. Staring at the dark jade liquid filling my cup, I wonder if perhaps being of a lower social standing would be an easier life to live. Perhaps I should be brave and share with my mother some of my feelings, some of my life she knows nothing about. I know if my father listens to my story, he may be inclined to support me, but I am not sure my mother will understand.
I take another deep breath and slowly release it. Then I look up to find my mother watching me with narrowed eyes, waiting to see what I will say, as if she knows I am about to disappoint her. I hold her stare for a couple of seconds and bite my lip to keep from shouting out my thoughts. I purse my lips and start timidly.
"Mother, I-I want to be happy. I want what you and father have. You have both cared so deeply for one another, yet I have seen many of my friends consumed by the ache of being with someone who does not care for them at all. I have seen what a loveless marriage looks like, and I do not know how I could possibly live in such a way. I understand our situation might be . . ." I pause. ". . .delicate. But I would rather live in a much less lavish way and be happy than to ha—"
My mother cackles and stops my little speech from continuing. She tightens her mouth and breathes in and out rapidly.
"You would never survive a life as a commoner. You have never worked a day in your life, as it should be for a respectable young lady. You think you would have time to read your silly books and stroll in the gardens without a care?" She wildly waves a hand around in the gardens' general direction. "I thought you were foolish, but this is another level that shocks me, even from you." She closes her eyes and breathes deeply.
I feel my eyes sting and fill with tears at her words. Perhaps she is right. I would not know the first thing about keeping up with the daily running of a home.
Our servants always seem to have everything ready for our disposal. I frequently see poor Lily running around doing some sort of task—dusting, arranging flowers, helping me every day to dress, or assisting our cook, Mrs. Stanley. I remember a while ago coming down to the kitchen after midnight for some warm milk and Lily was still in the kitchen prepping for the next day.
I realize it is such a bad idea not to heed my mother's warnings, and the thought of it fills me with so much hopelessness that it silences me completely. I suppose that certain mountains are never meant to be climbed. I decide it is for the best simply to let it go. I need to let go. It will be much easier for everyone involved. The thought of letting go of my own desires grips me with so much fear that it makes my bottom lip tremble.
"I-I would like to be excused to go for a walk down by the park, if that is all right, Mother." Not necessarily a question, yet still gives her power over my life.
My mother stares at me with disappointment and frustration, and it further cements my decision.
"Fine. Perhaps you need some air to clear out those delusional thoughts. You will get us nowhere with that sort of wistful thinking." She sips again at her tea as if we are merely discussing the weather, dismissing me.
I glance at my auntie, and she gives me such a look of compassion that it tugs at my chest to know I will never receive such a look from my mother. I set my teacup and saucer at the small table next to me. On top of the chestnut furniture sits a picture of my father and a flower arrangement of pink hyacinth that fills the room with its perfume, and they calm me somewhat with their presence.
"Make sure you take a servant with you," Mother says offhandedly and turns her back to me.
"Yes, Mother." I sigh quietly as I stand and head toward the big doorway that leads into the parlor. I close the heavy door behind me and look around, hoping to spot Lily nearby.
It is a fairly quiet afternoon and most of the servants are getting things ready for dinner. I decide to head to my room to gather my hat and parasol, and head out. Get this over with, I tell myself. I'm halfway up the main staircase when I spot Lily crossing the entrance hall heading toward the dining room.
"Lily! Thank goodness. Please get ready . . . I need to go to the park," I whisper-yell and emphasize the last word by raising my eyebrows while giving her a pleading look.
Poor Lily instantly freezes and looks like she wants to walk straight back from where she came.
"Lily, please hurry, we don't have much time," I declare, as I head upstairs to gather my things.
"Yes, Lady Isabella." She sounds resigned and yet worried for the risk we are both taking.
I look ahead and tell myself I must be strong for what is to come.
Nearing the park, I try to keep my eyes from straying and giving me away. My anxious heart wants nothing but to leap out of my chest. Lily rushes after me as we make our way toward the bench behind the big English oak tree. Today, the park's trails are not as busy; exactly as it was planned.
I finally reach the bench, and I feel as if my legs will give out, so I scramble to sit. Lily stands silently behind me, lowering her head, yet I know she is aware of every little movement around me. I take calming breaths and dust off invisible lint from my salmon-colored dress and smooth out any wrinkles.
"Would you like some shade, my lady, while you wait?" Lily asks quietly.
I simply shake my head and continue to take deep breaths as I look straight ahead and focus on the trees surrounding the park. There is a slight, welcomed breeze that gently relieves some of the warm weather. I still feel how the back of my neck is slightly damp with perspiration, and I am unsure if it is due to the weather or my nerves. I hear a twig snap behind us and straighten my back, taking a full breath.
"Good day, my lady," a deep voice says, coated with amusement.
I pray his good humor never fades, yet I know the seriousness of the situation will erase any mirth from his tone.
I look around and spot the nearest people down the path of the trail. It is far enough away that I cannot see whose face I am looking at and pray they do not recognize me either.
"Lily, please walk around the trail. I need only five minutes," I say with a hole in my chest that is getting bigger as the time progresses.
"My lady, please," Lily pleads. She has always tried to get me to see reason, but I've been foolish enough to ignore her.
"I promise we will head home right away," I reassure her, as I continue to scan the trail for anyone coming our way.
"As you wish, my lady," Lily responds and walks away.
I see her pick up her pace, and I know she will be back in less than five minutes. There is a moment of utter silence. As if Lily had taken all of the sound around us. I hear a throat clear, and I can sense how close he has gotten in the absence of Lily.
"Isa . . . is . . . did your . . ." he starts nervously. "What is going on?" he asks with a slight tremble in his voice. He knows. He knows this is different, that I have brought with me a bridge to create as much distance as possible.
"We were a pair of fools. My family will never approve of this, of us. My mother will forever hate me, and I cannot have her sorrow in my consciousness," I say coldly, as much as it kills me inside.
I told myself I would not cry. I have never deserved him and his kind soul. My cowardice is proof of that.
Suddenly, I hear him move, and I see as he makes his way around the bench to stand right in front of me. I have always thought of him as the most handsome man I have ever seen. On top of his head, he wears a dark blue top hat. His uniform is the same dark shade with eight silver buttons running down from the top of his chest to the middle of his torso. His duty band on his left forearm displays the black and white stripes. He hates wearing the white pants during the summer months, but I've always thought it makes him look younger. His gentle, hazel eyes pin me in place when I glance up at him, yet I can see the desperation behind the gaze. He silently observes me while a small frown forms on his handsome face.
"Isa, where is this coming from? Last time we spoke, we had agreed that we needed to be upfront with your family. I agree we cannot continue living this way. I love you and I refuse to accept you giving up on us so easily." His deep voice cuts in painfully, making my eyes water.
How did I possibly think I could walk away from what we've had without shedding a tear for this wonderful man. He has always been so brave, and I wish I could find it in myself to also be as brave.
He scans the area to make sure nobody has spotted us or overheard us. His quick perusal of the trails makes him look like the constable that he is—always alert and ready to act.
"Jasper, there is nothing I could do or say to my family that would make them approve of us. I prayed and hoped that my mother would have some compassion to let me decide whom I shall marry . . ." At this information, he whips his head toward me.
"They're marrying you off?" he asks incredulously.
"No. No, nothing like that. Not yet anyway. But my mother has made it perfectly clear that my decision-making is questionable, and I fear she is right. How can I abandon them? I love you. I do. But I would forever live the rest of my days broken-hearted that I brought such shame to them," I say sadly, shaking my head, making the tears finally roll down my cheeks.
"Oh, so you're ashamed of me?" he deduces with anger.
"You know that is not what I meant," I say sharply. "But Mother reminded me of my station . . ."
"Am I not enough then? Is my love not enough for you? I do not want to make you choose, but I fear it has come down to that. We must make the decision to live our love freely of judgment, and that starts by accepting that perhaps you might never make your family happy," he says, gentle but firm.
I really, truly do not deserve him.
"You are everything to me, and I want to keep fighting for us. I just fear we have run out of time. I want you to be happy, Jasper. You deserve a good woman. Someone who is proud to have you as their husband and would take on the world alongside you. I have never been brave, and I don't think I can be brave enough to defy my family." I speak with such shame.
He shakes his head, and I watch as one of his golden locks escapes from his hat. I curl my hands into fists to keep myself from reaching out.
"Isa, let's leave," he suggests, as my heart jumps to my throat. "I have a cousin who lives in Manchester and I'm sure she would be happy to welcome us into her home. We can build a new life there. A life without judgment, where I can take you on walks and hold your hand as you tell me all about the newest story that you've been reading," Jasper says with a tremor in his voice. "I refuse to give up on us, on you. And if you won't fight for this love, I will fight for the both of us."
He speaks with such passion that I fear I cannot argue with him. My heart continues to break, realizing that I will either shatter his soul or my family's. Either way, my choices will bring sorrow and despair to us all. I look toward the end of the trail as I see a figure approaching and recognize Lily. I turn back to Jasper and make my decision. His face instantly in anguish as he guesses what the next words will be uttered.
"Please, do not make this harder than it nee—"
"No. Stop, just stop." He cuts me off. "Give me a couple of days, all right?" he pleads desperately. "Let me work out a plan and you decide what we do then."
"I need to get back." I don't answer him as I stand and turn toward an approaching Lily.
I sense him as he closes in. A citrus kind of smell that makes me think of summer and its gentle breeze. His warmth radiates toward mine and my breath leaves my body.
"Do not ask me to give up on us, Isa. I will fight for you for the rest of my days." He reaches my side, and I can almost feel his body touch mine. "I will let you know when I have a plan in place. I understand it is a risk to meet in such a public way, but I will find a way to get in contact, even if it's only a short letter. Just . . . be patient. We will get through this."
My tears fully coat my face, and I try to even out my breath. I fear that if I open my lips a sob will escape me, so I merely continue to look straight ahead as Lily closes in. I reach up and pat dry my face. My creamed-lace gloves absorb the salty remnants of my soul. I clear my throat and reach out to Lilly as she hands me my parasol.
"Good day to you, sir," I say quietly, but with finality, as I tilt my head slightly toward him.
"I love you, Isa," he responds with his voice breaking at his nickname for me.
Lily squeaks and looks at me with round eyes that portray the insanity of the situation. Lily knew about us, but I'm not sure she knew this went beyond a simple acquaintance. I'm sure if asked she would take this secret to her grave.
I purse my lips to keep from responding or crying out, not sure how my body will respond to his declaration. I step away from him and start down the walk that leads to the end of the trail. I know, at one point, our luck will run out, and I pray we are all prepared for its consequences. It is with that final thought, that I pick up my pace and head home.
It must have been my distraction. The perfect combination of my quick pace and desperation that suddenly makes me run into a hard body as soon as I turn the corner that leads to my street. I grunt softly as my nose hits the hard chest of a gentleman, and I put up my hands, hoping to soften the blow. His scent, woodsy with a hint of spice while a slight backing of leather, tickles my senses. Strong, firm hands grip my forearms and keep me from tumbling and landing on my behind.
"I got you, my lady," he whispers. His voice is a baritone with a huskiness that raises every little hair on my body.
I gasp and look up in alarm at his striking face, and stare at the deepest emerald-green eyes I have ever seen.
Little did I know, his first words to me would be something I would hear quite often from that point forward.
