Sunlight came streaming
through the window, drenching the canopy bed in golden warmth. The sleeper
buried her face into the pillows, hoping to steal a few more peaceful
moments. A few days after the engagement party, Father left aboard one of
his steamers. Caprice insisted on the best silk for her wedding dress and of
course Father could not deny her anything. Dax was home for the summer,
which meant Cecile had at least one ally in the house. She attempted to spend
time with Caprice, yet found herself stepping into the lion’s mouth. Lately
Caprice had been more intolerable then usual… If only Father had not gone
away.
He smiled and kissed her before stepping into the carriage.
He smiled and kissed her before stepping into the carriage.
“Is there anything I can bring
back for you my dear?”
Cecile took his
hand and brought it to her lips. “Dear father, all I want is for you to return
home safe and sound.”
With a chuckle he gathered her into his arms. She nestled her head
against his coat, inhaling the sent of cologne.
“Please be careful,
I’ll pray for you every day.”
He held her closer, cheek pressed against her hair. “Be brave my little
maiden, and I’ll be home again before you know it.”
That was a month ago.
A door creaked. She peeked with
one eye as Ettie came into her room and began laying out her morning dress.
Relieved, Cecile turned over and snuggled deeper under the blankets.
Yesterday, Caprice burst into
her room before breakfast and demanded help with some trifle of the wedding. She
was getting very impatient. For she could not have her wedding until Father
returned, even then it would be at least a week to make the extravagant dress
she wanted. All she talked of was Andrew or Andrew’s family or the wedding
plans. When Father was mentioned she then prattled about the beautiful silk he
would bring home, and perhaps an exotic wedding present. Did she care for
Father at all? Stop that, Cecile scolded herself, of course she does.
Cecile groaned and sat up. Her mind was fully awake and would not let
her fall back asleep now. She slipped into her morning robe, ran a brush
through her hair and headed down stairs.
The smell of breakfast intensified as she entered the dinning room. The dinning table, large enough to hold a grand dinner party with room to spare, looked so lonely with only Dax sitting near the head. He stood when he saw her and offered a chair.
The smell of breakfast intensified as she entered the dinning room. The dinning table, large enough to hold a grand dinner party with room to spare, looked so lonely with only Dax sitting near the head. He stood when he saw her and offered a chair.
“Good morning Cecile. Did you
sleep well?”
She brightened and kissed his cheek. “Very well, and you?”
His face twisted into a grimace as they sat down.
“I had a dreadful dream that
you were kidnapped by giant sewer rats. They were monstrous, the size of large
dogs! They asked a ransom of five hundred pounds.”
Cecile laughed, “Did you give
it to them?”
“ No, I didn’t.” He admitted.
“In the dream I was a pickpocket living on the streets and couldn’t steal
enough money.”
“Oh dear, so what did the rats
do?”
“I’m afraid they ate you
alive. Would you like some tea?”
Her eyes widened. “Why that’s terrible! Tea sounds lovely, thank
you.”
“Oh it was, and it felt so
real too!” He lifted the silver teapot and filled her cup. “When I awoke, I had
to check and see if you where still here.”
Cecile blew lightly on the steaming earl gray and smiled, “That’s sweet
of you.”
Caprice swept into
the room. “What are you two talking about?”
Dax rose and pulled out her chair.
“Oh, nothing important. How
did you sleep last night?”
“Horrible! I hardly got a
wink, some lunatic was moaning about giant rats. I’m a very light sleeper you
know.”
Dax returned to his seat and took a sip of his tea. “I’m sorry you had
such a rough night. Giant rats you say? Someone must have had a curious dream.”
He winked at Cecile.
Hurried footsteps approached the dining room and the butler appeared in
the doorway.
“Sir, Mr. Hawthorne is here to
see you. He says he has urgent news concerning Master Bellerose.”
The table settings clattered as Dax and Cecile leapt up from their
places.
“Stay here,“ he ordered
Cecile, “I’ll go and speak to him.” Dax and the butler left the room.
Cecile sank into her chair, thinking of a dozen reasons why father’s
lawyer would come to their house so early in the day. None of which were good.
Her teacup rattled against the saucer as she lifted it with shaking hands.
Faint voices drifted by and fell silent behind the click of a latch.
Dear Lord, I’m so worried for
Father. You know where he is, and his life is in your hands…. Oh please God,
let Father be alive!
She looked up, hearing an awful sound and saw Caprice across the table
sobbing uncontrollably. Setting her cup down, she rushed to Caprice’s
side.
“Caprice, I’m sure Father will
be fine. Oh please stop crying.” Caprice threw herself on her sister with
a wail and soaked her shoulder with a fresh flood of tears. Cecile cradled the
shuddering figure in an embrace; a gesture abolished in their relationship
years ago, and cautiously stroked her hair.
“Hush… I’m worried for Father
too, but crying won’t help us now. We only need to wait for Dax to return and
tell us the news, until then all we can do is pray. You’ll simply tire yourself
with hysterics.”
“ I’ll never have my wedding!”
Caprice bawled.
Cecile pulled back in disbelief. “Your wedding? Father could be
adrift in the ocean and all you can think about is your wedding?” She seized
Caprice by the shoulders and stared into her reddened eyes.
Caprice whimpered, looking anywhere to avoid her sister’s accusing gaze.
Blubbering words tumbled from her lips as she shrank from Cecile’s sudden
audacity.
“I-if Father’s steamer has
sunk, we will all go down with it… and I’ll never have my wedding.”
When Dax returned, he looked
old.
His usually cheerful, handsome face was haggard and colorless. He
collapsed in the nearest chair and laid his head in his arms. Any hope Cecile
had left drained away the moment he stepped through the door. After a century
of heartbeats, trembling breath, and the ticking of the grandfather clock, he
lifted his head and spoke the dreaded words.
“Mr. Hawthorne received the
news early this morning. Father’s ship the SS Everhart was keeping contact with
a sister ship the SS Jeanne-Marie. Two days ago they were rounding the cape of
Africa on their way home. A storm blew in, worse than anything they had ever
seen. The Jeanne-Marie lost sight of the Everhart and when the skies cleared,
she was gone. Mr. Hawthorne and Father’s business managers will take care of
everything they can, but it seems that Father had a considerable amount of
money tied up in this venture and the buyers are demanding payment. I’m afraid
things are only going to get worse.”
On a cold rainy morning they stood in the street outside their home, a
thousand memories dancing before their eyes like phantoms. The vacant house
looked as stripped and abandoned as they felt. Dax clasped his sisters’ hands
firmly and whispered a prayer,
“Dear God, we know that You
work all things together for those who love you. And I am not going to pretend
to know what You are doing with all of this, but I do trust You. Please protect
us and guide us and give me the wisdom to know what to do. In Your Son’s name,
amen.”
Cecile’s eyes brimmed with tears,
and they began to spill down as she looked over at Caprice, who stared ahead
blankly. With a bundles of clothes, a few precious items, a small sum of money
left over from the sale and an address Mr. Hawthorne gave to them, they turned
and walked away.
The muddy cobblestones twisted and turned amidst the narrowing street.
Buildings seemed to crowd together and peer down at the people below. Beneath a
shop canopy Dax halted and pulled out the address from his coat pocket. Soggy
children dashed through the mud, veering round the carriages. One buggy raced
by at a dangerous speed, scattering the children and spraying mud everywhere. Cecile
found a clean corner of her shawl to wipe Caprice’s face, but it only smeared. A
street vendor shouted with a shaking fist, his baked potatoes dripping with the
foul water. The paper had found shelter under Dax’s coat in time and remained
intact. He looked up and around at the street signs, referred to the paper and
then back to signs. Finally, with an air of decision, he stepped into the rain.
“It shouldn’t be much farther
now, come on.”
Caprice huddled against his arm, head down, like a frighten child. After
Father’s death, everything disappeared; their home, belongings, friends, even
Andrew vanished after the news, and like a gust of air to candle, the tragedy
blew Caprice out.
People scurried into doorways, around corners and down stairwells to get
out of the rain; everyone had a place to go. Cecile held tight to Dax’s hand,
but not from fear; for the crowd was swift and she was determined not to lose
any more of her family.
This life, so foreign from her own, was only a half dozen blocks away from Bellerose Mansion. Well, it wasn’t Bellerose Mansion anymore, she supposed with an odd feeling creeping through her. That life was gone, forever.
This life, so foreign from her own, was only a half dozen blocks away from Bellerose Mansion. Well, it wasn’t Bellerose Mansion anymore, she supposed with an odd feeling creeping through her. That life was gone, forever.
“Here we are.” At Dax’s words she looked up.
A door, once painted
red, emblazoned with black 27 stood resolutely at the base of the tall brick
building. He rapped on the door and then waited.
Here we are… those words echoed in her mind.
This would be her life now.
Here we are… those words echoed in her mind.
This would be her life now.
Becca, Im loving it more and more! Love the Jane Austin feel :)
ReplyDeleteOh dear, Dax is dreaming about R.O.U.S.! That's pretty scary. :)
ReplyDeleteI'm really enjoying the story! I can't wait to see what you've done with the rest of Beauty and the Beast. I'm loving what you've done so far.
I really am enjoying this!
ReplyDelete