by Rosanna Young
Lavinia sat in the window seat trying to look out over the park-like grounds that surrounded the manor house her husband had imprisoned her in for most of her ill-fated marriage. Instead, her view of the wet world beyond was blocked by the reflection of her own face and as she watched, a tear mimicked the trail of a raindrop on the outside of the window, running slowly down the cold pain of glass.
She had thought her life was just beginning when the handsomest man she had ever met asked her to dance at her best friend's wedding. For a woman on the shelf at the advanced age of 24, any man's attention was, as her mama put it, a godsend. Of course, she was the maid of honor, and he was the groom's best man and younger brother, so he had had no choice but to dance with her. She had floated on air for the whole of the waltz they had shared.
She hadn't seen him again until her friend, now Lady Ann, had invited her to visit with her in the country. Ann was already expecting and wouldn't be going into town for the social season. Not that it showed, of course not since it was only a just discovered miracle, but Ann was content to stay at home and bask in the wondrous feelings of impending motherhood ... wondrous except for those nasty bouts of morning sickness. Vinnie had no desire to endure another season either. Just the thought of once again trying to parade herself in front of that pack of young men made her cringe. She was never going to find a husband. They all wanted one of those pale little waifs that were so popular, and waif she was not. Oh, not so tall really, maybe 5'4", but that made eating that last cake more dangerous, and more times than not, Vinnie gave into the urge to eat, rather than care that the small confection would just land right on her hips.
When Lavinia arrived at the home of her friend she was ushered into the drawing room, a cozy space with cushy wicker furniture scattered around in the newest style. There he was. The first thing she saw upon entering was him! She had not even considered he would be there, but since he was her host's brother, it made sense that he might be in residence. He hadn't noticed her yet, and so she took time to study him for a moment as he smoked his pipe, and stroked a black cat that happened to be sharing the chair with him. I'll remember him that way always, she thought.
"Ohh, Robert! Hello. I didn't realize you would be here. Remember me, Lavinia? I was at the wedding," she said, holding out her hand in greeting.
Lavinia's visit flew by, and after extending for another week, she had to return home. Despite her wishes, her mother and father wanted her to take her place in the social whirl. Whether she wanted it or not, it was expected of her.
It was at the beginning of her second week at home that she saw him riding in the park. The huge black stallion the perfect foil for his rugged manliness. Lavinia watched him covertly, not wishing to reveal to her friends that she knew the handsome man they were all watching.
He first approached her at a ball the next night, seeking out their hostess for a proper introduction before sweeping her onto the dance floor for a waltz.
From then on, he made clear his intentions, or so she thought. He took her in his carriage to the park, and they went to the art museums, and boating on the Thames. The summer seemed to pass in a dream. And when her 25th birthday came in July, he came to her with a ring, and asked for her hand. Nothing was said about love, but even at her age, Vinnie was naïve about the ways of men and women, having been quite shy. She just assumed that he loved her as much as she loved him.
Ha!
Then came that horrendous night. She was having trouble sleeping, and thought maybe a sip of brandy and some boring poetry from the library would help. She tip-toed down the stairs in the dark. She didn't need a candle in her own home, and she found that circumstance hid her presence from the two men in that very room. The door was ajar, and the conversation inside had gotten a bit loud, so it was easy to understand every word. Her father seemed to be well into his cups, a condition he seemed to be in more and more these days. His words were slurred, but understandable.
"So, Sir Robert - you want to marry Lavinia, do ya?"
Robert, who had gotten the right impression of Vinnie's father from the beginning, replied cautiously. "Well, it was time I succumbed to the old ball and chain, and since she's a friend of my sister-in-law, I thought she'd be as good as any other." He didn't know why, but he didn't think that the man in front of him wanted to hear that he had fallen in love with his daughter while she had visited with Lady Ann. Then, Sir John, Vinnie's father, had approached him about wedding his daughter. Remembering who he was, and noticing that he had been paying attention to the daughter that he had started to see as a mill stone around his neck, he hadn't even tried to be tactful, instead offering him an outrageous sum of money to take his last daughter off his hands.
"She needs a man to keep her in line, a husband to fill her with babies. So, I'm happy that you decided to take me up on my offer, Robert."
"I'll take good care of her, sir."
"UH? Oh yeah, make sure you do. That was a hell of a lot of money I gave you to marry her."
"Sir..." He paused because he thought he heard a soft gasp in the hallway, but when he looked there was no one there.
Lavinia fled the hallway, determined to get far from the man she loved, and hated, so she never heard his protestations.
Lavinia had no idea how to hide her distress from the man who had stolen her heart while he had only pretended to want her. Instead she avoided him whenever she could. She was too busy arranging for her trousseau, there were arrangements to be completed for the wedding, invitations to write out, flowers to be ordered, anything at all to keep her busy and her mind away from the thoughts that crowded it.
When they went out in the evenings, she pretended to be cold and indifferent, to be the impersonal wife he wanted, when it was killing her to know she would have to hide her love from the one man she wanted to share it with.
Robert, on the other hand didn't understand the new woman his fianceé had become. The laughing, vivacious woman he loved had turned into a somber, unsmiling one that showed none of the Vinnie he had come to know, and he had no idea where she had gone. When he tried to talk to her, she changed the subject. When he tried to kiss her, she turned her head so his lips never brushed across more than her cheek.
"It's not proper," she would say. What she really wanted to say was, "What do you care?" But she didn't have the nerve.
Two days before the wedding, Lavinia had had as much as she could stand. Making preparations for a wedding she was beginning to dread, that she no longer could bear the thought of, Vinnie wandered through the garden behind her father's town home. Finding her favorite nook, a bench enclosed in a small rose arbor, she sat and let the tears come. What was she going to do? If she gave in, would he come to love her? How silly she had been, when she had accepted his hand, to believe he had wanted her for herself. She should have known that a younger son would have an ulterior motive, the need for the money her father had offered enough to overlook someone such as she.
"My Lady?" came a soft voice. "Can I help you?"
"Oh Stephen," she said softly, "I don't think so." Stephen was the gardener who took care of the beautiful roses that she was shredding into a pile of petals at her feet.
"Please, tell me." Although it was quite unconventional, he came around the bench and sat next to her. They had been friends for a long time, even though he was a servant, and she his lady. She had grown up helping the gardeners to care for the flowers she had loved so much. They had helped to nurture her along with the garden because, as with any child of the aristocracy, she had been raised as much by the hired help as by her mother. Her father had had nothing to do with it at all - until he had mucked up her whole life by buying her a husband.
She poured out her story to him, tears flowing as hard and fast as the words they accompanied. By the time she had finished, Stephen had drawn her onto his lap to hold her as she cried, something he hadn't done since she was a wee one and had skinned her knees trying to help him work in the garden.
That was how her father found them.
"What the hell is going on here?! Get away from my daughter!!"
"Papa! It's not what you think! Really, as if I would!"
"Really, I can see with my own eyes, Missy. You are fired," he threw at Stephen. "Get away from here, and my daughter this instant."
Lavinia threw Stephen a look of regret as her father dragged her into the house.
Towing his recalcitrant daughter into the library behind him, Sir John turned on her with all the veracity of a rabid dog.
"What the hell was that all about?" he yelled at her.
"We were just talking, papa."
"I could see that," was the sarcastic answer. "He was holding you for god's sake!"
"I'm just unhappy, papa," came the quiet reply.
"How could you possibly be unhappy?! I arranged the best possible marriage for you, and in two days you'll be a married lady."
"That just it," she said. "I'm not sure that I want to marry Robert."
"And you want to marry that that upstart I found you with outside?"
"No sir. I just don't want to marry Robert, that's all."
"Why not?"
"Because he doesn't love me."
Her answer resulted in a roar of laughter. "Of course he doesn't. What the hell does that have to do with anything?"
"Do you think I've been unwed this long to give myself away for money?"
"You'll do as I say, Missy, and that's that. Too much money has changed hands at this point, and all the arrangements have been made. You'll do as I say, do you hear me?"
"No sir, I won't."
Lavinia had only seen her father's face turn that particular shade of purple a couple of times before in her life, and knew that things didn't bode well for her. Trying to flee, she only got as far as the locked door when her father grabbed her by the arm and started dragging her towards the big desk that stood towards the end of the room.
Holding roughly to her elbow while he took a leather strap from the topmost drawer, Livvie's father pushed her over the desk. Holding her there with his left arm, he raised her dress with the other, uncovering her down to her drawers, whilst covering her head with her skirts.
"You will be married in two days! Is that clear?" he yelled, as he brought the strap down with a wicked force.
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