Chapter I.I from the English fiction novel: The War of Legendary Secrets
A bluebird perched gently on my sill,
curiously observing my peculiar behavior. For today was a day of days, it was July 16th, 1882; the sun’s rays shined brightly and the dew’s drops freshly blanketed the ground, arousing the wanderer inside of me. I quickly pulled on my favorite hooded blue cloak, and slipped out my bedroom door, and down the hall. As I crept passed my mother’s door, a floorboard creaked obnoxiously. I froze, knowing if I woke my mother up, I would be forced to sit through another lesson on proper ladylike behavior, as wearing my dress without a corset on, as was the current state, was not in proper fashion. After minutes of sound silence, I continued on down the hall, and approached the staircase. I squatted down and crawled to a pillar nearby. I could hear the voices of my father and a man murmuring to one another; if only I could sneak by unnoticed…
“As I was saying Morgan, my daughter, Genine, has many wonderful qualities, but...”
“Indeed. Quite a lovely lady, Lord Jostany. She would make any man a happy husband.”
Thank god it’s her and not me,
I thought to myself, as I crept passed the doorway to my father’s study where they were sitting, and slipped outside.
My older sister, Genie, was always sought after by young, wealthy, good-looking men of Perth Amboy, New Jersey (the closest town to where we lived). She had beautiful, long, flowing, golden locks and was never caught anywhere without her corset on. Her eyelashes kissed her perfect eyebrows, and her eyes reflected the white glowing sand of the beaches nearby. I envied her and the ease in which being a lady came to her. I never felt I would look or act the way I was hoped too.
I looked nothing like my sister,
I thought to myself, as I sat with my toes in the sand, staring at my reflection in a tide pool near my legs. I had chest length, dark-brown hair, which sat in ringlets, and a set of eyes the color of seaweed and algae. My lips weren’t plump and full, they were thin and definitely not kissable in my eyes. I couldn’t walk in heels, and my chest, torso, and butt were never seen as slim enough by my mother, as she constantly attempted to reform them into my sister’s slender anatomy. I always heard the parts of the conversations that I wasn’t supposed to. I had a fiery temper, and whenever a man tried to approach me, well let's just say I found myself awkward with words.
I was hopeless...I am hopeless..
“Oh well,” I thought aloud.
I stood up and started off down the beach in the direction of my favorite spot to sit, where I could oversee the waves, and still see the house. It was my chosen spot to work on my drawings. I wasn’t that good yet, but they improved with every day. As I set my stuff down against the boulder I used as an easel, a squirrel jumped down from the tree behind me, startling me greatly.
“Ahh!” I yelled as I jumped back.
“Oh gosh, little squirrel you scared me to death. Now go on, shoo!”
The squirrel squeaked at me and jumped off the boulder, running across my feet. I took a step back out of the way, and tripped over a rock behind me.
“Whoops!”
I heard a man say as he caught me. I froze. I turned my head slightly, so as to see who it was, and felt myself shudder as I went into a full body blush. He smiled.
“You must be Clara. My brother is Morgan, the man whom I believe is asking your father for your sister’s hand, yet again...hopeless as it seems to be.”
I still couldn’t speak as he proceeded to prop me up. Feeling as if I might faint, I quickly leaned against the tree.
"I beg your pardon, where are my manners, my name is Lawrence, Lawrence Thyne.” he smiled with a bow.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
So I shut it again and looked down.
Opening his mouth to speak, he began with a question, “So what are…?”
Just then, Morgan yelled for him to come down to the carriage as they were getting ready to leave.
“I'm coming!” He yelled back.
He reached out for my hand, and I slowly gave it to him. He leaned in and kissed it.
“I hope to see you again Lady Jostany.”
He smiled and jogged down the hill to the carriage.
I’ll never forget that moment: the moment I felt like a lucky, graceful princess in a fairy-tale that I believed was just beginning.
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!Rose Schreiber. Copyright 2017. Not for reproduction or republication.