I BURN FOR YOU | PART ONE
Simon’s heavy footsteps echo in your ears, the floor boards of the church creaking as he walked. At least he was courteous enough to help you into the carriage, you thought as you grabbed onto his large glove covered outstretched hand letting him guide you inside before getting in himself and sitting on the plump cushion seating opposite you.
The footman closed the door just as your families came out to throw flower petals and wave you off. The sight of them so happy made you more glum than this whole day had.
“Well that was a dreadfully boring ceremony.” Simon quipped, leaning his head back as the carriage started moving. Your gaze did not move from your parents, their smiles made you grimace.
“It’s rather sad that I couldn’t be entertained at my own wedding. Wouldn’t you agree wife?” The man across from you had almost snarled out the word wife.
You simply roll your eyes at him, something he does not take kindly to.
“If I had been in the country when this was all being arranged, I could’ve stopped this from ever happening in the first place. I wouldn’t be shackled down in this ridiculous sham of a marriage!” He snaps, the scar on his chin that goes right through his lips and stops at his Cupids bow, moves with each word he spits your way, fire in his eyes as he does so.
“Trust me the feelings mutual.” You scoff, snapping back at him.
“Oh, I’m well aware wife. I could tell as much as soon as I lifted your veil and saw the scowl on your face.” He chuckles with no humour, it’s dark and unnerving causing you to shift in your seat. “How fortunate I am to have such a beautiful bride” The sarcasm drips from his lips in a way that makes your blood boil but you manage to bite your tongue even if he seems unable to.
“Even when he’s dead, my bastard father still finds ways to meddle in my life. Arranging a marriage behind my back, of all things.” The leather of his gloves squeak when his fists tighten in anger.
“Well, it’s no matter. As long as we pretend for the next three months, we shall be free to live our lives separately once the London Season ends, per our families’ agreement. It should not be too difficult to accomplish such a task, will it wife?” Simon raises an eyebrow but yet somehow manages to keep the scowl on his face.
“No. Husband.” You say through gritted teeth.
He is thankfully silent for the next half an hour, and again he does help you out of the carriage when you arrive outside the manor that is now your home. You gaze up at the structure with awe, it was much bigger than your old home though your father was a Baron and Simon was a Duke.
“I’m leaving the grand tour of the estate to the housekeeper. Oh and do try to remember where everything is, I won’t be walking you to your bedroom each night, wife.” He says briskly as he walks passed you and ascends the stairs.
He pauses, snapping his fingers like he’s forgotten something before shooting over his shoulder at you, “Sleep well, dear wife. I do so look forward to seeing what excitement our marriage brings. I’ll see you bright and early for breakfast tomorrow!” He hollers back at you and so swiftly disappears inside.
“Not on your life.” You mumble to yourself, scoffing at his audacity. “What an insensitive, intolerable arse.” You sigh sitting down on the steps of your new home. You gaze out at the beautiful gardens. The night sky full of stars and a chill had set in, a sign that winter wasn’t far away.
“Excuse me Your Grace.” Looking up from where you had been admiring the patch of red tulips off to your right, you met eyes with a welcome smile.
“I am Johnny, the housekeeper. I run the house and keep all the staff in check. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Duchess.” You smile softly at him and with his help you stand from where you were on the cold steps.
“The pleasure is mine Johnny. I didn’t think there would be a kind soul here given the master of the house but it appears I am mistaken.” Johnny coughs to cover up his laugh but his smile remains.
“Allow me to escort you to your room, Your Grace, you must be exhausted after the day you’ve had.” His Scottish accent soothed you as he held his arm out for you to take. Hooking your arm with his, you let Johnny guide you inside the manor. The decor and architecture was pleasant on the eyes and by the looks of it very expensive.
Johnny leads you up the grand staircase and into the west wing where he pushed open a cream coloured door to reveal your bedroom. The room was large and painted a dark blue, the four poster bed was the biggest bed you’d ever seen in your life. The fireplace opposite the bed was lit, the wood burning nicely and crackling away creating a lovely atmosphere.
Further in just after the bed were two reading chairs facing the large window, you gaze out of it seeing the very same garden you were looking at before. Except the red tulips were right below you and from here you could see the large pond and the stables.
“Through there are your belongings.” Johnny said, pointing to the door just to the right of the bed, behind you. You had quite forgotten he was there but managed not to show how you flinched at his voice.
You nodded, “I can dress myself for bed, please do not disturb the maids. I wish to sleep now.” You communicated trying to sound as soft as you could.
“Of course Your Grace, I bid you goodnight.” Johnny bowed and left the room, closing the door behind him leaving you all alone. You’re just glad it wasn’t dark in your room. Getting changed out of your layered wedding dress and into your nightdress was a task and a half but you feel accomplished as you crawled into the large bed and snuggled down for sleep.
You are woken up bright and early just as your husband had said. Your maids got you bathed, dressed, and downstairs for breakfast in record time.
Your husband was already inside the dining room, a newspaper in his hand and a cup of tea in the other. He acknowledged you with a good morning but you only nodded back to him and sat down in your seat at the other end of the long, seats fourteen, table. Opposite one another, yet so far away.
A layer of awkwardness settled upon the moment with cutlery scratching against plates, and glasses clinking with the table being the only thing that was heard. Even the servents glanced at each other nervously, the atmosphere tense.
Simon couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to you. You hadn’t said a word this morning, you had a sharp scowl on your face, even the way you buttered your toast was harsh.
“You’re awfully quiet.” He tested the waters, but again you said nothing. Only responding with a nod. “Last night you spoke to me. Or is it that you prefer to mutter things to yourself? What was it you called me again? An insensitive, intolerable arse” he laughed, it was small but held such amusement.
“I must admit, I have never heard such crass language leave a proper young lady’s mouth before.” That makes you pause as you’re about to cut into a sausage, he’d heard you bad mouthing him.
Your cheeks warm with slight embarrassment but Your glare is enough to get him to change the subject, “You’ve hardly eaten your breakfast. Is the food not to your liking? Do I need to have the chef prepare another meal for you?’ At this you shake your head no but that only frustrates Simon even more. “Then might I ask if there is something troubling you?” He tries, eyes holding a curiosity that makes you want to curl in on yourself and hide.
“No” You state.
And that’s it. That’s how it continues for the next two weeks of your marriage. Where other newlyweds would be rolling around together in bed in newly wed bliss. You are avoiding your husband and barely speaking to him during meal times something he is more than happy to point out.
Simon snaps one evening after asking you once more if something is the matter, to which you responded, “What’s it to you?” He most certainly does not take kindly to your attitude.
“Well forgive me if my curiosity is somewhat piqued. You are quite talented at making yourself scarce, so I apologize if my inquiry as to what my wife is thinking is a step over your boundaries!” He slams his knife and fork down on the wooden table.
There is a pause where it seems like the whole world is silent. You stare at your husband, watching closely as he tries to calm down from his outburst. Once he takes his fourth deep breath you decide to speak.
“Do you even care?”
Simon lets out a cold laugh at your question, “Out.” He commands to the servents, they make themselves scarce, the doors shutting behind them.
“Whether I ‘even care’ or not is irrelevant. Like it or not, we are husband and wife. And for the next three months, we must at least look like it.”
“Why should that matter here?” You roll your eyes placing your knife and fork down, though much more gently than Simon did.
“You are truly ignorant if you think we don’t have to pretend even within the confines of this estate. Servants have eyes. And ears. And we have little control over what they choose to share with those outside of this household. I have no doubt word of the state of our marriage has already reached London and spread throughout the Ton.” Simon stands, his chair scratching against the floor as he does. His heavy footsteps make the floorboards creak and it reminds you of your wedding day.
“This is truly disastrous.” Simon says bitterly as he pours himself a drink of amber liquid from one of the many crystal bottles on the side table.
“I’m not exactly having the best time of my life here with you either.” You sit back in your chair, folding your arms over your chest. Defensive and detached.
“Oh I’m well aware, you don’t exactly hide your distaste for me well, and I would be lying if I said the feelings were not the slightest bit mutual. But it would be wise to at least learn to tolerate each other’s presence.” He barks irritatedly swirling the amber liquid around in his glass before knocking it back. The glass is finished in one big gulp, it leads him to pour another before returning to his seat.
“Now with all that settled, I would very much appreciate it if you could cooperate with me in our little endeavor, dear wife.” Simon does what you think is a smile but you’re unsure. It looks more like a vicious dog baring its teeth to you in warning before it bites.
A few moments of silence between the two of you. You didn’t want this. A loveless marriage with a man who had absolutely zero interest in you. At least he wasn’t beating you though, or worse. Your brain pushes those thoughts aside and pushes you to think about what could have been instead.
It makes your heart ache and your eyes well up with tears. The last thing you want to do is cry in front of Simon. You abruptly push your chair back and storm out of the room, slamming the door behind you as you leave.
You’re panting by the time you get to your room, the tears pouring down your face as you heave. You’re on your knees before you know it, sobbing into your hands. The world moves on around you while you cry and pray for a different life. That this is all a dream and you’ll wake up soon in your old house with your old life before your parents decided to give you to this man.
You manage to pull yourself onto your bed where you cry yourself to sleep.
The rain was coming down hard now you noticed, a simple contrast compared to how it drizzled when you had woken up. Well, more like forced awake. The nightmare still fresh in your mind, a life you’d never have, your husband with other women. A loveless marriage and a baron home.
Your nose was blocked and your eyes puffy and sore from your melt down earlier. You washed your face and changed into your white nightgown and dark red robe before lighting a candle and making your way to the library.
The library, you could live and die happily in here. It was full of all your favourites and you always left the room with a smile on your face. A hard contrast to how you had left your bedroom earlier this evening.
You were so immersed in reading when Belle begins to fall in love with the beast that you didn’t even hear the library door slowly creak open.
To be continued…
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