Engagements and thimbles

The Savoy Hotel stood proudly amongst an array of trees, its rich architecture embracing the buzzing streets. It exuded of opulence and shocking modernity. Good society was always seen in and out of it. Decadent royalty and new money, hid in its vast suits. The Hotel offered the most delicious view of the Thames, which its best costumers prized above all.

Miss Wendy Darling’s rise, had been an everlasting surprise, amongst good society.
A Baron ? An engagement party at the Savoy ? Mamas were whispering, loudly, that she had ensnared the, poor, impressionable Sir Lucas Clifford. How could the daughter of a simple banker, climb so much above her station. Something was amiss. Sure, Mrs Darling had some old blood in her. If whispers were to be believed, she had been the daughter of some Baronet. Even if the union wasn’t entirely approved, all could agree Miss Wendy made up for what she lacked in pedigree by impeccable manners. A great many mamas were envious of her perfect complexion, hazel hair and those clear blue eyes. So in a manner, high society had accepted this incongruous alliance.

What was expected now, was a lavish party. Engagement parties were the backbone of society, of it’s aging victorian traditions. A great opportunity for any promising young woman to, in turn, find love. Or as Aunt Millicent would say, a husband. For the occasion, both Sir Clifford and Mr Darling had spared no expense. Both men remained deaf to Wendy’s pleas for a smaller venue. After all, she had argued, it was only the engagement party. Obviously Aunt Millicent had almost cried out. It was excepted of them.

She had to put up with the uncomfortable charade, now that her family was in deep. Her dress seemed to gleamer in the electrical lightening. The fabric had been adorned with gold stitchings, embroidered along her waist and gracing her neckline. Her hair was pulled tightly in an intricate chignon. Perls had been incrusted in her hairdo, painting her the perfect fiancé. Her white glows embraced her upper arms in tight silk. Wearing any weapon available to a young lady, except for a smile, she stood in the great hall next to her parents.

The Darlings stood side by side, uncomfortably, and were greeting their guests. Sir Clifford was, awkwardly, on the other side of the hall. Not one time had her gaze met his. Not once had they even exchanged niceties. This arrangement was losing it’s appeal at any passing second. She was moving through the motions, like looking her reflection move on it’s own in a mirror. « Smile dear, it is your moment. Try and enjoy it ! » Her aunt said, pulling her attention back to where she was. She tried her best to give a small smile.

Since her engagement, she had been dreaming. Every night, she’d get in her bed, pull her sheets tight against her form. And as soon as sleep would take her, she’d be back in the small cabin. The one made of moss and leaves. For so long she had been alone in her dreams. Yet now, he was always here with her. The man was like poison, lodged deep in her skin. The dreams were getting more… scandalous. He had taken the horrible habit of kissing her. Well, that one happened before. What was more aggravating was the talking. Wendy had never known talking to be so…stimulating.

The dream always started with some light caressing. Feather like kisses along the column of her neck. Teeth tantalizingly scrapping the shell of her ear. His deep voice coaxing her, moaning sweet words. Every night he seemed to get more bold. Last night he had whispered how much he needed her. She almost had given in. Mad with desire, breaths shallow, she almost begged him to just take her, kiss her the right way. She had never felt need like this. Amid this, very, indecent encounter, she had found the strength to ask for his name. To which he had simply laughed, tilting her chin to his mouth. Ghosting her lips with his own, he whispered « Haven’t figured it out yet ? »

At that she had jolted upright on her bed. Eyes swollen with sleep, heart hammering in her chest, she felt the uncomfortable result of her arousal. Shame and frustration were her new companions.
Her cheeks colored slightly and she gripped her gown tighter. How could she be so wanton ? She had to focus.

The evening was progressing as planned. The assembly moved to the ball room. Did someone give a speech ? She hadn’t noticed. Maybe her future husband had. Champagne filled minds and glasses. Music swelled in the large ballroom. The first dance was about to begin. Alright, she thought, pull yourself together. Moving to the center of the room with the crowd, she got ready to dance. Sir Clifford was making his way to her. He offered her his arm. And then the dance started.

« I hope the evening is to your liking ? » Sir Clifford asked, searching for her eyes.

« Of course it is. » Hoping this was enough to shut any more discussions. Brows furrowed, he tilted his head slightly, studying her.

« You don’t seem please, is all. » Discomfort settled in her gut.

« Well, this type of party is overwhelming. But I am pleased. »

Was she convincing ? The words sounded rehearsed even to her own ears.

« You don’t look like the type to enjoy this sort of thing. As we are soon to be married, I’d like to know more about you » This took her by surprise.

« I would like that too Sir. » she said with an honest smile. At least he was willing to communicate.

« So tell me, dear Wendy, what do you enjoy ? »

Wendy considered her answer. She had the impulsion to give him one of her practiced answers. The ones that started with, embroidery and ended with social gatherings. But he wanted honesty, and it was only fair to give him the truth.

« I enjoy reading and… well you’ll think me foolish. » she hesitated some more « I love writing. » there she had said it.

« Writing ? You mean, poetry ? »

« Not poetry, it never appealed to me. I want to write books. » With her head straight, she waited for his reaction. Maybe he would appreciate her for it.

« Miss Wendy, I’m surprised… what exactly are you writing about ? » He looked more uncomfortable now. God only knows why, she simply responded.

« Pirates. » The look on his face could only be described as baffled.

« I mean that I write stories that include adventures. I always loved telling stories to my siblings during our childhood, it simply evolved to writing. »

The music stopped, the dance had ended. She had never dared exposing this to anyone. He didn’t seem to take it well.

« Thank you for sharing this, Miss Wendy. I do hope you realize how this could look like if, my wife were to engage in such activities ? I can only hope you keep this for yourself. »

For once he did not stammer, nor looked shy. Her ego bruised, she retreated to were her parents stood. Shame and something else more akin to anger, rose in her. At least, now it was clear what, this future husband of hers, expected.

Her mother was calling her, concern written over her perfect features. She didn’t stay, she had to get some fresh air. If she didn’t, she might combust. Her feet took her to the balcony. It was abandoned and the sounds form the ballroom were muffled, allowing her to focus on her thoughts.

So her future husband had just chastised her, for something that meant everything to her. It had to be expected. Why was she so distraught about it ? And she hadn’t told him about her published work.
Under the pen name of Jill Redhands, she had published a small collection of short novels. Her work had appeared in the Yellow book, meeting a good reception. Sure it had only been a few stories, and the sums had been ridiculous.

But, under that pen name, she had gained a steady reputation. The secrecy of this activity had been strenuous. Nobody knew about it. She had dealt with the journal by correspondence.

Letters, that thankfully were passed on to her by the staff. Anna had the kindness to bring her letters to her, directly. Most times, dropping them in between her books in her room. This agreement had never been spoken. A silent kindness that had never failed Wendy. But now, in her future home, watched by far more eyes, how will she write ?

Suddenly, her corset felt impossibly tight. Although the damn thing stopped at her breast, she felt it up to her throat. She recognizes the panic searing through her. Fighting tears back, she takes shaky breaths. She’s trapped, she did this. Now, there is nothing to do, but reap what she sowed.

She feels dizzy, like the vice around her had brutally tightened. As she felt her legs give out, something unexpected happened. Strong arms caught her, steadying her. Whipping her head, her gaze landed on a set of deep, green eyes.

Her handsome stranger was now standing close, hands at her waist. So close, she could smell him. Power exuded of him. With a surprising softness, he pushed a wild lock of hair, out of her eyes. Silence stretched between the two. Afraid to shatter this tender moment, she didn’t dare speak. Like in her dreams, she thought. The longing she caught in his eyes, surprised her. Realization was hitting her. She had suspected he was the man from her dreams, but now she was sure.

Blushing, she jerked out of his arms. Clearing her throat, she backed slightly.

« I’m sorry ! » He broke the silence, gaze dropping to the floor. « I didn’t want to scare you. You looked, like you needed… » he broke off. Heat was rolling under her skin.

« What did you think I needed ? » She gritted, standing her ground.

How dare he come mess with her head again. She needed to stay as far as possible from him. That was what she needed.

« Well, you were about to fall, seems it’s a hobby of yours » he continued as he strode toward her. She backed some more, until she hit the solid stone of a pillar.

« Stop this Sir. Please, I am engaged. I’m sure you know this. »

He wasn’t showing signs of remorse as he leaned, closer. His hands came to rest on each sides of her.

« Yes, I heard about this nonsense. I remember specifically saying you’ll never marry him though » his voice dropping down.

« Why do this to us both, sweet Wendy ? » his clever fingers sliding down her throat. « You gave me something Wendy. Years ago, I know you don’t remember. Yet it has tortured me, how I wanted to give it back. » His gaze was set on her lips, like they held a secret only he, could open.

« You speak in riddles again. I wish you’d stop tormenting me. I’m just a woman, trying to do the right thing. » She struggled to speak, for his lips were calling to hers.

« The right thing ? » He growled.

« Yes, right for my family, you wouldn’t understand. You are but a man. » She said attempting to escape his hypnotizing gaze.
« You are right. I am a man - he chuckled - I have you to thank for it. You’ve poisoned my existence. It’s only right you pay for it. » he continued, his gaze turning dark.

« I don’t know what you mean. Please at least give me your name. » she pleaded.

« I know it is you » she said in a breath, almost a whisper. At this he froze.

« I feel like I know you, I see you everywhere, even in my… at night. » She paused to gather her courage.

« You see me too, in dreams, do you not ? »

Goodness she had dared. His eyes softened, and he dropped his head to hers. Forehead on hers, eyes boring into her, his lips pulled in a smile.

« My nights have been full of you, ever since you left me, ten years ago. »

Before she could question further, his mouth met hers.