Prologue

4 1 0
                                    

  A crisp autumn day in the outskirts of London, Emily sat in the overly large carriage beside her mother and father. The weather was quite cold, given half the sun cowered behind the huge clouds. Emily's father, Henry, sat tall and quiet beside her, absently dusting off invisible lint from his high-waist pants. He wore a black, tall top hat, one of which Emily found most utterly unnecessary. However, today, she found it most useful, the fact being it blocked most of the sun's rays from blinding her. Her mother sat beside Emily's brother, Emmet.

Emily always found her mother quite beautiful, with her elegant pearl necklace and gold pins. Grace, (her mother's name), had flawless skin, that of a white Christmas. Her hair was a perfect shade of bronde and her eyes as light blue as the sky. Her lips were always a deep red colour, although she never wore any heavy make-up.

Her father was the complete opposite. His hair was a light ginger colour, uncanny to Emily's. His light stubble outlined his chin. His eyes were a deep shade of blue, almost a midnight blue. The collar of his coat was high up his neck, which helped a lot with the cold. Grace's dress was puffy and pink, her hat the same colour.

Emmet was a strong young man. He was a few years older than Emily, five, to be exact. He grew up with astonishingly good morals and he seemed as though he was always happy. His ginger hair glistened in the sunlight, his chiseled jawline clenching tight in the brightness. His eyes were green, and that confused young Emily, given her entire family's eyes were blue. He was a handsome man, many could agree. He treated Emily with respect, much at that. Ever since Emily could remember. He dressed exactly like Henry and even sat like him, too. Emily was proud of the man he grew up to be.

Emily grew irritated with the repeating bumps in the dirt road, but there was nothing she could do. It was only seven in the morning and an estate of a close family friend, called Roseland Manor, was hours away. The family had been on the road for about two hours now, but two hours to Emily was an eternity of slow torture. But she never spoke a word of discomfort, nor complained. She just sat there with her small, thick, paperback book in her hands, savoring every word she read. Her green dress billowed around her, but she kept quiet of her annoyance.

"Dear Lord, Emily! Are you going to read that book all day?" Grace exclaimed. As you can probably tell, Grace was cruel to Emily, but Emily always held her tongue.

"I plan on reading it until the very end," Emily replied, her eyes never straying from the worn page.

"Your mother is right, Emily. You should put the book down and enjoy the lovely view," her father told her.

Emily cast a glance to Emmet, and he gave her the same knowing look. "Very well, then. I will." And with that, she slipped a small piece of paper inside the open page to hold her place, then closed the book gently and placed it upon her lap.

She sighed and turned her attention to the glass window, immediately looking up towards the sky. Emily was always fond of the sky. She claimed it had queer beauties in its matter. Birds, clouds, the sun; what else could be up there? She thought of it as magical when the clouds formed different shapes. She thought of it as a sign from the gods above.

Grace stared straight ahead with her lips pouted. Henry watched out his side of the window as the ground sped by. Emmet simply watched his sister in delight, amazed by how happy she was. He eventually joined her, looking out her window, too.

They both watched a cloud form and said in unison, "Cat!" Then a few seconds passed as another cloud formed. "Monkey!" Then another cloud formed.

However, this cloud was different from the others. It was in an odd shape and it troubled the brother and sister, trying to figure out what it could possibly be. They both stared at the cloud and squinted their eyes, trying to determine the shape.

"Hmm..." Emily thought. "A baby!"

"Really? I think it's a...lobster!" Emmet declared.

Emily giggled and Emmet followed. "A lobster? Good heavens, Emmet! That's most obviously a baby!"

"No. 'Tis not a baby, Emily." He shook his head, still laughing. "No. A lobster!"

And they continued their laughter until-

"Will you please act more mature, Emily? And you Emmet...look at the example you're setting." She scoffed and said to Henry, "These children must be better disciplined, Henry!"

"Settle down, Grace. They're just having some fun," Henry said.

"Fun? Fun is not being obnoxious all the while," Grace mumbled.

Emmet offered Emily an apologetic look, then turned away. "Sorry, mother."

"You should be," Is all she replied. "And Emily? What do you have to say for yourself?"

Emily knew she had every right not to apologize, but it was the more respectful thing to do. Or perhaps, the only thing she could do. "I am sorry, mother."

But Grace didn't say anything more than a snort.

The rest of the trip was silent. Grace rubbed her temples repeatedly, Emmet adjusted his clothing every five seconds, Henry stared ahead, and Emily enjoyed the sites and views. Eventually, she fell asleep, her head bobbing along with the movements of the carriage. They took about three rushed stops throughout the entire thing, mostly to let the horses have a small break. Then, once again, they were back in the carriage and back on the dirt road, continuing their journey. The carriage rocked Emily to sleep again.

About two hours later, Emily was startled awake by the stop of the carriage. She rubbed at her eyes, hoping that would wake her up more, but once her father moved his head, the sunlight broke through and blinded her. She squinted her eyes and jerked her head away, now blocking it with her palm.

"Are we here?" she asked her parents, but only Henry responded.

"Yes, we are." He got out of the carriage, Emmet and Grace following after. Then a young man came to the other side of the carriage to help Emily out.

Once the door opened, her jaw dropped. The man that stood before her with his hand extended was no denying, handsome. His hand was covered by a white glove and he wore a very proper black and white suit. He smiled and his white teeth shone brightly, making him appear more alluring. She smiled back and admired his kindness. She eventually took his hand and he helped her out of the carriage.

She now stood before him and curtsied gracefully. "Thank you, kind sir."

"Of course, madam." He tipped his hat to her and that affected her blushing, making it appear more crimson.

It seemed as if their gazes would never falter, but of course, their moment had to end.

And it ended when the old lady, Ida Rose, appeared from the doorstep of her estate. "Oh, my dear! You've come!" She immediately rushed to Emmet and because of this, Emily always assumed he was secretly her favorite.

Then, Ida Rose ran to Henry, given he was her favorite friend. He chuckled and hugged her back with as much force. She was short and fragile compared to him, but Ida Rose was independent and didn't care what other people thought. She may be around eighty years of age, but her attitude was that of twenty. When she finally released him from the hug, she rushed over to Emily.

"Ah, Emily! How I've missed you!" She wrapped her small, bruised arms around Emily and hugged tightly.

"I've missed you, as well, Ida," Emily strained to reply.

"Grace," Ida Rose said without bothering to even look at her.

"Ida Rose," Grace said back.

"It's a pleasure to see you all here!" She motioned to the estate behind her. "Welcome to the Roseland Manor!"

The Heir's WifeWhere stories live. Discover now