E is for Elena

9 The English Rose and Her Thorn

The next morning I found myself pacing on the floor of my bedroom, the skirts of my blush gown swirling around my ankles as I turned here and there. I shook my head, muttering to myself as locks of long blonde hair fell into my vision.

"He's Alexander's oldest friend," I was reminding myself for the hundredth time since what had happened the night before in the gardens. "You've known him since you were a child. Your parents practically raised him along side you. And you've never thought of him this way before. Why now?"

But I knew why now. When Nathaniel and Alexander had left for school, they were children, I was a child. When they'd finally returned, though, a lot had changed. I wasn't a little girl anymore trailing after them while they went to climb trees or throw apples at one another in the orchards. I wasn't Alexander's shadow, breaking up all their games by crying about the mud on my dress. I'd matured a lot while they were gone. Being the only child around for my mother to torment had made sure of that.

At first, I'd wanted to go to school like Alexander, begged to, in fact. So much so that my father had to sit me down and finally explain why I could not attend an institution of higher learning myself and that my efforts would be better and more wisely spent seeking to secure a husband for myself. I'd grown bitter after that discussion, cynical even. If all I ever was to be was a pretty face for some man to come home to at night, I didn't see much point in any of it. I became reclusive, pulling away from society, turning instead to my father's own study. His correspondences, his books, his maps all taught me far more of the world than polite conversations over tea could ever hope to. And I wanted to know more. I always wanted to know more.

As I gained knowledge, I became insufferable company. My banter was not received well in mixed company. When I was with women, I tired of their tedium. When I was with men, I became overexcited in my search for information. In short, no one wanted to be around me. My mother raged at me after every social event. Why couldn't I be like the other girls? Why couldn't I just be normal? The answer was simple, though I'd never tell her what it was. I just didn't want to.

I didn't want to be normal, I didn't want to be like all the others. Where was the fun in that? Where was the adventure? And Nathaniel was the first and only man I'd ever met who hadn't balked at that. He seemed proud of my fierce independence rather than annoyed. He seemed amused by and interested in my penchant for debate rather than repulsed. He was in awe of my intellect rather than threatened by it. No other man, no matter how high the title or great the wealth, could even compare.

He's not one of us, Elena.

That was for sure. And that's why I wanted him.

Suddenly, I knew precisely what needed done. Staying up here in my room, pacing back and forth, considering my options, wasn't doing me any good. I had to talk to him. I had to speak with the man himself before I could make any decisions. He needed to know how I felt, once and for all. So I wrenched open the door and headed for the stairs, wondering whether he would be with Alexander in his new office downtown or elsewhere along the way.

But I froze as I came upon the door to the dining room. It was open which was odd in itself for this time of day. Breakfast had been served and enjoyed and lunch wouldn't be for hours yet. Typically, the serving staff kept the doors closed during any time that wasn't a meal time. But they stood open and I heard hushed voices within. I approached cautiously and peered around the corner to see my mother sitting at the head of the table, leaning over and speaking to Anne in a whisper, her hand laid gently on Anne's arm. Anne was staring sullenly at the table but was nodding along with whatever my mother was saying.

"What's this?" I asked into the open room. Anne jumped at the sound of my voice, whirling around wide-eyed to face me. My mother simply looked at me, as calm and serene as ever when in the midst of company.