Once Upon A [Stolen] Time - [Stolen] Series I

CHAPTER 4

"It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live."

―J.K. Rowling

MYRA
APRIL 2015

After digging through my entire closet and not finding anything suitable to wear to the Bernards' manor, I decided I'd go for the dress Mum had suggested to me earlier. She was right, actually. It did suit me very well. It gave me this elegant, ladylike look, like someone from the early nineteenth century. The dress also came with a matching hat, which added to its sophistication.

Meanwhile, my parents took their time to prepare, I took my time to Google some information about Steve Bernard. If I said he wasn't handsome, I was lying. He was very good looking, and apparently, the UK's most eligible bachelor. Because of his family's reputation and running his own empire, he had been in the limelight for quite a few years in both North American and European media.

When I noticed my mother in her elegant Victorian style lemon-coloured chiffon dress, I came to know the lunch party theme was Victorian. Papa looked as if he was going to call for a carriage in his tailcoat and straw hat. I couldn't believe, in 2015, there were many British families for whom the proper attire took their full attention, even at a Sunday lunch party. The Bernards' female guests still dressed elegantly because that's how Mrs Bernard wanted it. If she had a theme party, your attire must adhere to it. And their manor—amazing!

Since the house was two centuries old, it stole all the prettiest elements from British, Italian, French and other European architecture. You enter the house, and you'd feel like you have stepped into the past century. Mr Bernard's hobby was collecting beautiful paintings from past centuries. The couple was active at art auctions and exhibitions around London. Their house was breathtakingly beautiful, and the only thing that made it worthwhile for me to meet their son Steve was to be allowed in that house.

Yes, I was getting a bit greedy. I liked that house a lot.

We reached the Bernards' manor around 1:00 p.m. There was a huge courtyard just inside the main gate, surrounded by the circular driveway. We dropped off our car, and a chauffeur collected it from the driveway. All the cars were greeted by the valet service, but I couldn't see their parking garage.

We were directed to the rear of the manor. It was a backyard party, but never in my life had I seen a backyard like this. Mrs Bernard had a passion for gardening. She'd planted every pretty flower imaginable in her back garden, and it was remarkably beautiful as if I was inside Claude Monet's painting. I remembered reading in one magazine that their garden had been named the most beautiful garden in Britain last year. I was sure she'd win again this time. It was well deserved.

My parents had been doing business with the Bernards for five years. All Mrs Bernard's tea parties had been hosted by Paula's Café, and her tea parties had always been a venue for the paparazzi, which gave my mother more business.

"Hello...Myra, my child," exclaimed Mrs Bernard, greeting me in a motherly manner as she hugged and kissed me like her own child. In terms of wealth and elegance, if Mrs Crawley from the Downton Abbey series had a face in the real world, it would have been her. "I'm so glad you were able to join us." I could see in her eyes that she genuinely wanted me to like her son.

But where was he? Was my heart glinting with hope?

"It's good to see you too, Mrs Bernard." I returned her smile.

"Oh please, call me Caroline." She held my hands tightly. "Come...I'd like you to meet someone." She dragged me into the crowd. My mother exchanged a glance with Caroline, and it seemed like it was all planned—a typical arranged marriage. Perhaps, I was truly stuck in Jane Austen's novel.