The Unlikely Queens

Chapter 1

"When was the last time you danced?" Johanna, my ex sister-in-law, asks me as I cut flowers from my parents' garden.

"My wedding." I hand Johanna a daisy, squinting against the April sun. The sky is so vividly blue I can't believe it's real.

"We should go to court. Doesn't that sound like fun?" She sniffs the flower and twirls it between her fingers.

"Court?" I repeat, "Does your husband want to go?"

"He'll go," Johanna says with certainty, "It's just a matter of telling him. I hear the king is holding a lot of dances."

I give an indifferent shrug, "I suppose it could be fun. But I'm not going to dance."

"Wonderful," Johanna sniffs her flower, "We'll leave for court in two days."

I get up and brush the dirt off my dress, gathering the daisies in a neat bundle.

"And I'll make sure Albert doesn't tell George."
She assures me.

"Thank you." I squeeze her arm and go around the house to the open kitchen door.

Albert, the 6th Baron of Pelham, is Johanna's husband. And I used to be married to his brother George. He had our marriage annulled year ago on the grounds that I was not a virgin on our wedding night.

Which could not be further from the truth.

George Warrington and I met five years ago when we both were sent by our families to be members of the household of the Dowager Duchess of Lyndell. Her husband was killed in a gruesome war long before either George and I's time.

We were both nineteen, long past the marrying age according to my mother and father. When they heard that George would also be apart of the Duchess's household they eagerly began trying to negotiate a marriage between us.

We both arrived at the Duchess's small castle on a terribly rainy day. I was soaked through to the insides of my shoes and George looked as through he had jumped into a lake. We barely spoke as a page boy showed us to our rooms and we unpacked our belongings. Our rooms were straight across from one another, so we could see each other very clearly.

I watched him as he unlocked his trunks and wardrobe, folding his clothes into neat squares and putting them away carefully. George was very handsome in my opinion. He was tall, but not so tall he was awkward. He had short brown hair that was still dripping wet onto the creaky wooden floors. His profile was very gentle and pleasing to look at. I didn't know if he happened to glance at me when I looked away, but I'm sure he thinking how unclean and truly raggedy I looked. My shoes were so wet I had to take them off and I was walking around barefoot, my hair was damp and frizzy from the rain, and my feet weren't exactly the cleanest at the moment. After we changed out of our damp clothing we had to report to the Duchess for our assignments.

We walked side by side to her sitting room, neither of us saying a word. I wondered then if he knew about the negotiations of our potential marriage.

When I think back on it, I realize how much he was trying not to look at me or touch me. He was very controlled then, much like he was during our marriage.

But right that moment, I hoped I looked as wonderful as possible. I had brushed and brushed my long medium brown hair until the frizziness was gone and put on my favorite green wool dress with my best tan smock.

The Duchess was sitting in front of her fireplace, reading when we entered. She beckoned us over and we stood beside her.

The Duchess was an older woman, around sixty years of age. She had long silver hair that was bundled up on top of her head in an elegant bun. Anyone could tell she used to be a great beauty. She was beautiful when I met her, although I'm sure when she was younger she was breathtaking. She had a petite nose and clear blue almond shaped eyes. Her mouth was soft and full. The Duchess had small wrinkles in the corners of her eyes and mouth, which I believed made her seem more kind and warm.

She placed her cross necklace in the spine of her book and turned toward us.

"Hello," She smiled and bowed her head to us politely, "You may address me as Duchess Eleanor or Your Grace. What might I call you?"

"I am Cecelia, Your Grace." I gave a small curtsy.

"And I am George, Your Grace." Hearing George's voice startled me. It was deeper than I imagined, stronger.

"Aren't you just beautiful?" Duchess Eleanor smiled at me.

"Thank you, Duchess Eleanor." I smiled timidly.

"Well," She slowly stood. She was almost as tall as George, "Your duties will be simple. Cecelia, you will be one of my ladies. You will bring me tea, stand by during my meals unless I ask you to join me, and accompany me whenever I request you to."

"Yes, Your Grace." I nodded.

"And George, you will my private secretary. You will announce guests and arrange my excursions and visits. Any questions?"

We both shook our heads and she dismissed us. We walked back to our rooms in silence.

Before George went into his room, he turned and looked at me.

"My mother and father wish for me to write to them and tell them how I find you," He said bluntly, "I assume you know our parents are discussing a marriage between you and I."

"Yes, I know." I nodded.

George simply looked at me as if he was trying to find an answer in my face. I felt so much on display at the moment, like George was examining every imperfection on my body.

"Well, goodnight. Cecelia." He mumbled.

"Goodnight, George." I said back before going into my room and shutting the door.

I remember loving the way my name sounded on his tongue. I repeated it in my mind as I prepared for bed and again as I fell into a peaceful sleep.

~

The next months were spent serving the Duchess and getting better acquainted with George.

After I would serve Duchess Eleanor her morning tea and ensure she was comfortable in the sitting room, George and I would eat breakfast together in the kitchen. We would sit across from each other in silence, but comforting silence. Usually, I was troubled by long silences between people.

George made it natural, almost made it better than trying to make conversation.

Prayer would follow breakfast. George, the Duchess, and I would go to Duchess Eleanor's very own private alter and kneel before the huge gold cross.

Servants lit tall candles around the room, Jesus's form illuminated in the middle of the cross.

"I can tell you two are children of God," Duchess Eleanor said to us once, "That's why it is important you both pray with me. I can see in your hearts you are honest, good people."

When she said this, George lifted his head and gazed directly into my eyes. I stared back, didn't dare look away.

Then, George smiled at me. A warm, brief smile.

And I smiled back because nothing had ever felt so good.