Narratio: a compilation of short stories

#4

London, England

December 1857

I didn't recognise the man waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. I could tell he was well muscled even trough his dark blue jacket. His blonde hair was tied into a ponytail that suited his physique.

I descended the stairs towards him as my father told him I'd come.

He turned to look at me and my heart stopped beating. His face was perfectly chiselled with high cheekbones and light skin along with a well defined jaw.

But that was not the cause of my surprise. The real culprit for that were his eyes. I'd recognise those amber eyes anywhere. "Eric" I whispered his name as I tripped on the last stair and his arms caught me in them.

ERIC

She fell into my arms, whispering my name as I saved her from falling. I couldn't wait to tell her how my journey to India had been. What all I'd been willing to do for her, for who I wanted to propose to soon. For amoureux, my beloved.

She looked at me, her eyes showing surprise.

"How are you, Darling?" I asked.

She pushed me away.

"How. Dare. You?" she hissed.

Puzzled at this sudden change in her behaviour, I wondered what it was that had made her react in such a way.

"You send me no letters for months, don't reply to the ones I send you and now you just barge in expecting a hearty welcome! Just who do you think I am? I thought you didn't survive Eric! Do you have any idea how miserable you made me, You Douche bag??!"

When I finally understood the root of her anger, I wanted to laugh. But I knew it would hurt her feelings so I didn't. Instead, I pulled her closer, her body shaking with rage.

"Look at me Emma." I said gently, "I didn't write to you because I was already on my way to England. I wanted it to be a surprise to you that I was coming. I definitely remember the promise I made to you and I intend on keeping it." I replied.

I looked at her father for permission and when he nodded, took Emma by the arm and led her to the adjacent salon.

"I'm sorry, Darling. I didn't intend to make you worried."

"How could I not worry, Eric? Tell me, when there is a revolt going on in India and you are a general, of course I'll worry if you don't send me letters."

"I'm sorry" I said, "Let me make it up to you? A walk tomorrow?"

She obstinately crossed her arms.

"Please" I begged, "My Darling Emma, please let me do this?"

"Fine!" she huffed.

I smiled.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow at noon"

She nodded, leaving.

It was clear she was trying to stay angry at me although she wanted to forgive me. She would come around, especially when I presented the gift the next day.

Emma

He was so handsome... He'd grown in the two years we'd been apart. I'd waited for him, although I was already almost a spinster, I still wanted him, and no one else. My heart was his.

But I was still angry. He'd driven me mad with sorrow. I'd been certain he was dead! I though I'd never see him again...

So when he picked me up the next day, I sat opposite him in the carriage, refusing to look at him or talk to him.

He chuckled.

The carriage dropped us off in the Royal Gardens, where most nobles spent their afternoons. This was a gossip market for who's here with whom. I was sure that by the evening, everyone would think we were courting.

Eric took me to the centre of the Maze in the gardens.

It was a picturesque spot, I had to admit.

A bench, in front of a beautiful fountain, with flowering bushes and shrubs all around the grove, it looked like something right out of a fairy-tale.

Eric led me to the bench and we sat down, observing the fountain. He seemed to be nervous about something, I couldn't figure out what.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" He nodded towards the fountain.

I observed its architecture as I said, "Yeah"

"Just like you" Eric mumbled, and I noticed he was in front of me, down on one knee.

"Emma Canterbury," he said, "You are the woman who holds my heart in your petite, gloved hands. Your tinkling laugh sounds like a million bells going off and your melodious voice reminds me of angels singing. The first time I laid my eyes on you, I knew you were something special, I am glad I get to know this amazing woman. I love you, darling, and today, on the anniversary of our debut, I ask you to marry me."

A smile so wide it hurts my cheeks, breaks out on my face. Warmth fills me from the toe. I can barely breathe due to happiness.

"Yes, Ohmigod, Yes, Eric, of course I'll marry you!"

That night, we attended the ball at Almac's together. The diamond ring on my finger announced to all that I was engaged and I knew there would be nasty rumours about, but I didn't care.

That night, Eric was mine and I was his.

He came over the next morning to figure out our marriage arrangements with dad.

Once done, he came to talk to me.

"I'm sorry Emma." Was the first thing he said.

My heart immediately sped up in fear. I wondered if was going to cancel our engagement. I would personally see to it that he died, if so.

"I'm going back" He said.

"What?"

"They need more soldiers, Em, and I have been called to help"

"Don't go"

"I have to" was his reply.

"Take me with you, then"

"No."

"Yes, Eric, I want to come. We'll marry and then leave."

"No."

"Take. Me. Eric"

"NO! That's FINAL"

"ERIC TAKE. ME. WITH. YOU!"

"NO EMMA"

We were both standing on our toes, faces inches apart as we shouted. Our first argument and it had only been a day. But I couldn't let him leave, not when I might lose him. Not without me.

"Eric."

"Emma."

"Why? Why won't you do this?"

"I can't lose you..." he said, his forehead resting on mine.

"Neither can I, Eric."

"NO! You're not coming and that's final!"

"Eric-"

"Please Em"

I frowned.

"Sweetheart, I promise I'll be back before you know it."

I nodded.

He brought his hand to the back of my neck, slowly tilting it so that I was looking into his eyes.

When I didn't object, he came closer, his lips on mine.

The kiss started out slow and sensual, but slowly deepened into a hungry one. I put my hands into his golden locks, pulling apart the ribbon that tied the ponytail, clutching them so as not to fall.

"I love you" I said.

"I love you too, darling."

We married a week later.

He left the next day.

And he never came back.