Perfect to the Tea

“Why do I have to go?” I moaned to my irked mother, jerking on my violet cloak. “Auntie Peppie freaks me out.  Don’t you think it odd that she is asking for me now?”  Shaking her gray head of petite ringlets tied in a tight bun, her slightly wrinkled shoving me out of the old creaky door.  In a flash of blue silk, the door was slammed shut.  Clearing my throat, my worn brown boots clicked against the cobblestone road twisting to my auntie’s.  The afternoon sun burned down on my long wavy brown hair, blinding my copper eyes.  People in large full skirts and black tuxedos bustled around me, my slender fingers gripping the handle of my dark woven basket tighter.  A worn green wagon halted to a stop, soaking the bottom of my purple silk dress.  An ancient old man hopped down rather youthfully for his age, and bowed.  

“Your wagon awaits, Miss Scarlett.” He announced, opening the heavy door. “She eagerly awaits you.”  Smiling warmly, I squeezed my big skirt through the impossibly small door.  Darkness covered me, the door slamming shut.  A sharp crack entered the busy stinky air, the whip striking the horse’s behind.  Soon, it’s hooves clipped and clopped to a black Victorian mansion at the edge of town.  Pain shot through my face, smacking against the hard harsh walls as the horse stopped suddenly.  Panic ran rapidly through my mind, the pastries my mother had worked ever so hard to make were scattered on the floor.  On my hands and knees, my delicate fingers tossed every single one into the basket.  A lump in my throat formed, the door swinging open to my stern aunt tapping her left foot tempestuously.  Her black silk shimmered in the morning sun, a black feather hat flopping about.  

“Is that how a lady sits in a carriage?” She groaned, rubbing her forehead. “Where is your hat?  Everyone knows a true lady wears a hat.”  Rolling my eyes, I leapt out of the wagon, and  smoothed my dress.  In my left hand,  the basket passed to an anxious servant waiting by her side.  Hell even her servants were perfect, not a single piece of blond hair out of place.  Not a bit of dust rested on her uniform.  

“I forgot it.” I admitted sheepishly, attempting to hold my tongue. “At least I am not the world’s most hated aunt.”  Hatred and pure fire blazed in her copper eyes, her lips parting to speak.  Childlike joy fluttered in my anxious heart, a smirk curling on my lips.  It was about time some stood up to her.  

“Well, I never!” She exclaimed, raising her hand to my cheek.  A loud slap erupted around us, sharp agony biting at my cheek.  Stepping back, my boots clacked against the cobblestone road.  Her mansion was getting smaller behind me, a guard stepping in my way.  

“She is indeed curt, but ladies don’t have such a sharp tongue.” A gruff voice called out behind the red suited guard. “That tongue is so sharp it could cut through the thickest piece of metal. I like it.”   My heart stopped beating as a tall handsome man stepped forward. His blue jacket hugged his muscular torso, tight black pants covered his legs.  His green eyes glistened excitedly, his strong hand running through his long wavy black hair.  A glint of silver caught my eyes, giving me something else to look at.  

“I am sorry.” I stammered, tumbling to the dirty street. “I will go and apologize to her right now.”  Chuckling to himself, a crooked grin danced across his face.  My face flushed scarlet red, my aunt stopping shortly behind me.  Anger and disappointment flashed in her eyes, a scowl permanently forming on her thin pressed lips.  One hair lay out of line, her tongue threatening to unleash some fresh hell on me.  

“I will take her hand.” He announced cheerfully, pulling me up. “That is if she will take my heart.  She instantly placed me under her smell.”  My aunt pulled me away from him, tossing me to the ground.  My cousins came rushing out in their garish off colored dresses, cooing all over him.

“She is not an option.” She growled, fury boiling in my veins. “They are your options.  She is barely in the realm of royalty.  Besides, she is hardly a lady.”  Rolling my eyes, my feet struggled to stand.  Dismay washed over me, my dress and cloak were filthy.  Yesterday’s mud coated my face, hot tears forming.  

“It is my choice not yours.” He chided coolly, pushing my cousins away. “You deserved her sharp tongue.  Let’s go have tea somewhere else.” His hand hovered in my face, a kind smile warming his face.  He pulled me into the most ornate carriage, and blew a whistle.  The two black horses hurried off, leaving a very steamed family behind me.  Salty tears flooded from my eyes, my mind wanting to scream.  

“I am sorry about everything.” I wept uncontrollably, my face buried in my palms. “I am such a failure and not worth anything.  My mother hates me too.  She blames me for my father’s death, something she never allowed me to grieve.”  Golden silk wiped the mud off of my face, two black gloved hands lifting my chin.  

“You are worth something my dear.” He mused, gazing into my eyes. “You are the first honest person that I have ever met.  You are the fresh breath of air that my life needed.  Besides little known secrets, I hate hats.”  Laughter exploded between weeps and a brilliant grin illuminated curled on my lips.  

“Why me?” I queried, playing with my hair. “I am just a baker’s daughter.”  Shaking his head, a soft chuckle tumbled from his kissable lips.  Confusion twisted my features, only growing paler than before. 

“Your father was a lord, but he gave it all up for your mother, silly.” He explained gently, sitting back in his plush red silk seat. “He was assassinated by your aunt to cut you guys out of the line to your castle.”  Wonder filled my eyes, a mixture of sadness and anger forming in my mind.  Did she invite me to murder me?  More importantly, did my mother join in on her plan?  

“If what you are saying is true then, I should be dead by now.” I pondered out loud, placing my hand on my chin.  His eyes might as well have been daggers, for they glowered out past the flashing mixtures of gray and brown.  

“Yes.” He answered certainly, intertwining his fingers with mine. “I could not let my betrothed die.  What kind of fiance would I be?”  My cheeks flushed bright red, sheepishly looking out the window.  Pounding out of my chest, my heart was shouting with joy.  His face was inches from mine, his heart beating louder than mine.  His lips pressed against mine hungrily, pulling back uncertainty flitting in his eyes.  Time melted away, leaving just us.   

“Okay.” I started while looking into his eyes. “I will take your hands, on one condition.”  Unbridled happiness brightened his eyes, a large smile dancing across his lips.  Eagerness would have been the very definition of him.  

“What is that my dear?” He asked out of disbelief. “It can be anything.”  Sighing deeply, my heart skipped a beat.  

“You bring no charges against anyone.” I blurted out, waiting for his reaction. “Please leave them alone.”  His eyebrow cocked suspiciously, his hands ripping out of mine.  Confusion twisted his face, a frown dimming his face.  

“Why is that my dear?” He questioned, crossing his arms. “They attempted to kill you.  They can not go unpunished.”  Biting my lip, a small smile spread across my face.  

“How about they get stripped of their titles, then?” I pleaded, shrugging my shoulders. “That is a solid middle ground.”  Nodding he plopped down next to me, wrapping his arms around my waist.  A warm fuzzy feeling filled me up, the sun setting outside of our windows.  Tomorrow will be a new day.