The Allure Of Love (Sample)

Chapter 1

 Chapter 1

Elizabeth’s POV

Stale laughter rose up the staircase and floated into my ears. My mother’s sewing circle no doubt would be engaging in mindless chatter about the weather and incompetence of slaves. They would be expecting an appearance from me at any moment now.

I was my mother’s greatest asset. I had been groomed from birth to be the picture of perfection. I lived in a society where your marital status defined you and your good name enveloped you. I of which possessed the latter.

The thought of my mother nervously glancing towards the stairwell made me giggle deviously. My sense of duty that I was unable to rid myself of made me rise from my bed and freshen myself. I took in my appearance.

I possessed light blue eyes, golden hair swept up high on my head and a heart shaped face. My alabaster complexion was fit for a goddess herself. It seemed lines of anxiety and anguish had replaced my carefree girlish features, but beauty was still extremely evident.

At least that is what many continue to tell me. Unfortunately, the powder couldn't completely stifle the redness that the crying had brought forth. I chose a simple but elegant blush colored gown. I would have worn a burlap sack due to the mood I possessed. I resented these gowns for their weight and restrictive qualities.

As I walked down the stairwell I pondered over how foolish my life was. People choose to buy things they don’t need, with money they don’t have to impress foolish people they don’t like. We were all mindless creatures allowing ourselves to be easily swayed from one item to the next, doing whatever we could to impress and be impressed.

I scoffed at the grand Persian rugs we had mulled over for days. Did they ever bring me happiness? The grand paintings that filled our parlor mocked me with their eyes and demeaning expressions. Simply stated these were just things, lifeless things that mean nothing.

Appearances and parties didn't mean anything anymore. A year ago I would have figured myself mad for thinking such thoughts, but a lot has changed this past year. I have grown and changed. The two most dangerous words for a well bred girl of high society.

I entered the parlor, like I had so many times before. The same music I had heard for years was softly played in the background. I took my seat next to the window. The women quieted. It seemed my presence had a melancholy affect on all. 

"Elizabeth.....Elizabeth.” My mother hissed, causing curious glances from the other women. "Miss Clementine wishes to know where you purchased that lovely lace.” I broke my gaze away from the window and the beautiful day that seemed to continue on without me. My eyes met the raised eyebrows of the other ladies, obviously awaiting my reply.

"I sent for it from Paris;" I said plainly, and returned my gaze to the world outside that didn’t consist of such absurdities. I longingly stared at the swaying willow tree and poppies that beckoned me to come enjoy the shade and comfort they provided, rather than subject myself to this nonsense. My mother murmured excuses for my odd behavior. I suppose she felt better doing this, even though everyone already knew my plight.

"She is most tired from the wedding and all the planning she has had to do."

The other ladies sighed in agreement, and returned to their work. This is how it would go on. Pretend nothing occurred; don’t speak of it; that is what well bred women do. They just ignore every feeling, emotion, and uncomfortable occurrence. I heard their chatter, but I felt distant. It was if I was watching myself from a far. Or perhaps I was in a horrid dream, where you cannot run nor cry out. I was trapped in a cage filled with sewing, parties, and ball gowns.