THE 1, theodore laurence

MAGNIFICENTLY CURSED

MAGNIFICENTLY CURSED, chapter eleven

my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand. taken mine, but it's been promised to another.

   WESTON CHASE WASN'T really a terrible person. In fact, he was so well mannered and kind that it made Scarlett bored. Scarlett fanned herself, as Weston went on about the latest horse he had purchased.

The pair was sitting outside in Weston's garden, having an afternoon tea together. The setting was overall pleasing, surrounded by bushes of vivid orchids and pale buttercups that filled the air with their fragrant perfume.

"Do you have a name for him yet?" asked Scarlett, growing weary of the conversation.

"Pardon?" blinked Weston, confused at being interrupted. His voice was deep, and thick with an English accent.

"Do you have a name for the horse, I meant?"

He chuckled, amused at her question. "Not yet, but I am pondering on the name Abraxas. What do you think?"

"That's a fine name," she approved. She carefully sipped on her tea, and set it back down on the table that was laden with biscuits, scones, jams, and sandwiches.

Weston smiled and nodded. "Abraxas it is then." He paused. "Tell me, are you planning on staying permanently here in England?"

Scarlett politely met his gaze. "I haven't yet decided. I have nothing keeping me anywhere, so I suppose only time can tell."

"But what if..." Weston hesitated. "If something did keep you here, would you be willing to stay? Would it trouble you?"

The sun suddenly felt too warm. Scarlett could see right through his words. She wanted to answer truthfully, and turn him down, but the thought of her grandmother's words echoed in her mind. She didn't want to disappoint anyone.

"Oh, I wouldn't mind it here at all," smiled Scarlett. "As long as I'm able to see my old friends, and live in peace, I think I could be quite happy."

Weston visibly relaxed. He smiled brightly, and said, "That brings me comfort, Scarlett. I'm very fond of you. I think I would be disappointed if you had to leave."

Scarlett twisted her fingers beneath the table. "I'm fond of you as well."

He smiled, and not wanting to appear rude, Scarlett returned it. It was a silent understanding between the two, and Scarlett knew exactly what it meant for her.

"Shall we take a stroll?" proposed Weston, setting down a half eaten berry scone.

Scarlett took one last sip of tea. "By all means."

They strolled in silence for a while, passing through high and low hedges, bushes of peonies and striped carnations. The sight of the flowers made her stomach turn. After studying the symbolism of hundreds of flowers for Meg's wedding, she was more finicky about flowers. Striped carnations meant refusal. Peonies stood for anger. 

Was it an omen?

Weston made them slow to a stop as they stepped into the center of a white gazebo. Vines crawled up the detailed pillars, dotted with red and orange flower buds in different stages of bloom.

Scarlett could feel her throat tightening, her heart pounding, and her blood on fire. It was coming. It was coming and she didn't know how to stop it. Her eyes met Weston's, who was smiling timidly.

"Scarlett Alastair," he began, taking both of her hands. "I have never known someone anyone as charming or beautiful as you."

Her blood froze. The air was knocked from her lungs.

Weston knelt down, revealing a small velvet box that he had been hiding all along. He opened it. "Would you do me the greatest honor? Will you marry me?"

Scarlett's lips trembled. "Yes," she said faintly.

Weston grinned broadly and slipped the ring on her finger. It was a thin band of gold, with three diamonds resting together in a line ― the center one being the largest. It felt odd, cold, and heavy on her finger. He kissed her hand, and rose to his feet. "Shall we share the news?"

She could only nod in her disbelief.

Guiding her back into his home, Weston bowed his head in greeting to Scarlett's grandmother, while Scarlett curtsied deeply to his mother. The two old women caught the sparkle of the ring in a matter of seconds.

"Oh, my darling!" Mrs. Chase shot to her feet and embraced Scarlett tightly. "I knew it would only be a matter of time! Welcome to our family."

"Thank you, ma'am," Scarlett managed to say.

Mrs. Chase smiled approvingly. Scarlett watched as her grandmother slowly rose from her seat. She smiled and nodded at Weston, before facing her granddaughter. "Congratulations, my dear. I know you'll have a blessed life ahead of you."

Scarlett didn't smile at her. She lowered her head, saying, "Thank you, grandmother, for your kind words."

The carriage ride home was in silence. Her grandmother spoke once to say, "Someday, you'll remember what I did for you, girl, and you'll thank me for it. I know you don't see it now, but in your future, you will see all the good I've done for you. You are young, and naive. I am only pushing you into womanhood."

Scarlett didn't speak. She couldn't.

The old lady continued. "You think of me as evil, I know. But all in good time, you'll see."

The carriage rolled to a stop. The driver opened the door for them. Scarlett looked to her grandmother, holding her stare with icy resent. Then she smoothened down the front of her gown and climbed out, not bothering to look back or wait. When she crossed the foyer, her handmaiden rushed to her. "Miss Scarlett, there's a―"

"Not now, Agnes," Scarlett huffed, continuing to briskly walk away. 

Agnes' eyes widened in stress. She followed after Scarlett, pleading, "Miss Scarlett, there's a―"

Scarlett froze in the doorway to the parlor.

"―guest," whispered Agnes, faintly.

"Laurie," stammered Scarlett. She wondered if she was hallucinating.

But he stood there in the center of the room, with a relieved smile on his face. "Red."