White Gate Heart

• Chapter Seventeen •

So began the exquisite forms of anticipation as the ball rapidly approached in its time. With each chime of the clock came a new wave of discovered excitement for the future.

My stomach clenched in waves of anxiety and my hands clasped together with perspiration. The rugged rhythm of the carriage did no aid to my rolling stomach as the horses clunked along the gravel road. Our party was silent as the journey pursued. Lydia and I exchanged smirks as we heard the low mutter of people upon streets. Father cleared his throat and seemed to straighten himself, attempting to rectify the wrinkles in his frock. Without any justice to it, his lips turned into a frustrated thin line and he huffed at his appearance. It seemed as if Father was more willing to impress than Lydia and I.

The carriage came to a screeching halt and my eyes widened at the sudden realization of our location. The ball was only tomorrow, yet all our nerves were on edge. We had never ventured out of the little village of our heart's comfort. Nestled in the small countryside where horses were pleased to wander far and wide over the rolling hills, I was overwhelmed to set my eyes upon a crowded street and towering brick buildings where man and creature walked shoulder to shoulder.

Scents of a nearby bakery or tavern wafted its way into my nose and I inhaled deeply with a smile. Rich hints of freshly made nut bread blended with beef stew were overpowering and I felt my eyes shutting with each intaken breath. Lydia descended after myself, taking in her settings with more admiration than I.

Shouts and cries of men and women rang throughout the street's walls and the coach was forced to move within a matter of our leave in its seats. Scrambling our way to the left side of the street, we resorted to walking towards the nearby inn. It's welcoming open doors blew gently in the afternoon breeze and it was all I could do to hold myself back from sprinting towards the less crowded building.

Pushing our way gently through the cobblestone street, we were relieved to arrive upon the wooden steps of the humble sized inn. No words were exchanged upon us three as we ascended the steps and silently paid for our rooms. Lydia and I would share one bed and Father would reside in a separate room for himself. The small load we had of luggage was carried upstairs and Father turned toward us to speak silently on the side of the hallway.

"I know that this is a rare occasion for all of us, but I'm allowing you two to explore the streets as long as you return to your rooms before supper. We'll all eat at the tavern across the street. Break my rules and your attendance at the ball tomorrow will be missed." With his warning, we sprinted off into the outside, sheer curiosity and newfound responsibility bubbling inside us.

Skipping off towards the shops, we hooked arm in arm. We had no coins or trades to offer for shop items, nor were we searching for certain objects. It was just a movement of something enjoyable and adventurous for the first time in a long while.

Stopping inside close to every shop, we were awestruck in admiration at how higher pricing was, or how gorgeous a certain necklace was, or even at how the shopkeeper seemed handsome.

What seemed like only a few minutes was transformed into hours and we knew that it was of time to return to the inn. Chattering happily about how we thought the ball would be like, I happened to look behind me and catch a glimpse of a familiar face. It was only a second before he disappeared again. Unfortunately, I was unable to determine as to who it was. Whoever it was, he was gone without my recollection.

Uneasy and uncertain, I quickly turned my head forward and grabbed tightly onto Lydia's arm. She glanced at me, confused.

"What's the matter Rebekah? You seem quiet and distracted suddenly," she commented, stroking my arm to soothe my uneasy nerves.

"Oh, it's nothing. I'm just suddenly very starved," I lied, rubbing my stomach to prove my point. Lydia laughed and nodded her head in agreement. I was glad to reach the hopefully safe embrace of the wooden inn. I rush upstairs, far ahead of Lydia and huffed onto our bed. The whoosh of the white silk sheets gave me fond memories of childhood forts. Stealing the sheets from the linen line was my specialty, then I would sprint off towards the river bank to create my hideaway. That memory was then tainted with Mark, for his specialty was gathering up the sticks and being the assistant architect. It never turned out exceptional, for the fort would either collapse or Mother would interrupt our imaginative stories to request for the bed sheet.

The memory only made me think more of Mark and his requests. What did he expect after we became distant and forced to end our friendship? I can barely handle sneaking around to send him letters, but a real friendship would be far worse in my Father's eyes.

Lydia plopped herself down onto the bed with a squeal, ending my thoughts abruptly. I rolled my eyes and chuckled at her.

"I suppose Father will collect us for dinner soon. Your stomach won't be tortured much longer," she acknowledged as she shut her eyes in enjoyment of the luxurious bed.

With a sudden knocking upon our door, we reluctantly shot up on our feet and straightened out the wrinkles in our clothing. Etiquette and decorum in mind, we departed with Father from the inn and took a slow stroll towards the brick tavern across the street. We were sure to make supper early before the drunkards of the night arrived in their bustle. It would be far too distracting for us to eat our own dinner while listening to the slurred harmonics from the gamblers and alcoholics.

I was too harsh to judge, that I knew. However, it was safe for my case to not get involved with men of that genre. Far too much of my family's reputation would be put at risk.

Nearly cringing at the thought of such men, I recalled the earlier moment of recognition. Somebody seemed to be startled that I had noticed them and had stepped out of my view. It may have been just any normal passing man, but my instinct told me otherwise. However, that could've been just my stomach, as I was starving and I gulped down my meal quickly. Lydia gave me a look of utter disgust and concern at my slurps and consistent chewing.

"You should keep your ways of eating to a lady's Rebekah, or you can sleep in some farmer's barn tonight," Father commented with a gesture towards my bowl, his face contorted into an ugly scowl.

His statement didn't matter me much, for I had finished my supper before them and I sat impatiently in the wooden chair for them all to finish. Placing my hands in my lap, I watched as Thomas gobbled his food down whenever Father's glance was distracted away from him. It caused me to hide a muffled chuckle and my eyes crinkled with a grin at how much Thomas looked of mother. His face was a direct look into mother's, but healthy and full of youth. Biting my tongue as the bitter ideas of mother's illness wafted into my head, I felt tears well. I had felt awful leaving mother behind in her own bed, but Father insisted upon it. Her well being was taken care of tenderly by the servants, there was no need to worry upon her and cause mother further upset.

We finally left the comforting tavern and entered the windy night air. It's crisp and refreshing temperature welcomed my body as I stepped upon the cobblestoned street. The crowd of strangers had slowed and people were retreating to their abodes as soldiers strolled the streets, searching for trouble to solve.

Arriving back at the inn without a word uttered, a glint of moonlight captured my eye's interest and my head snapped to attention towards my left. Far down the street, a bright red ribbon flowed gracefully in the wind, attached to the front steps of a large structure. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the sight, but I was far too tired after a day's trip and a full belly to question what my eyes were observing.