Sweet Pea

Chapter One: Marigold

Chapter One: Marigold

~England 1865~

I knelt down by my dead husband Matthew’s grave; tears streamed down my face. This wasn’t supposed to happen, I thought weakly, we had only been married six months. But now he rested in the ground under the freshly dug up soil. I was supposed to bear his children, but now I’d never get the chance to.

            The sky began to rumble as the oncoming storm approached. My black veil blew in the quickening wind into my weeping face. How was I supposed to live without Matthew? He was my first and only love, but now he was gone. I wished he were here with me now, holding me close, telling me that everything would be alright, that God had a plan for the both of us. However, he wasn’t, nor would be ever be able to comfort me again.

            My head fell as the grief I’d been holding in spilled out through rapid tears onto the ground. The storm above me let out a cry before it too began to weep for what had been lost. Its sweet melody of sorrow filled the rain drops.

            I was almost soaked to the bone in my mourning dress when I felt a gentle hand rest on my shoulder; looking up through my black veil I saw the distressed face of my sister’s husband Connor. The rain never let up in its melody, but Connor had a black hat that kept the rain from stroking his face; otherwise it be drenched like the rest of him. “Caroline,” his voice was gentle, “We need to leave now; it’s a long journey home.” Nodding, I wiped my eyes clear and began to stand up from Matthew’s grave.

            Connor lightly swung his arm around my waist, as if he were afraid I’d fall into a puddle of sorrow at his feet, guiding me to the carriage that would take me to my new home with them. I hated to think about what needed to happen now, what Matthew’s death meant for my wellbeing, but I had no choice. I’d been kicked out of Matthew’s home because I had no one to provide for me there. Instead I’d be living with my sweet sister Rosalie and her boys Connor, Jonathan, and James.

            When we arrived in front of the carriage, Connor let me go, opening the carriage’s door for me like a true gentleman would, taking my hand as he helped me into it. Inside the carriage revealed six month pregnant Rosalie sitting leaning back against the heavily cushioned seat, rubbing her protruding belly lightly in a soothing motion. Rosalie weakly smiled at me as I sat on the other side, leaving the seat next to her open for Connor. Before Connor took his seat next to his wife, he grabbed a cotton blanket that had been in one of the trunks and wrapped it around my shivering body. Then only did Connor gladly take his seat next to Rosalie, wrapping his arm protectively around her, before kissing her softly on the forehead. I hugged the blanket tightly around me, enveloping myself into the warmth it offered, but it was nothing like Matthew’s arms, where I had felt safe and loved.

            I wondered if this was what Queen Victoria had felt when she lost her husband Albert, anguish and loneliness. Would I be like her? Mourning for three or more years? Never finding love again in my lifetime and living in the anguish and solitary forever. Or was there hope for me finding love again, for my age was no more than eight and ten.

            As the carriage began to move, its soft moments lullabied me to sleep as my mind rested on Matthew once more.

In my sleeping state, I felt someone lift me from the carriage seat bridal style “Shh,” a voice cooed, as I began to stir in their arms, “You’re safe; go back to sleep,” the musky voice murmured. That was when I realized that the voice belonged to none other Connor, and I began to fall back into my slumber state.

I began to stir as sun glared into my eyes, turning in the other direction in hope to keep sleeping. I reached out with my right hand searching for Matthew, but when I realized no one was in the bed with me, I shot up from my resting position. How’d I get here…? I thought to myself, raising the silvery quilt to cover myself as I realized I was only wearing my night gown. Where was Matthew? I thought to myself, until I remembered what I had tried so hard to forget. Matthew was dead.