Doe (#Wattys2016)

Chapter Forty-Three

Francis had one of the strangest weeks of her life. She was moved to the Cecil's mansion in the park. Her bedroom looked onto it, which she liked because in the early morning she would spot the deer through the mist, the skyline in the distance was punctured by the skeletal towers of the city and it made her shiver to see them.

The very first day, Lord Cecil went to great lengths to make her comfortable, taking her on a tour of the house and grounds. However, there was one part of the house that she was not permitted to visit, the west wing was Lady Cecil's domain, and she was only allowed in if she were invited by either of them. It was perfectly clear to her that Lady Cecil still didn't want her there. Dechuange also came the first day, his power seemed even greater in the cosiness of the Cecils' mansion. Francis hadn't realised how dominant a character Lurie manor had been, but now she saw that this was just a house, a comfortable shell without an agenda or particular importance, it would be nothing without its inhabitants. Dechuange was obviously more at ease, delighting in Lord Cecil's own sense of mischief. They chatted easily and their laughter seemed unaffected.

Dechuange presented her with a ring.

"Do you like it?" he asked her.

"It must have been very expensive."

"Yes. One of the last remaining sapphires," he nodded.

"You shouldn't have," she said as he slid the ring onto her finger.

"It had to be a sapphire to go with your eyes," he told her, "See how it shifts in colour a little, almost to the colour of your eyes."

He kissed her. She drew away from him and put her hand over the ring.

"And I have one too," he held up his hand, a silver ring with a small blue stone sat proudly on his slender finger, "So that everyone will know."

She frowned at it.

"Kiss it."

"What?" she raised an eyebrow.

"For luck, my future wife should seal the promise with a kiss," he smiled.

She almost went to do it before stopping herself. She knocked his hand away from her face, "Enough Dechuange, it's done now."

"It is not done. We are going to have a proper marriage. I explained to you, Francis, I chose you because I love you. I can love you as a husband should and I will," he ran a finger along her jaw, before tracing her bottom lip, "I've arranged for our engagement dinner to be held in two days time, so that our fathers can meet. It will be just the four of us and a chance to present you in society as my future wife."

She shivered as his fingers crept into hair.

"We can all decide on the date then. If it were up to me, we'd marry tomorrow. But your father has been so kind," he teased her with his lips. Her eyelids were feeling heavy and she wanted desperately for him to kiss her, "Is that okay, Francis?" he whispered.

"Yes."

He kissed her, she hungrily let him in, her eyes rolled. She felt pleasure pool inside of her at his touch. He smiled against her kiss.

"I told you could make you happy."

She pulled away from him, "Dechuange, please, can't we be friends still?"

"Friends? Of course we're friends," he looked surprised her, his face softening into one that she was more familiar with and it made her smile to see the half-sad face of her friend, "I just want you to realise, you aren't giving up anything. We can still have fun."