The Greatest Obsession

Chapter One: A Father's Blessing

A man stood outside of the Snow mansion in broad daylight. He pushed a piece of his brown, damp, and long hair around the shell of his ear with shaking fingers. His stomach clenched in nervousness which sent his intestines into a quick, merciless frenzy. He was lucky to have not eaten due to his nerves.

Twenty-three-year-old Elijah Marks, a doe-eyed, rosy-cheeked man, was caught in a rather tense moment in his life or so he thought it to be. He closed his eyes and exhaled. Above him, birds chirped in the trees, their voices like quick little sounds of simplistic joy.

The sun that pressed its light against his face only made him sweat worse. Any more waves of heat would cause Elijah to double-over in sickness.

The young man picked at a small piece of dead skin on his bottom lip with his front teeth. He bunched his waistcoat tighter around him, proudly maneuvering past the thick iron gate to the front yard.

He met the gardener who was tending to the large hedge to the left of him. The older man wiped his head with his hat and turned to look at Elijah.

"Afternoon, Mr. Marks! Is today your meeting with the lord of the house?" the old man asked Elijah.

"Indeed it is, Henry! Would you mind informing me if Ms. Irina is home this afternoon?" Elijah inquired with a bit of anxiousness in his voice.

"I don't believe she is, sir. I'm not sure where she's headed off to. Were you looking for her?" the gardener questioned.

Elijah chuckled and replied, "Quite the opposite, Henry. I'm only here to speak with her father." Henry nodded and waved the nervous man off for he had much to do if he wanted to trim the entire hedge within the hour.

Elijah knocked on the door which was opened by the butler, Preston. He explained his business to the particularly silent man. Without a word or even a glance Elijah's way, Preston led him from the entrance hall to the parlor on the right.

The room was rose colored with a dark hardwood floor. One couch was a dark green striped in sickly, pale yellow. The other was a maroon cushioned chair placed in front of a curio cabinet entirely filled with white vases. Elijah turned behind him to find the deep red-curtained window open this warm afternoon.

Elijah could still hear the birds. His sweaty fingers were tired of holding his hat. He sat it on the small round table between the couches where a copy of Lloyd's Weekly London Newspaper, was left open. It had been sent out that morning, Sunday, June 28th, 1885. He heard footsteps from the other room.

Turning around just in time, Elijah was met by Lord Abraham Snow. The man was old which went without saying otherwise, but his health was strong. He often felt as young as the young man already standing in the room. His hair was fluffy and white like cotton. He had a beard and mustache, the first having a slight point that extended past his chin. His eyes were blue--very blue--like the sky just beyond the windows.

Abraham owned a winery in Kent where he spent most of his nights testing his own spirits and bragging to anyone he brought into the place. He was kind, generous, but there were many he could not trust. This explained his reason for spending so much time in his winery in case of thieves amongst his employees or intruders. He had a son, Charles Edward Snow, and a daughter, Irina Lillian Snow. His wife Alice had passed of pneumonia when their daughter was six and their son was fourteen.

He looked at the young man who stood stock still in his parlor with a general fondness. Abraham Snow liked Elijah, though he was well-suited for his daughter. The boy was handsome, wealthy, well-spoken, and kind. He knew Irina was extremely taken with him, he couldn't deny that. Alas, deep down he wanted to keep Irina his little girl forever.