Dedicated to ginamaye - For all her support on my first story attempt on Wattpad and for being the first fellow New Zealander I came across on Wattpad. Go Middle Earth!
Chapter 2: Sparks of Contempt
If not for homesickness and the impending marriage weighing down on her chest, Amelia would have asked to repeat their journey up north ten times over.
As they travelled further and further away from the busy roads and low-lying grasslands of Lyons, the streams grew clearer, the air fresher and the trees taller, at parts arching at the tips to form a natural canopy that shaded their carriage as it rolled beneath.
She liked to poke her head and shoulders out of the window of the carriage and enjoy the spring breeze against her skin. Marge would always pull her back down to her seat and chide her for being childlike and unladylike. Amelia would laugh it away, saying she never asked to be Lady of Marlborough or Emira of Steersberg; she was just her papa's little girl.
On the other side of the King's Wall that marked the border between the Northern and Southern Lands, Drake Rohan was not half as cheery.
He had expected his bride to arrive by mid-spring, a moon ago. But all that arrived thus far were three messages from the men he sent to accompany her, in all of which they ranted (he imagined they ranted, though the messages themselves were more than polite) about Lady Amelia's incessant requests to take breaks, for fresh air, for a drink at a teahouse, to pick a wildflower, to attend to 'womanly business', and whatever else tickled her fancy.
At last, Amelia arrived on the last day of spring. How the little lady turned a two-moon's journey into three was beyond him. If it weren't for the extra men he sent to await their carriage at the gates of the King's Wall to ensure that the last ten-day leg of their journey did take precisely ten days, he guessed she would have taken another full moon.
The coachman pulled up the carriage outside the front steps of Steersberg Manor, where he awaited for his bride-to-be. Truth be told, he cared little for who she was or what she was like. She was merely a responsibility, cast upon him by family honour and a promise to his mother. If she was a nuisance, he will keep his distance and that was all. Still, the responsibility would be a slightly more pleasant one should she be as charming as his mother assured him she would be.
And like most mothers who desperately wanted their sons to marry, she lied.
As Amelia exited the carriage, she tripped over her ridiculously big yellow skirt. If he hadn't rushed forward to catch her like a perfect gentleman, she would have landed on her face. And yet, she pulled away from him without a word and straightened herself.
She was tall for a Southern woman. He stood a few inches above six-foot, taller even than the average Northern man. Without that giant headpiece of a blond wig that doubled the size of her head, she might just fit perfectly under his chin.
As for her facial features, at first all he could see was a pair of pretty blue-grey eyes peeking over the top of a feathered fan that covered half of her face, regarding him as he regarded her. The eyes of a bold and spirited woman. He didn't mind those eyes, not at all.
She extended a hand and he took it up without hesitation, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckle. "Lady Amelia, it is my honour to welcome you to Steersberg. I am Drake Rohan." He gave her what he thought was his most charming smile and gestured for the man behind him to come forward. "This is William, my steward. He will ensure that all your needs are properly taken care of."
YOU ARE READING
Bride Behind the Mask
Romantik[COMPLETE] Drake Rohan's wife is a real piece of work. He despises everything about her. Everything from the heavily-powdered face, to the overly-red lips, to the shrilly voice she uses to yell the heads off the servants. But this marriage was his m...
