I suppose my silence was equivalent to acceptance, but I can assure you, it was not. I am dressed in a white gown, apparently the latest style, as Lady Dorothea so happily emphasized. In fact, my treatment by Susanna, Lady Dorothea, Lady Caroline, and even Lord Caldwell has been sweeter -- and more far-fetched -- than any treatment I have ever received in the course of my eighteen years. I stare at my glossy reflection as the maids giggle around me.
I had never even known what it was to have an abundance of maids until the one I learned of my inheritance, and Lady Caroline insisted that I have as many as possible for my imminent wedding day.
When I finally convince Betsy that I will be fine dressing my hair myself, I squint at my now unfamiliar face in the mirror. I look just like Susanna - if not more elegant. My hair has been kissed lighter by sunshine in several places from my countless days resting in the garden, and my eyes are wide, my lips red, and my skin clear and fair.
But, my eyes are dull, and my skin is crawling. Haven't I always wanted a wedding, with the man I love? Alas, I don't love Henry. I have ultimately realized that the boy I had grown to adore in my youth is no longer the same, no longer pure or innocent, rather selfish and jaded. He has practically forced me into this entire thing, my rejection clearly wasn't enough.
I run to the garden. The dress, and the corset suffocate me until the world seems as though it's spinning around as an inconceivable blur. I collapse on the park bench, a painful headache coming on, and weep into my lap.
"You look beautiful, dearest Helene," I spin around on my heels, expecting to see James, when instead I see Henry, looking as striking as ever.
"Henry, what are you doing here?" I plead. Not only does he torment me in my thoughts, but he also manages to torment me in any place I think is a sanctuary.
"You look as stunning as you did the day I met you," He mutters, stepping closer to me, and wrapping his arms around me.
He grabs my hands and holds them to his shoulders, attempting to press me into his large frame as closely as he can.
He is forwardness isn't as appealing as it used to be. I struggle in his embrace, but he continues to caress my cheeks, and fondle my hair. He should not be doing such things, when we are not yet married. It is completely inappropriate for the two of us to be alone, and so close.
"Henry, I don't want to do this. I don't want to marry you, I don't trust you," I exclaim suddenly, finally finding the strength to push him away from me, "You were my best friend, why did you have to ruin our friendship? And why didn't you visit your sister before she died? She loved you so much, and you didn't even bother to respect her memory by consoling your family at the funeral."
Henry snorts in disgust.
"Henry, answer me!"
"You want an honest answer?" he seethes, "Fine. I'll give you one. The only reason I went to stay with Lady Dorothea was because of you. I was practically conditioned to pursue you. My Mother told me, since I was a boy, that I was to marry a wealthy heiress and bring new money to the family. So, when she discovered you were in line for an inheritance from your grandfather: something she heard from Lady Dorothea, who kept that secret from you since your father died and prevented your Aunt from contacting you until the right moment - I made you fall in love with me, which was less difficult than I thought it would be. Anyway, you were destined to come stay with us from the moment we met, and it worked out perfectly that Susanna and William were engaged. It could be worse, but at least I have a pretty wife to warm my bed." He ends his appalling speech with a hoarse chuckle, as if he just told a joke.
I could throw up. Our entire friendship was an illusion, and Henry never cared for me, not even in our youth. Even though I know he has grown insolent, I had clung to the hope that he used to be kind. But my affection was faulty. He was never kind, and continues to be malicious.
Henry beams condescendingly downwards at me, his lips curved upwards into a slimy smile.
"How could you?" I gasp, "Henry Caldwell, I never want to see the likes of you again."
"That will be easy. When we're married, you'll only have to deal with me when I need more money, or when I visit your bedchambers on the occasion to produce heirs."
Shocked, I gasp. Before I can retort, he pushes his lips to mine aggressively, and I struggle to remove myself from his grasp. Suddenly, James appears, shaking Henry off of me and pummelling him to the ground. In a collision of fists, James pins Henry to the grass and rather than injuring him further, stands up and turns to face me.
I glance up at him and mumble a thanks.
"What a terrible man," Mr. Aldridge says, taking my arm. "Shall I walk you back to the house?"
"No," I reply evenly, "I will not be returning there. I am going to leave at once. Would you escort me to town, so that I may catch a public carriage to London? I want to visit my Mama's sister in Madrid, because I will not stay here for one moment longer."
As we stroll together, James begins to speak. "Helene - I was wondering, if you had thought about what I proposed earlier?" James asks, his eyes wide and sincere. I notice, there isn't anything that makes James particularly handsome. He is nowhere near as handsome as Henry, but his kindness, his personality seems to shine through his skin.
"Yes," I peer up at him.
"Oh, I don't need to know now. I understand you're in the midst of grieving, and of course, you have just been attacked by a former friend, so-"
"I meant yes. I'll marry you, James. You are a good man, the best I've ever known."
~~~
YOU ARE READING
The House Guest (Unedited)
Historical FictionWhen Helene Lovell finds herself a penniless orphan, she is swept into the world of manners, money, and etiquette, where her cruel Aunt Lady Dorothea is the ringmaster, and never ceases to remind her of her burdensome existence. The only consolation...