Tudor Girl

11

Why would someone declare their love for you, only, when refused get engaged almost straight away to someone they had said themselves were boring? I am not jealous, nor am I envious, merely confused at the lack of romance this world of mine procures.
"Are you going into town, Ethelreda?" my father asks glancing up from the papers and documents he is scanning.
"Quite so, father." I say putting on my cloak. I bid him adieu and leave for market.
The path is slick with mud and grime; all last night it had been raining making the ride home from Lord Neville's house rather difficult.
I slip a bit, but never fully fall over into the filth.
I arrive in town midmorning, early enough to see the products on the stalls that might have been sold should I have got here any later.
I look at the dress lace and ribbons. I scan over the dresses still waiting for the realisation of me being wealthy to hit. And yet it never does. I have adjusted to living a quaint life and rather enjoing living as such. I do not think I shall ever adapt to live as a person of status and wealth.
I feel a sinking in my stomach, I have done since I left Lord Neville's and yet I cannot quite decipher the cause of such a sensation. Then it strikes me; I am lonely.
I was never one for friends when I was younger, my family was all I needed and since the death of my brother and mother, my father and I have been especially close. Then I went to Lord Neville's and made friends like John and, despite their tedious humour, the twins. I might even miss their spiteful older brother. I miss them, miss the interaction with souls other than my father's, not that his is boring or irritating.
A crowd of people move away from the stall to reveal a face I know well across the market and it brings me such joy to look upon it once more. Before thinking, I walk across the street, past the stalls and through the crowds of people until I am stood direcly behind him. "John?" he turns around and looks at me. He smiles, before lowering his gaze and turning serious. "What is the matter? You look positively ill, my friend. Have I done something wrong?" I say with concern.
"You?" he says looking up both relieved and shocked at my question. "You have done nothing even slightly negative. I feared that you should not wish to see me again after the way I acted." he says. I see the apology in his eyes and shake my head with a smile.
"What is done is done. It is forgotten. Now come, tell me all that has happened since last I saw you. I hear you have not returned to Lord Neville's house. Do tell me, are you still under his employment?" He inclines his head to ask me to walk with him, to which I agree.
"I shall return, if they should have me. I was ashamed after what I did, the things I said. I couldn't bare to stay around if all you would feel for me is contempt. I decided to do the only honourble thing and leave. But I understand that you have now left and are back with your father?" I nod.
"I felt it to be my time to leave is all." I say.
"But if all is alright with you, I should very much like to return to my duties at the house." he says.
"It is and so you shall." I laugh.
We talk about much, as we did before. Silly things and serious but mainly we are relieved to be in each other's company once more.
We walk alongside the river until midafternoon, by which time he is compelled to leave me due to other engagements and bids me farewell and walks away. Once again I am alone, but knowing that John is to continue being my friend fills me with such great a joy that I hardly recognise the feeling and walk home content amidst my own happiness.
I am walking down the muddy path and the sun is getting low unusually quickly. It is too dark to see the woods two hundred feet from myself.
I hear the hooves before I see him, Bastian, riding down the lane towards somewhere.
I lower my head in an attempt to draw attention away from myself. But I realise that I have failed to do so when Bastian says "Miss Montague?"
Not wanting to appear rude I look at him and bow my head in greeting. "Good evening, sir."
"Why are you walking the road at such a time? Thieves could be around." he says, but with little compassion portrayed in his voice.
"Well, sir, I lost track of time because I was talking with John, your stable boy. We had some unresolved business, but we are back to being friends now. He also informed me that he wished to return back to work now. Do let him work again, please."
"He cannot simply choose when he will and will not come to work. I'd rather pay a loyal paid subordinate more than pay a disloyal paid subordinate less." he says.
"But you forget, sir, that he is just a man, the same as you or your father. He has just as many, if not more, complications in his life as you or I. Just because you were blessed with money and a handsome face, sir, doesn't make your life any more, or less, important than another."
"You think me handsome?" he asks. I look at him, but he shows no sign of humour, he is genuinely asking me.
"I do, sir. The same way any girl would." I say with no embarrassment or shame; he is handsome and that's a fact.
"Let me take you home. It's too dark for you to be walking through the woods." I try to protest, but he insists.
Son I am once again riding on the back of the horse, not as terrified now as I was the last time. I now know I can trust the man I'm riding with.
I saw who he truly is, who he can be for a split secon. Loving, feeling, caring and I like who he is, I like him a lot. If only he would show that sensitive side more often, like he has done today in offering me a ride home.
He drops me off at home "Thank you, sir. It was very considerate of you. Please tell your father, I should very much like to visit him again."
"Only him?" He says looking deep into my eyes.
"If I see you any more than I already do, I fear I may begin to care for you, sir." I say, then I realise what I have just said. "I mean, I may begin to get sick of you, sir. Yes, that's what I meant." I turn and walk to the house before I can see his reaction. I open the door, walk in, close it and lean against it.
I have just made a fool of myself, in front of Bastian. Why did I say I would begin to care for him? I know exactly why; I fear that I already do.