VZCW

I tended to bite my lip more frequently when I am upset nervous. I couldn’t help being nervous around him; the male gender usually made me stand on guard. If I had distaste for a man, I made it known. I was not shy when it came to expressing hatred. I was awful when it came to conversing with handsome charming men. Some would often say that I acted too shy around the men for them to notice me. It was more on the basis of lock of interest in most of the Englishmen my family associated with. The man was simple; no not simple but calm and caring and honest.
“You ready darlin’ or are ya gonna stand there starin’ at me?”
“You really are full of yourself.” I mumbled as I walked into the stable and led the horse out.
“You are doin the easy job darlin’, I gotta clean out the stalls.”
“Well it is your job. I’m here just to help.”
Gerry started to haul the soiled hay into the wheelbarrow.
“I’ve been meaning to ask ya darlin’; why do ya help? I mean I’m glad to have ye to keep me company. But shouldn’t you rich blokes be inside sipping tea?”
I stopped grooming for a second and turned around to look at him. He was concentrating on his job; and didn’t look at me. But the slight furrow of his brow told me that something was wrong.
“You seem bitter.”
He stopped in mid scoop and looked at me. Sweat beginning to develop on his forehead. He set the hay in the wheelbarrow and leaned on the pitchfork for a second.
“I just wish…..” He went silent for a second. “I just wish that I could’ve been born into a family like yours. Ye have so many more opportunities then I will ever have.”
“You’re free though.”
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t have to live up to expectations. You don’t have to be forced to marry someone you don’t love. You aren’t expected to go and fight for our country.” I said softly; I knew that it was improper to raise my voice. Gerry was silent; he probably sensed my upset manner and was trying not to feed it.
“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to offend ye. Ye life seems so glamorous, can’t help but be jealous.” He said sincerely but I was too wrapped up in my own anger to accept it. I said nothing and I continued to groom the chestnut horse before me.
“I’m finished; I’ll go outside and help Billy.” I said as I but the grooming brushes away and tied the horse to the wooden pole so it wouldn’t get away. I felt Gerry put an arm on my shoulder. A chill went up my spine.
“Please don’t be angry; I’m very sorry, please…….” His voice drifted off. I bit my bottom lip and turned around. I looked at the ground; I knew that if I looked at him my anger would disappear. I was difficult to stay angry at someone like Gerry. He never would dare be cruel to anyone; it was just his nature. He put his index and middle finger under my chin and pulled my face up.
“It’s alright; forget it ever happened.”
I stepped back; Gerry’s hand dropped to his side in what seemed to be disappointment. I turned around and walked out of the stable to look for Billy. As I walked into the rain; heart pounded in my chest. I couldn’t think strait. I felt like I had a near- death experience. I could not be more delighted by the verification of his feelings towards me. Adrenalin seeped into my veins and it felt as though I could run for miles without rest.

I gasped in shock and stepped back; for a moment I was speechless. I was too embarrassed to speak. My mouth hung open to trap the stable flies. Gerard opened one eye and quirked a smirk.
“I’m so sorry I thought that you were asleep.”
“Sure ya did.” He said as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. He looked as though he never got enough sleep.
“Why are you always so tired?”
“I usually can’t sleep at night. I get nightmares.”
“What are the nightmares about?”
“My childhood growing up in Limerick.”
“Care to tell me?”
He looked up at me from where he sat and patted his hand on the hay motioning for me to sit down with him. I sat next to him and he put a strong arm around my shoulders. We both leaned back on the pile of hay, my head resting on his arm.
“You would think luv that Ireland is a beautiful place where there is green pastures and happy people wherever you went but it’s not like that. Ireland is a very poor country darlin’ and people are not always the friendliest. Where I grew up in Limerick, you wouldn’t find fancy rich people with their new shiny shoes or fur coats. You would find children outside wearing dirty old clothes throwing rocks in a bucket, a mother begging at the church doors for food, and robbers stealin’ your money and beatin’ ya to a bloody pulp. Yer mum was very lucky to be growin’ up in the countryside and she probably told you about that, but not what I told ya just now. Be careful about where ya goin’ when ya go to Ireland. Because I pretty girl like you can get into a lotta trouble in some places.’
I didn’t take my eyes off him. I chewed on my bottom lip trying to come up with some response, but nothing seemed to suffice the knowledge he had brought upon me. Now I had a reason to fear my dream of living in Ireland.
“Would you ever go back to Ireland?”
Gerry pondered my question for a moment before responding.
“Tis possible that I be wantin’ to go back someday. But right now I’m gonna stay here and work. I am very lucky that I got such a good job ya know? One that pays this well.”
“We should go together; you can protect me from the people who would want to hurt me.”
“Of course darlin’.” Gerry said as he planted a feather light kiss upon by cheek. I blushed and looked down. He was my best friend and the only one that I could ever trust.
“Shouldn’t you be working?” I asked as I poked him in the ribs. He rolled his eyes and got up. He held out a hand for me and I thankfully took it.
“So what do we have to do today?” I asked him as I looked around the horse stables.
“I will be cleanin’ the stalls. You can groom the horses if ya like.”
“Sure I’ll go get the grooming brushes.”
I walked into the closet to retrieve what was necessary to carry out my job. When I came back I saw Gerry leading the horse out of its stable. He tied the horse to the post and patted it gently upon the nose. He turned his head towards me and gave me a warm smile. My face grew hot and I bit my bottom lip. It was a bad habit of mine, chewing my lips

CW

“Don’t give me that darlin’; your mother’s not bloody stupid. He’s good lookin’ boy if I don’t say so myself.”
“You did say so yourself.” I teased; she playfully hit me on the arm.
“Oh hush now!”
“Braid my hair mum.”
She rolled her eyes and nodded and began to French braid my hair. I gazed at my green wellingtons on my feet and played with the gold Celtic cross on my neck. I took the cloth that was in my hand and wiped the messy eye makeup off my face. I looked around my room and impatiently waited for mother to finish. I wanted to get out into the fresh air. I tapped my foot upon the floor and whistled to myself; sensing my impatience she slowed her pace just to get upon my nerves.
“Will you braid faster?” I snapped; she laughed at me and I turned to look her in the eye. She stared back with her all knowing blue eyes.
“I know you want to get out and see Gerry but you have to wait another few minutes.”
“I know that you are slowing down on purpose.”
“It just proves my point.”
“What ‘point’ are you talking about?”
“The point that you fancy young Kennedy.”
I scoffed and folded my arms in frustration. My mother’s mind could never be changed. Her opinions were as if they were cemented into her brain. She told me that I inherited her stubbornness and temper.
“Are you finished yet?”
“Yes, go on now love and tell young Kennedy I said ello.”
“Will do;” I walked out of my room and left my mother alone. I felt sorry for her; she was lonely. Ever since father died she had shut herself indoors. I used to spend a great deal of time with her, but ever since we hired Gerard, I have been working with him.
I walked out the back door of our estate and made my way to the stables. The walk was long and difficult because of the muddy terrain. It was still pouring outside so I walked faster. I saw a man walking out of the stables with a bag of sweet oats hauled over his shoulder. It was Billy, Gerard’s best mate.
“Oui Billy!” I yelled, he turned around and smiled. He was another Irishman that mum hired for work. She enjoyed hiring Irish blokes for jobs around our estate. It made her feel more at home to have people who came from the same place as her working for her.
“Hello Miss. Mordret; what are ya doin here in the pourin’ rain lass?”
“I came here to help; where’s Gerard?”
“He’s inside feedin’ the horses, and will ya stop callin’ him Gerard. He likes to be called Gerry.”
“Alright, I’ll talk to you later; bye Billy!”
“Bye lass!” He said as he walked away to feed the horses.
I slowly walked into the barn. There was one light bulb that illuminated the entire barn. I squinted my eyes to try and peer into the poorly lit area. Even though Gerry was supposed to be in the barn, I felt entirely alone. A horse snorted and shook its head to relive itself from the flies. I jumped back from the sudden noise. I pet the horse’s nose to calm it down yet I had yet to calm down myself. I was not at ease and the solitude that I felt made me even more uncomfortable. The blood pumped through my heart quickly making it race. I heard a creeping noise in the dark corner of the barn. It was the sound of heavy breathing. I walked carefully and quietly to the forbidden corner. As I came closer, a silhouette of a human appeared slumped in the corner sleeping contently. As I approached the figure looked more familiar. It was Gerry slumbering on the pile of hay.
I took a moment to study him. His apparel was nothing out of the ordinary for a worker. He wore a white shirt, blue jeans and a pair of black wellingtons. His brown hair was short and disheveled. He was in good shape from his job of hauling barley and oats, and shoveling the stalls. He had a strong jaw and a nose that would only look attractive on his face. He was unique; a unique attractiveness that any lady would fawn over.
“What are you looking at darlin’?” Gerry said humorously.
I gasped in shock and stepped back; for a moment I was speechless. I was too embarrassed to speak.

CW

“Do you read Jane Austen?”
“Just because I am a woman Mr. Ryder does not mean that I am compassionate for books that have to do with matters of the heart.”
He obviously saw the offence my face and tone of words projected and frowned.
“Sorry, I did not mean to insult you, believe me my curiosity in your choice of literature was on the bases of getting to know you better.”
“If you wish to get to know me sir I suggest you ask me which type of books I prefer instead of inquisitions based upon my female gender.”
“I can tell that I have hit a nerve in you and I sincerely apologize. It would mean to world to me if you were to give me another chance. I am afraid that you have already come to a conclusion about my character and your conclusion is not in my favor.”
I bit the inside of my cheek; I had to admit that I was being a bit unfair to Mr. Ryder. His questions were innocent and because my mind was made up so clearly about his disposition, I was twisting his words around.
“Alright, we could start over again; but I must give you fair warning, my mind does not change quickly.”
He gently squeezed my hand that held on to his arm.
“Then it is settled; how about breakfast.”
“Sounds great I’m starved.” My brother said as he came to walk beside us. I almost forgot his presence; Charles gave me a wink.
We were seated at a small round table in the dining hall. It was set up for breakfast with morning tea and scones. I sat down uncomfortably; I knew that I had lied to him and that my impression of him would never change. It is not the case that I am stubborn or have a hatred for man of his type; it was merely based on the fact that I was not alive when I talked to him. It was in figurative sense of course, it was just a strong feeling that our personalities would never mingle. I sighed and took a scone from the plate. My brother and Alec whispered something to one another. They went to the other two chairs, both of them staring at me as they slowly sat down.
“Why are you two staring at me so intently?”
They both looked at each other and then turned back to me.
“Alec wanted to know if you and I would like to spend the rest of the day here.”
I coughed on the piece of scone I had bitten and took a sip of water.
“What are we to do here?”
“I don’t know, we could look at more of my artwork or you could come and read in my library. I have all of the greatest novelists and play writes.” Alec said; his hands resting on his lap. I set my glass of water back on the table and cleared my throat.
“That is very kind of you to offer but I was going to tend to my horses today.”
“Don’t you have servants for that?”
“Yes, a very nice Irishman tends to my horses. But I enjoy helping him and spending time with the horses myself.”
“Pray tell how old is this ‘Irishman’?”
I looked at him with a curiosity as to why he asked me such a question.
“I do not know; he isn’t very old, maybe a couple of year older than me.”
Alec nodded slowly and took a sip of his tea. I didn’t like the way he was looking at me.
“What is that look for Mr. Ryder?”
He set his tea cup on the table calmly. His eyes flashed to mine, an accusatory expression plastered on his handsome face.
“Tell me Victoria; are you more eager to see your horses or your Irishman?”
“I love the horses Mr. Ryder and only them.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes I am positive enough to know where my heart stands.”
“A lady like you is far too young to know where her heart lies.”
I gently set the porcelain cup on the dish.
“You presume that since I am young that I am indifferent; is that correct?”
“Yes I do believe so.”
“Then let me enlighten you Mr. Ryder that I am perfectly aware of where I stand in matters of the heart.”
“How would you know that if you are not in love?”
“Because I know what I want in a man and there is nothing that will change where I stand.”
Alec gave me an amused smirk and looked down to his hand that was playing with the fork and then looked back to me.
“I highly doubt that you will ever find a man who will be worthy of your presence.”
“Is that sarcasm I hear Mr. Ryder?”
“Yes only because I believe that your qualifications for courtship are not as different form any other woman in your circumstances.”
“You insinuate that my ‘qualifications’ for a man to win my heart have to do with looks, wealth and materials, but you Mr. Ryder are dead wrong.”
“Now you have intrigued me.”
“I feel honored to have caught your interest.” I answered back in a sarcastic tone.
Mr. Ryder laughed and folded his arms over his chest.
“Pray tell, what are your qualifications?”
“I do not think it appropriate to speak of such matters publicly.”
“You tease me Miss. Mordret.”
“I could not be more sincere.”
“Please I must insist.”
“And I must reject your question Mr. Ryder.”
“And I am still insisting.”
“If you ask me again I will leave.”
“I highly doubt that you will.”
I stood up from the table abruptly; my brother had his face in his hands and shook his head. I threw the napkin on the table and straitened my red jacket out.
“Good day Mr. Ryder; I hope that I never have the pleasure of meeting you again!” I pushed the chair out of the way and walked to the exit. The butler opened the door for me to walk out. The rain was pouring down.
“Should I call a car Miss?”
I stopped and turned around to look at the butler.
“No thank you, I think I’ll walk.” I tried to be as polite as I could when talking to him. Somehow he sensed by bitterness and nodded his head slowly. I turned around and walked in to the rain. It was a warm rain so it did not bother me as much; I knew that I would be ruining my clothes but I could have cared less. I took my shoes off and stormed through the trees. Wet hair stuck to my face as my bun began to unravel; mud covered my legs as I walked quickly past the trees and the curious animals that inhabited it. When I finally reached my house I pushed the doors open forcibly. The noise echoed the hall and woke my mother in an instant. She ran out of bed to find out who slammed the doors.
“Victoria Ann!”
My mother said as she walked down the stairs. I knew that when she used my middle name it meant that I was in trouble. I waited for her to reach the bottom of the stairs. I was in disarray; my clothes were drenched and covered in dirt and my makeup ran down my face.
“I’m sorry that I ruined my outfit but that man is the most insolent man I have ever met!”
“Oh hush; do you think I care about that prissy outfit? What the bloody Christmas were you thinkin’ lass? You could’ve caught your death out there in the cold rain!” My mother’s Irish brogue was more noticeable when she was angry.
“Mum, I’ll be fine, I just need to go and change.”
“Alright darlin’ I’ll come with ya right now to get something nice and dry to put on.”
I nodded and we both went upstairs to my room. My saturated skirt left a trail of drops on the carpet leading to my room. When we stepped inside I immediately started removing my clothes, leaving them on my floor. The maid came in to pick them up; mother sat on the bed and as I went to change into something more comfortable.
“So who was this ‘frustrating man’ that has gotten you in such a state?”
“He is the most arrogant, rude and insufferable man that I’ve ever came across!”
My mother snorted as she traced the designs of my comforter on my bed with her index finger.
“Was he handsome?”
I poked my head out of my changing area and glared at her.
“Why do you always ask me that? I told you, looks are nice but a good personality is far better.”
I went back to changing. I put a simple white undershirt that I stole from my brother and a pair of jeans that he grew out long ago. I grabbed my pair of wellingtons and slipped them on. When I walked out of the changing area my mother smiled.
“Much better darlin’; it looks more natural.”
I sat at the foot of the bed and handed my mother a brush; she took it and ran it through my wet hair.
“Can you braid it for me?”
“Don’t I always; where are you headed today darlin’?”
“To the stables to help Gerard.”
My mother quirked a smirk.
“Ah you’ve taken a likin’ to young Kennedy I see.”
“Mother!”

CW

But of course as I told you earlier, the war is what brought us back to Hertfordshire.
“Are you even listening to me?” Charles woke me from my thoughts; I snapped my head towards him and gave him a blank expression.
“I’m sorry what did you say?”
“Never mind; you know that is why you don’t have a man.”
“Oh and why don’t I have a companion Charles?’
“You’re always in your little world; you never listen to anyone for more than a minute.”
“That’s not true and you know it.”
“No your right, its’ more like thirty seconds.”
I punched him in the shoulder.
“What the hell is it with you and hurting people?”
“Oh shut up and take it like a man.”
We finally stepped out of the woods and onto our neighbor’s grass. A tall man stood at the door with his hands in his pockets. His lips were quirked into a friendly smirk on his handsome face and his brown hair was neatly combed to the side. He wore a navy blue suit pants and a white shirt. I felt a bit overdressed with my brother in a tweed suit and him in a simple shirt. He stepped down from his front porch to meet us. He gave Charles a hug.
“Good to see you again Charles.” Then he turned his head towards me. He walked towards me and took my gloved hand. He did something so unexpected; he removed my glove from my hand and brought my hand to his lips. My eyes widened at his forward display of affection; he held on to my hand and smiled.
“It is a pleasure to see you again Miss. Mordret.”
“Yes a pleasure.” I said pleasantly.
I released my hand from his grasp and held it out for my glove. He placed it in my hand and offered me another one of his smirks. I did not like his overfriendliness; it made me feel a tad uncomfortable.
“Shall we have breakfast inside or outside?” He said as he turned towards my brother.
“It’s a nice day, lets enjoy it.” He said while sticking his hands inside his pockets.
“What do you mean ‘nice day’? I can’t see the sun?” I said as I looked up, the dark clouds started to roll in again.
“At least it is not raining;” Charles snapped back. Alec looked at us with amusement.
“Are you two always this viscous towards each other?”
“Being a prick is hardly the way to encourage affection.”
“And being a snob is no way either.”
“If I was a snob dear brother then I wouldn’t be friends with have the people on our house staff.”
“The only reason you are friends with them is because you don’t have any friends of your own!”
“This is coming from someone who no talked to throughout our whole school year!”
I took a step towards him and he did the same. Alec came in between us; his chest brushed against mine. I blushed at our close proximity and took a step back. Alec was about to say something to me but decided against it and closed his mouth. He then put a hand on my shoulder and a hand on my brother’s.
“Calm down you two; its’ funny when we were young I never heard you raise your voices at one another.”
His hand on my shoulder caused me to shift uncomfortably. Alec sensed my uneasiness and removed his hand. It was quiet for a while, the clouds were getting darker and the temperature drop made me shiver slightly. Alec pursed his lips and looked towards the white rocks that made up his driveway.
“Well I am very hungry so let’s have breakfast shall we?” Alec said as he clapped his hands and rubbed them together. He held out an arm for me and out of politeness I took it. It was not that I disliked him at the time. It was just that no one had ever treated me like that before. He led me up the stairs and into his house.
“I thought that we were eating outside.”
“I do not think that it is such a good idea; it is about to rain soon.”
“Oh right we had this conversation earlier, I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about Miss. Mordret; may I call you Victoria?”
“Of course, I prefer it.” I said politely; the grandeur of his manor was a nothing like I have seen before. The house was decorated in early nineteenth century décor. Greek Gods painted on the ceiling, giving one the reminder of the once all powerful Empire. His collection of statues was impressive; the emotionless eyes gazing into nothingness. I felt as though I had traveled back in time when authors such as Jane Austen lived. I could imagine myself walking in a white empire wasted gown, my hair in a loose bun into a ball where men and women were drinking and dancing. There was no joy anymore, no laughs no pleasure. Because we were at war; Europe was stained red with the blood of young men who left their wives and children to fight for their country. I should have cherished every hour I had with my father; I should have been grateful and joyous for every second the world was at peace. It had become a challenge to remember a time where the world held a sound of silence. I knew that there was nothing a woman like me could do. All I could do was listen to the radio’s broadcast on the war and pray for it to end.
“Do you like my house Victoria?”
“Yes you have a beautiful collection of art work.”
“I love art, there is so much one could say with a painting.”
I only nodded my head; he had a certain grace to his stride and a very aristocratic posture. His wiry tall body towered over mine. His face was handsome enough but it always held an arrogant smirk. I could tell that he thought of marriage as an expectation not as an actual pleasure. He was certainly content with being a bachelor yet his family probably wasn’t. He had money and came from a noble family, what more could a woman want. He was certainly the type my grandmother would be thrilled for me to marry. Even though I only held half of royal blood within my veins; I was still obligated to marry someone within our social circle.
Of course, that only made my distaste for his kind definite. I knew that one shouldn’t judge so quickly but this man was everything wrong to me. I needed a friend and a husband, not just a lover. My eyes looked the other way; my mind was made up, and I was not interested. I could feel his stare as if it was being engraved into my skull. In his mind he probably thought of me as the perfect match for his family’s approval. His urgent need for a bride made his affectionate manner more profound. I admit that his friendly way towards me boosted my pride slightly. I was terrified at the prospect of an arraigned marriage with a man such as him. My mother I knew would be against it, yet I was not so conclusive of my grandmother. Even though she played almost absolutely no part in my childhood, the influence she had on my life was not diminished. My grandmother was the link between us and the rest of our high class family. Even though I barley associated with that part of my family, I could not hide the fact that part of me yearned, needed their acceptance. If only I was as strong as my mother at that time; I would have turned around and walked away right then and there instead of going through all that I did. But of course, one must learn from their mistakes, and I must learn from mine.
“You are very beautiful.”
My face turned crimson, but not out embarrassment.
“Dismiss your vows, your feigned tears, your flattery, but where heart is hard, they make no battery.”
“You are very poetic.”
“Shakespeare was a very good poet; I however am not.”
“You read Shakespeare? So do I; I read his work all the time.”
“I read a lot; it is something that I enjoy.”
“Do you read Jane Austen?”
I sneered at his comment. I thought it to be slightly sexist.
“Just because I am a woman Mr. Ryder does not mean that I read romance novels.”

CW

I stuck my tongue out at him; I admit that I was quite immature in my nature. Growing up seemed more as a job then a luxury and I was quite a lazy adolescent. My mother told me to never lose my childish enthusiasm and good things would come my way. My mother and I were very much alike in personality. She was born in a cottage on a horse farm in County Cork Ireland to the dreary country of England to study nursing. That is where she met my father, an aristocrat and an heir to his family’s fortune. Both of them came from very different back rounds and standards of living. My father used to tell me that the first thing he loved about my mother was her playful spirit and witty remarks. My mother’s fire red hair and green hazel eyes made her stand out; the woman whom he usually associated with could not even compare to her unique beauty. The high class women that he had known did not know the value of hard work as my mother did. They spent their days sipping tea and gossiping about others, while my mother worked in school to get an education. My father was a great supporter of education; he enrolled me into Benenden School in Kent and my brother into Roedean School in Brighton.
My father was a quiet, modest man who loved to be outdoors. He spent most of his fatherhood taking my brother out hunting and entering polo matches. It was my father who taught me how to ride a horse and how to play his favorite game of poker. He was unlike other fathers; he did not spent the whole of their time ignoring their wives and children to go drinking with their friends to talking about politics. My father was not much for politics and his best friend was in fact my mother. My parent’s marriage was one of the few marriages based on love. Father always told me “Do not dwell on a relationship that ended long ago. If you were meant to be with that person, you would have never survived this long of a parting.” He knew what my problems with love were before I even told him. When I asked him how he knew that dwelled on the past, he laughed and touched my shoulder. “Your eyes are like children’s books; they can be easily read.” My bewilderment as to how he always knew my problems still lingered to this very day. I supposed that his keen sense of people’s problems came naturally to him. His gift came not from reading books or intense study of the human mind; it came from his experience with people who did not always tell the truth.
Generations of his family had arraigned marriages that would sometimes end in disaster or a divorce. He was young for a father only being in his early twenties when my brother and I were born. My mother was only sixteen when she quit her studies to marry him. Within the first year of their marriage mother brought us to Earth.
When I was a child, mother told me of her life working at her family’s pub. She promised to take me to Ireland some day so we could meet her relatives. I would often dream about the beautiful valleys of green, the smell of the fields after the rain. When I was twelve my mother gave me a gold Celtic Cross; beautiful designs were engraved into the thin slab of gold. A deep green emerald was placed neatly within the cross. It was the only necklace I would ever wear; I was proud of my heritage. The Irish people never had it well off; yet their sense of optimism and Irish pride helped them bare through the turbulent times.
My grandmother’s distaste for Irish society was made perfectly clear when she did not give my parent’s blessing nor attend my parent’s wedding. The only one who consent the marriage was my late grandfather; everyone had the knowledge of his ulterior motive. This action was due to a vengeful husband trying to scorn the woman he was forced to marry. When my mother was bed ridden with my brother and I, my grandmother introduced him to the aristocratic single woman in hopes that he would leave my mother. Having enough with her indecent tricks, after we were born mother pleaded father to move far away. Unfortunately he was too reluctant to leave with my grandmother in her sickly state.
It took a couple of years of persuasion for my father to call upon his sister to take care of his mother while we moved to London. My brother and I were in a despair because we would have to say farewell to all of our neighbors and friends and say hello to the busy town of London

I stuck my tongue out at him; I admit that I was quite immature in my nature. Growing up seemed more as a job then a luxury and I was quite a lazy adolescent. My mother told me to never lose my childish enthusiasm and good things would come my way. My mother and I were very much alike in personality. She was born in a cottage on a horse farm in County Cork Ireland to the dreary country of England to study nursing. That is where she met my father, an aristocrat and an heir to his family’s fortune. Both of them came from very different back rounds and standards of living. My father used to tell me that the first thing he loved about my mother was her playful spirit and witty remarks. My mother’s fire red hair and green hazel eyes made her stand out; the woman whom he usually associated with could not even compare to her unique beauty. The high class women that he had known did not know the value of hard work as my mother did. They spent their days sipping tea and gossiping about others wile my mother worked in school to get an education. My father was a great supporter of education; he enrolled me into Benenden School in Kent and my brother into Roedean School in Brighton.
My father was a quiet, modest man who loved to be outdoors. He spent most of his time taking my brother out hunting and entering polo matches. It was my father who taught me how to ride a horse and how to play his favorite game of poker. He was unlike other fathers who spent the whole of their time ignoring their wives and children to go drinking with their friends and talking about politics. My father hated politics and doted upon his family. He was young for a father only being in his early twenties when my brother and I were born. My mother was only sixteen when she quit her studies to marry him. Within the first year of their marriage mother brought us to Earth. My grandmother considered us a miracle; twins being delivered without any complications were considered impossible at the time. A grand ball was dedicated in my mother’s honor; any objections to my father marrying a woman with no social connections were long forgotten.

CW

The war destroyed everything in my young life.
The once overcrowded streets of London now lay in rubble beneath my feet. I was young, maybe 15 or 16 when my father left to fight for our country. There was nothing any of my family could do to stop him. He kissed my family farewell promising to come back home safely.
He never came back.
A couple of years later, the Nazis attacked the city of London. Houses , buildings, streets were all left in a heap of rubble. Families that our family knew perished in the burning hell that was now London. The pain was too great for anyone to bear. We knew we had to get away from it all.
We knew that we had to escape.


July 10th, 1941.
I leant my shoulder against the door frame of my home and gazed outside into the foggy country air. The air was sweet with summer and humid from the previous rain. It was 7 in the morning and the sun was starting to peek through the lush green trees beyond the freshly cut grass of our lawn. The dew on the front porch of our white estate glistened as the light hit it. I made my way off the porch and onto the damp grass. I loved the feeling of it against my bare feet, the way it curved and bent to make way for me and then slowly spring up after words as if I was never walked upon it at all. I was only in my peach colored nigh gown that ended at my ankles. My waist length brown hair was neatly braided and put to one shoulder so it would not disturb me in my sleep. I took in a deep breath and let out a sigh of contentment as I turned around to walk back inside.
I was delighted to move back to Hertfordshire. The Blitz in London was the reason my mother decided to relocate back to the grand estate that my twin brother and I grew up in. We were to turn 18 in one month and we were delighted to celebrate it in a house that our family owned for hundreds of years. The Mordret estate was one of the biggest estates in Hertfordshire. While making my way back to the manor I turned my head to the right to look at the neighboring house. I looked around the same as ours matching us in size and beauty. I saw a man outside on the porch. He stood tall with his hands in his pockets. He was so far away that I could not tell if he was staring at me or elsewhere. I decided to ignore whoever was there and head back inside to wake my brother.
Charles hugged his pillow tightly as he slumbered; his blond hair was tousled and he had a loud snore. I crept into his bedroom and snuck up to his bed. I lowered by head so I could whisper in his ear.
“I hope you’re not pretending that the pillow is a woman Charles.”
Before I had time to react Charles grabbed me and pulled me into bed with him.
“Didn’t I tell you not to disturb me when I am sleeping?” Charles said playfully as he held on to me tight.
“Told me to wake you at 7:30; you’re going to your friend’s house for breakfast.”
Charles yawned and released me for his steel grip.
“Want to come along? Alec’s house is only walking distance.”
“Who is Alec?”
Charles gave her a shocked expression.
“For once in your bloody life, think! He was my best friend growing up. He always kissed your hand when you two would meet.”
I pondered for a moment trying to recollect him yet nothing seemed to hit me.
“No sorry, don’t remember a thing about him.”
Charles rolled his eyes and reluctantly got out of bed. He went to the closet across the room to choose his clothes for the day to come.
“Come with me then; I’m sure when you see him you’ll remember.”
“Is he handsome?”
Charles snorted at my forward question.
“Why do you care? Weren’t you determined to marry George Wilson?” Charles said teasingly.
I glared at him; he promised that he would seize teasing me about that man.
“You bloody know that it was only a crush. I was 12 for Christ’s sake!”
I picked up a pillow that and fallen to the floor and flung it at the back of Charles’ head. It hit him with a thud. He turned looked angrily at me.
“Stop being such a child.”
“You cannot say that! You and I are the same age!”
“Please don’t remind me!” Charles said as he picked out a suit and threw it on the bed beside me. I wrinkled my nose at his choice.
“Why are you wearing tweed? Momma bought you those brand new suits!”
Charles walked to the drawers to pick out a tie.
“Because it is comfortable so shut up Victoria.” Charles said while looking at two choices of tie to wear. He held both out for me to look at.
“Which one would look best?”
I pointed to the dark brown one and he threw it on his bed. He grabbed both of my hands and pulled me to my feet.
“Now my dear you must leave so I can get changed.” Charles said while pushing me out the door.
“Fine fine I’ll do the same.”
“If it is possible for you, be ready in an hour.” Charles said playfully as he smacked me in the bum to leave. He closed the door behind me.
I walked down the long hallway to my room. Since the estate was last renovated in the late 1800’s the Victorian décor had stayed; giving the old manor a ghostly feeling. The wall paper was a dark burgundy with an elegant French design. The dark wood furniture, although beautifully handcrafted, looked uninviting to sit upon and the pictures of my ancestors watched me from above as I made me way to my room. Floor creaked under the fleur de le rug when my foot exerted its pressure. I did not let my house frighten me though. If there were spirits determined to get me then they would have gotten me long ago. If there were any spirits then they were spirits of my forefathers protecting me from any harm. Convincing myself of that, I quickly made my way to my room and shut and locked the door behind me.
“Charlotte, where are you?”
A woman walked out of the walk in closet. She was a short older woman of about 50. She wore a simple light blue maid’s dress with a bonnet.
“I already picked out your clothes Miss. Mordret. They are on the bed.”
I turned toward the bed and frowned.
“I need something a bit fancier, I’ll be dining out for breakfast.”
“Yes Miss. Mordret.” Charlotte said as she hurried back into the closet.
I walked over to my vanity and sat down. I released my hair from the confinements of my braid and picked up the silver brush and ran in through my hair. Charlotte came out of the closet again with a red pencil skirt, a red jacket with gold thread around the pockets and gold buttons. I smiled and nodded at her selection. My long hair always posed an issue. Because of it thickness it was difficult to put it up in a bun.
I assessed myself in the mirror of my vanity. My long hair was neatly put up in a bun with a small red hat leaning slightly to the right of my head.
“It’s going to be a chilly day Miss. Mordret.”
I smiled and nodded; I paid no attention to what she said. It was difficult for me to pay attention to small talk. I was never good at it nor did I ever find a reason to do it.
My height always posed an issue to my egotism. I was the shortest in my family standing at a petite stature of 5 foot 2. I was the only one in my family that had an issue with height. My mother was 5 foot 10, my brother 6 feet and my late father 6 foot 4. My mother told me that men liked smaller women; I never found that believable. All of the film stars and singers were much taller than I and they had men crawling to their doorstep. I sighed and took one last look in the mirror before I took my purse and left.
My brother’s bright eyes followed me down the stairs. When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I twirled around playfully.
“So, how do I look?”
“It looks like you are trying to impress someone.” He said truthfully; my faced turned red.”
“I’m not; I just want to make a good first impression.”
“Why? Alec Ryder won’t go after a best mate’s sister.”
“I made no inkling that wanted him as a husband.”
“By the way your dressed, you don’t have to.”
I wanted to argue further but I knew I would get myself nowhere.
“Are we walking to his house or driving.”
“I was going to walk, but seeing your attire I think that we should take the car.”
I shook my head, I loved a good walk. I sat down at the foot of the stairs and removed my heels. Charles rolled his eyes.
“You can’t bloody be serious; you’ll get all muddy.”
“Well then, it will prove to you that I have no desire to make Alec Ryder fall in love with me.”
“What about your expensive jacket that mother got you form Paris?”
“They’re just clothes; pieces of cloth that one uses to hide flesh.”
Charles laughed and held out a hand to help me up. I gratefully took it and he pulled me up effortlessly.
“I never knew that my dear sister was so poetic.”
“They’re a lot of things you don’t know about me Charles.”
“I highly doubt that; you’re not that difficult to figure out.”
He received a punch on the arm; he frowned and rubbed the wound. I scoffed and took his hand to pull him towards the door.
“Oh you’re so fragile; come on, we’ll be late.”
“Fine, lead the way.”
We walked into the forest, mud squished in between my toes, laughing and talking about the weather. Inquires of Alec Ryder were ignored by my brother. Charles put his hands in his pockets.
“Why is it always so rainy in England? Couldn’t it stop raining for once?”
I frowned at his remark. He was obviously trying to change the subject. Why was he so uncomfortable talking about him?
“I don’t know, it’s been like this for thousands of years and it’s not likely to change on your behave Charles.”
“It’s been especially rainy this summer don’t you think?”
“Yes I suppose so, but I enjoy the rain.”
I said while looking up at the cloudy sky. The clouds were dark, indicating the upcoming storm.
“Why? The mood around here is so depressing; our house looks depressing, ever since father died, the world seems a bit darker.”
“We are at war Charles, everyone feels that way.”
“You know we will be 18 this August; that means I will be forced to enter the draft.”
I bit my bottom lip and squeezed my eyes tight; his words hit me like a bullet. I hated hearing about the draft. This was the one year that I was not looking forward to my birthday.
“Charles please don’t talk about this now.”
“I’m sorry Victoria, but you know-”
“Shut up Charles!” I hissed; I picked up my pace to get away from him. Charles caught up with me quickly.
“Don’t be angry with me please.”
“I wouldn’t be angry with you if you seized talking about the bloody draft.”
“Stop walking so damn fast.”
I complied and slowed down. I wasn’t completely and entirely upset with him; I could never hold a grudge for more than five minutes. Charles knew that so he gave me my space for a little while until we got to a mud pile that had formed from the previous rain.
“It’s too wide to walk around it.”
A smirk crept on Charles’ face. He bent down to remove his shoes and roll up his pant legs. I gave him a suspicious look.
“Charles don’t you dare push me in that mud pile.”
“No, I’m going to walk right through it.”
“Through that mud pile?”
He nodded and stepped right in; both his feet disappeared into the goop. I cringed in utter disgust and took a step back. Charles held his large hand out for me; I took another step back and shook my head in a child-like manner. Charles’ hand dropped to the side in annoyance. We stood in silence for a moment, his devious gaze made me nervous. Without a word of warning he came forward towards me and hugged me at the waist, throwing me like a rag doll over his shoulder.
“Charles Mordret you put me down this instant or I swear to God-”
“You’ll do what, annoy me to death?”
“No I will rip you’re bloody head from your body.”
“Oh I’m so scared.”
I hated Charles’ sarcasm, he was utterly frustrating.
When we reached the other side he let me down gently.
“You’re completely humiliating you know that?” I hissed as I threw him his shoes and his socks.
“Stop being such a child.”