Arranged Marriage
He knocked on the door briskly while she sat out of sight on the window seat reading a letter she had gotten a week before. She read it over a dozen times holding the worn letter between her fingertips; it was almost her only means of survival now at times such as these. Michelle heard her father answer the door while the Colin knocked. She quickly folded up the letter and hid it in her journal hiding it behind blue and gold silk pillows that adorned the window seat. She stood just as her father came in, “Michelle, Colin is here for you.” He said smiling.
“Very well.” She replied with a gentle nod.
Colin walked in after her father had left, her father leaving the door open a few inches so he could eavesdrop on his daughter’s happiest moment of her life thus far. “Here, I brought you some flowers.” He said handing them over to her as if he couldn’t wait to get rid of them with the tone of fake enthusiasm.
“Thank you Colin, the roses are very gracious of you. The pink ones are especially beautiful around this season.” She said burying her face in them inhaling their scent trying to remain composed, you know what is next Michelle; try not to cry out in agony and distress, this is what mother would have wanted. She moved to set them on the table beside the piano. “Would you like a seat, Colin?” she asked quietly.
“No, that won’t be necessary.” He said simply, and she swore she saw him sneak a glance at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room.
She nodded watching him as he started to kneel on his knee and pull out a small black box. She hid a fake smile behind her hand gasping, tears started to develop in her eyes. The start of the end of my life… She saw him look up at her with a fake smile as he opened up the little black box he held in his hand, a ring, a shinning emerald on a small silver band. “I know our courtship was originally planned by our parents, but over the past few months I must admit I am now admirably and unconditionally in love with you…” he started. Michelle couldn’t help but think, Liar, we both know you hate me. I overheard you talking to Jacques. “Will you marry me?” he asked insistently looking at her as if he had to ask her more than once.
Michelle nodded smiling not being able to say the words as he took her hand in his and slipped ring on her finger. She looked at it examining it, holding it to the window seeing the jewel shine. How could something so dazzling bode such an ill future?
“Do you like it?” Colin asked glancing at the clock once again as he stood rolling back and forth on the balls on his feet as she had noticed from the corner of her eye.
Michelle forced herself to look at him and smile as a few more silent tears rolled down her cheeks, “I love it.” She whispered choking out a sob.
Colin looked at her for a few unsure awkward seconds before her father burst through the door ready to intervene with happy praise as Michelle stood to receive her father’s kisses on each cheek, “I’m so happy for you. If only your mother was here to see you two, the happy couple.”
“Thank you father.” She said trying to smile graciously. Happy? Our acting must be very convincing then.
It seemed forever until she had a moment to herself, her father talked about starting to make plans for the wedding, and all the customs that came with it, recalling the time he had gotten married to her mother. “A dinner must be planned by your Aunt Hilda, we must introduce him to the rest of the family, same with your mother too, Colin. Same thing happened when her mother and I had gotten married”, he recalled. “Isn’t there such nonsense about colors of the dresses as well and even the month best suited for marriage?” he asked looking at his daughter.
“Yes, father there is….” Michelle replied and the next few minutes went by in blur as the reality finally sank in. More casual talk of wedding plans as her father tried to figure things out, and the receiving of the first awkward kiss from Colin as he walked out soon after, saying he had a previous engagement that he absolutely must occupy his time with.
When he was gone and her father once again kissed her forehead and wished her all his happiness, but she felt like she was going to burst. She grabbed her journal from behind the pillows leaving the flowers on their table, not really caring if they wilted or not. She closed the door behind her quickly leaning against it slowly sinking to the ground. Her dress and petticoats soon pooled around her, her tears intermingling once again with the crimson fabric of her dress. She was betrothed to him of all people, him of all people. She looked at the ring on her finger, married to the handsome man with cruel eyes, heart and hands to match as well, the secret raging drunk. The deal, dreadful deed demanded of her by both parents. Intermingle the families and become one of “higher society.” Her dying mother’s wish: two have the first born male and female of her family and her best friend’s family marry each other. How lucky were they for her friend to have twin boys, and five years later that her parents were to have her. She looked at the ring on her finger once again the emerald shining in the candle light of the dark room. “How can something as beautiful as this ring bode such an ill future? Arranged Marriage.” She cried bitterly, “Why couldn’t Jacques have been born first?” she wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. She opened the journal with one hand and pulled out the letter and unfolded it once more reading once again.
Dear Michelle,
It’s cruel fate that I could not have been born first. I say this with such regret because I must admit I am quite smitten, taken away by your beauty. By the time I give you this letter I’m pretty sure you will be engaged, if not…it kills me to write this…say yes. My parents refuse to allow me to intervene between Colin and you, lest I disturb your happiness, my brother’s happiness, and both of our reputations ruined. I could not love you like you truly deserve, but we could try. Forgive me for being so forward but I have noticed the secret glances you’ve given me as of late. The way you’d peer at me from behind the safety of your fan, then you’d always look away blushing. If you feel the same way as I do, as I hope you do, tell me with that fan language you ladies always seem to be communicating with, or something more discreet of your choosing. If however you love Colin I wish you the best of luck in your marriage as I only want you to be happy, but no matter what burn this letter before anyone can find it.
Sincerely,
Jacques
