The Little Wife

Chapter 2

It's smaller than the Glover's Family mansion but it was much more intimidating. Once she got inside, her grandmother had commanded the maid to clean her up and prepare her for a busy day tomorrow, as she had hired tutors and teachers to teach her proper manner to make sure she had the bearing of a lady when the time comes to introduce her to the society.

After that she had spent a month learning, day and night, without anytime to even grieve for her father. She had to put her mind in her studies or else her hand will be smacked red with a long wooden ruler. There was no time for her to grieve or even to be herself, 16 years old Kathleen Hepburn, a girl who had just lost her father, even when she was alone in her bedroom. She can never forgot how she had cried the night her father was buried only to be scolded by her grandmother the next day, saying that she should have sleep, instead of crying for nothing.

After a month her grandmother had deem that she was ready to be introduced to the real society, she had chosen the day while commenting coldly "you should be grateful that I have decided to introduce you and not hidden you from the world, no matter how dirty you are", the words had anger her, but she was helpless as she had no one else but her grandparent, but even when her grandmother had noticed how her face paled, she continue to say "even though you have your father dirty blood, it was good that you did not inherits his simple mind, to be able to learn proper manner in such a short time, I have a high hope for you, do not disappoint me."

That day she had stood and smile all days, even when her muscles screams at her to relax, she still force herself to smile and look pretty as her grandparent introduce he to people of high-profile. She did not want to disappoint them, she was afraid of the consequences of disappointing them. What if she let them down and decides to kick her out, she'll be homeless and most importantly alone. So she endure and try her best to please them but even then it's not enough, when talking to one of her grandfather business associate, she had said the wrong thing, she had introduce herself as Kathleen Hepburn instead of Ruston. Her grandfather had turn red with fury and she immediately had excused herself, running away to the remote part of the garden where the lights do not touch her and the sound of the gossiping crowd do not reach her.

She was hyperventilating, anxious and afraid, crouching behind the bushes of red chrysanthemum. Her eyes are red and her skin pale from exhaustion and stress, before James Glover, her father employer, hands in her shoulder, looking purposeful and grim, lead her to a bench.

"Hello, darling," His voice woke her up from her trance, like dark velvet over gravel, and  although she knew that it was filled with nothing but pity had sent a shudder of awareness up her spine, causing her to look up and saw his face up close.

He had seemed surprised when she finally decides to face him, he had faltered at the sight of her face and frowned in confusion, brows scrunched and jaws tightened causing her to worry about her appearance. She had been wearing a simple black dress, with A line skirt and black ribbons as the straps. The dress had been her father last present, it was for her fifteen birthday, a few weeks before the devastating diagnosis. It was one of the very few things she had been able to bring from her old home and the only thing from her that her grandmother deem presentable enough to be worn by a girl of her "status".

Her hair was swept into an elegant chignon by the maids. It was pulled so tightly, it hurts, just to make sure it looks neat and good enough for her grandmother approval. She had chosen only a simple black bow that sparkles like midnight stars under the sunlight, as her only embellishments. Although, she had looked simple and average, but she liked how she looks.

Kathleen, for her part, had been completely riveted by the splendid man of her dream who stood in front of her, She had tilted her head back to stare at him in wonder, tracing every angle, line and curve of his face in awe and fascination. Kathleen had never forgotten that face, it was the face that haunt her dreams. She had never look at him up close, the closest she had gotten was when she had to hide behind the limo, peeking at the man that had come to talk to her father about cars and things she did not understand. He was still handsome, and she for the first time in many months, the grief and sadness had deserted her, momentarily forgotten. She was given a reprieve from the world in the form of this beautiful man. She had been unable to utter a single word, and all she could do was to gasp.