The Life of Amelia Barnette

I Am A Puppet, My Mother Pulls The Strings.

A crack in the curtains guided a small sliver of sunlight down on my face, the warmth stirring me from my sleep. I rubbed my eyes and brought myself up into a seating position, looking about my room. It was a small room. Some might call it quaint but to me, it was just a place to sleep, nothing more. A knock at my door brought me back from my thoughts and I called out for them to enter. In came two of my maids. Minnie and Ida, their arms filled with bedsheets and dresses.

"Good morning, m'lady. How are you feeling this morning?" Minnie asked, already heading to make my bed.

"Such unexpected news for you indeed, m'lady. You must be feeling all sorts of things." Ida chimed, her hands clutching my dresses, eyes drifting around the room as she slowly made her way towards me.

"Ida, don't say such daft things. Of course, she'll be feeling all sorts of things. She just got informed she was to marry a stranger."

"Don't speak to me like a child, Minnie. I'm just excited is all. Do you have a dress picked out, Amelia? Oh my, I bet he's handsome." Giggling began to form between the two as they compared ideas of who would be the best-suited gentleman for me.

In truth, as I stood there, arms outstretched, letting Minnie tug down a petticoat and Ida roll up my stockings, I realized I knew next to nothing about my husband to be. He was duke; that was apparent, and he had lost his first wife, to what, I wasn't sure, but I knew pestering my mother would do me no good. I would have to ask my maids to snoop around. A knock at the door caused us to freeze, Ida got up and went to answer it as Minnie finished fastening the ties to the back of my dress.

"Finally. How long does it take to open a door? Now move out of my way. Amelia, you have too much to do today other than to fidget with your thumbs and stare in the mirror!"

Mother stormed around the door, her hands stretched out, eyes looking for me. Landing on the dress I had been freshly placed in, her nose scrunched up.

"I suppose that will have to do for our outing. Come now. I made the servants write invitations last night to all the important guests in the town. We must deliver them today if we are to give everyone time to prepare. Your father, bless his soul, knows nothing of weddings and seems to think a week is more than enough time to plan. My goodness, look at this hair, what is the point of hiring help when I have to do everything myself."

She pulled me down onto the chair at my makeup table. I looked up at the mirror and watched as mother undid the hair that had been neatly tied up. My dark brown strands fell in voluminous waves around my shoulders, ending at the base of my waist. As mother placed bobby pin after bobby pin into my hair, I watched and compared our looks, wondering where on earth I got my features from. Mothers hair was a light brown, almost auburn colour. In the right lighting, some might even call it red. It was a beautiful sight that seemed to change with every movement she made. She had a round face, plump cheeks, yet a slender silhouette, her collar bones peeking out from the ruffles of her dress. Her eyes were the most noticeable feature on her face, beside her plump, red-tinted lips. They were a vibrant blue that almost matched the sky on a summer's day. Not another colour mixed with the blue, its solid form standing confidently concentrated as she finished pinning up the last strand of my hair.

"There. Now you're acceptable in society's eyes. Come, grab your shawl and meet me in the carriage outside. We have no time to waste."

Mother elegantly rushed out, her skirts half-wittedly catching up with her as she left through the door. Minnie went to fetch my shawl while Ida finished lasing up my polished leather shoes. All was quiet in the room for fear that mother would return with pestering remarks. I looked back into the mirror; the memory of my mother's features was strong in my mind. I looked at the long waves of my dark hair. It could almost be seen as black as the sun's beaming rays caressed the inky strands. Contrary to my mother's belief, my skin was not as tan as one of the workers out in the fields. It was a light, olive tone, standing pale next to my gloomy hair. My cheekbones stood out slightly, my face more chiselled than mothers, but not too much as if to give off masculine features. My lips were not as plump as mothers, though they sat in a satisfying shape on my face. My eyes were hooded, their lashes hiding the eerie green that sat in-between them. The colour of my eyes was an abnormality compared to mothers and fathers who bore the common blue and brown shades. Mine, however, seemed to harbour every natural colour on earth, with browns, yellows, blues and most of all green mixing around the pupil. From far away it was just a basic dark green, but up close, not one colour stood apart from the rest.

"Alright, m'lady. All done. Best not keep Mrs Barnette waiting now."

"Thank you, Minnie. Thank you, Ida. You are always a blessing to me."

They curtseyed their thanks and sped away, around and out the bedroom door. I pulled the shawl tightly around my shoulders and lifted my skirts, walking out towards the front door where the carriage stood along the gravel driveway. Two horses kicked at the ground, their bodies connected to the frame. They nuzzled each other's mouths, their brown, freckled coats beaming in the afternoon sun.

"Hurry along Amelia, we really don't have all day."

The coachman got down from his seat and held out a hand, helping me onto the plush seating. Lashing out the reins and yelling at the horse, we began our journey into town, the carriage rocking like a boat departing from the docks and out into the vast ocean. The roaring of the waves crashing against the cliffs that I knew so well vanished into the distance, an eerie silence of unknown futures and difficult decisions wafted through the air. Excitement was the most unexpected thing to feel in a time like this, yet it stood there, as bright as ever, racking my emotions. I was leaving a sense of familiarity and departing into a new advantage, one unbeknownst to me or anyone for that matter. For the first time, my life was in my hands. I am about to be wed to a man, a duke. That would make me the lady of the house, a Duchess. I would finally have the power to make my own decisions. As long as my husband to be, is willing...