Hi everyone,
This chapter is a bit longer than the others. Hope you enjoy.
Xx
After spending weeks in America, my fiance, returned to England. Unexpectedly, he appeared at my family home and dragged me to his estate on the outskirts of Manchester. It was a lovely home, no doubt, but the man occupying it was a monster.
"Adeline, why aren't you wearing any of the costly dresses I bought for you? How can I be seen with you when you're practically wearing rags, my dear?" Charles scoffed in disgust. I was wearing the dress Thomas sent me for my birthday and to me, it was nicer than any of the overpriced dresses Charles bought for me in France or America.
"Charles, the dresses you give me don't suit Birmingham. I think you forget that we come from different social classes," I responded, opening another box he brought from his trip. Ever since he met me, Charles showered me with items I didn't want or need. He was attempting to buy my love, but he would never be successful.
"I want you to wear the dress I bought you to the horse race tomorrow." Charles grinned as we shared a cup of tea in the sitting room of his grand home. It was evident that he was born into wealth, but I was encountering many difficulties adapting to his luxurious lifestyle.
"My dear, we'll pick you up in the morning," Charles whispered, planting a soft kiss on my cheek. I wondered about the man I would marry. He was occupied with his business, playing polo, and travelling. I hardly knew him. It was enough for him that I had a pretty face and an ideal figure, as he called it. I would be his arm candy, and that's all that mattered to him.
~~~
Before voyaging to the horseraces, I slipped on the dress Mr. Shelby gave to me. I felt like a goddess and it would serve as a message to Charles. As much as I dreaded being Charles's trophy for a day, I was eager to watch the races and enjoy the sweet sun!
"My darling, is that what you're wearing?" Charles groaned, greeting me with contempt. It was not the welcome I expected from my future husband, but I brushed it off and listened to him ramble about his polo game. I was to sit like a lady and have my ear talked off.
Charles and I prowled the grounds of the racetrack, where he couldn't have been prouder to call me his fiancee. I hated being surrounded by the stiff, upper-class. I wasn't aware of their mannerisms and I spoke differently. The men didn't care, but their wives gave me dirty glares. I felt like an object, and it made my stomach turn.
Inside the gorgeous betting den, Charles placed a few bets. Free from his grasp, I took in all the top hats and feathers around me. It was different from the peaked caps and dusty shoes of Birmingham. I knew my people were betting outside, separated from the wealthy.
"Come here!" Charles shouted through a whisper as he pulled me towards him. He treated me like a child. I had to stay within his arm's reach.
To briefly escape again, I made my way to the lavatory, where I peeked outdoors. While watching everyone find their seats, a familiar face in the distance caught my eye.
"Thomas Shelby," I whispered under my breath, surprised to see him walking the grounds of the racetrack. I tried to stare at him for as long as I could, but a group of men encircled him, blocking my view. I longed to see his chiselled cheekbones and plump lips once more, so when Charles and I made our way to the stands, I scanned the seats, hoping to find Mr. Shelby.
"You know, my darling, I think we should get married in December. Don't you think a winter wedding would be marvellous?" Charles dropped a bomb on me. Not only did I avoid wedding planning, but I avoided wedding talk. It caused me to grow nauseous. December was a few months away. There was no way I was marrying him that soon.
"Winter? I hate the winter!" I gasped, dreading the ideas of snow, ice and spending the rest of my life with a man I didn't love.
"Well, we would marry and we could vacation in France." Moving our wedding earlier was not on my agenda. Neither was going to France.
"I went to France with my first wife. She adored it!" On top of being a bore, Charles was previously married, and he had children. His daughters were a few years younger than me and we didn't get along.
"I'm not vacationing in a country where my father and my brother died. It would be toiling on me!" I cried. Instead of offering sympathy or understanding, Charles scoffed at my remark and proposed another foolish idea.
"Well, we wouldn't be going to the battlefields or the cemetery, for goodness sake! Don't you think you can manage Paris?" Tears swelled in my eyes. His selfish remark replayed in my head as I nodded, not wanting to cause a scene. When the horses took their marks and darted around the track, I was quiet, knowing further words from my lips would disrupt Charles as he studied the race.
Even though the race was fascinating, I couldn't remove Charles's egotistical remark from my head. Could I manage Paris? Probably, but I didn't want to set foot in France. I'm sure it was beautiful, and I heard pleasant things about its people, but going to France would cause a worsening ache in my heart.
"May I get a drink in the parlour? All this sun is making me light-headed." I asked Charles, squinting at the horses. He was so immersed in the race. I had to beg for a response.
In the quiet lobby, I collected my thoughts by admiring the artwork of the horses that covered the walls. However, the peacefulness quickly vanished as upper class men and women stormed into the parlour, cheering in victory. The ones who lost their bets had long faces, and I tried not to giggle. I wondered if Charles won or lost.
"Miss Yardley?" An intrigued, raspy voice remarked, catching me off guard. Standing beside me in a beige tweed suit with shiny boots was Arthur Shelby. I didn't know him well, but I felt at ease recognizing a face in the crowd.
"I'm here with my fiance," I whispered, embarrassed as the words escaped my lips.
"Oi! Which one of these lucky bastards is your finance then, eh?" Arthur giggled, trying to make me feel comfortable, but instead, I was ashamed. My eyes scanned the room for Charles. Charles would have a conniption if he saw me socializing with the opposite gender.
"Err, the man who is walking in. He's my fiance." I was hesitant to point out Charles. My eyes fell to the ground in pure humiliation.
"The man with the cigar? Eh?" Arthur snickered, impressed with my choice of men. However, the tall man with the cigar hanging from his mouth was not my fiance. I gently motioned to Charles, who made his way to the bar with his top hat in his arm. He looked much older with his hat off.
"Oi!" Arthur gasped, catching a glimpse of Charles. I knew he was surprised and was trying to mask his disbelief with a fake smile.
"He looks established!" He remarked, sensing my embarrassment. Sure, Charles looked established. That was polite, for he looked old. Arthur offered me a cigarette, and I took it, hoping to calm my nerves.
"You don't strike me as a girl who likes the races!" Arthur chuckled.
"No... But, I adore horses." I mumbled, deeply inhaling from my fag. I noticed Charles approaching and I tried to hint at Arthur to leave, but instead, he lit another smoke.
"Adeline, where did you go, my darling? I was worried about you!" Charles exclaimed, giving Arthur a cold stare. Instead of replying, I introduced him to Arthur, who decided to leave Charles and me alone. I agreed. Tension was already erupting between us.
"Adeline!" Charles spat through gritted teeth the moment Arthur left. Before I could say anything, Charles grabbed me by the arm and forcefully dragged me down the hallway, which was more private than the lobby.
"What do you think you're doing? Running off, smoking with a man!" He hissed, squeezing my arms tighter, wanting me to feel his wrath. I had always predicted that Charles had a nasty side to his personality, but seeing it was different.
"I told you, I needed some water." My answer wasn't what Charles craved.
"That man is a friend. A friend of my brother's from the war!" I cried, hoping his nails would stop digging into my skin. However, my words were useless. The moment I felt the bitter sting of rage and jealousy against my cheek, I realized there was nothing I could say to level with him.
"You stay with me and do as I say!" Charles screeched, his face full of fury. His yellow eyes burned into me, but I was not going to express my pain.
"I will not!" With that, Charles harshly squeezed my jaw and cheeks between his simmering fingers. Rage poured out of his eyes, and I wish I never said what I did, especially when he struck me again, this time, with the side of his walking cane.
Before Charles could strike me once more, I rushed to the lady's room, afraid of the man I would marry. I splashed cold water on my face to alleviate the blistering sting, and I let my emotions loose. In the mirror, I saw a frightened young woman living in a cloud of sorrow. I lost two of the most important and loving men in my life, my father and my brother, and instead of gaining a loving man, I was getting a monster for a husband.
With a brave face, I entered the hallway where Charles waited for me. I crossed my fingers, hoping he realized his behaviour was inexcusable, but I was wrong.
"My horse lost today." He mumbled as if I should forgive him for hitting me. He wouldn't get away with this. I hurried to the lobby, where eyes would be on us. He wouldn't dare strike me in front of the wealthy.
The moment I turned the corner, I locked eyes with a familiar face in the distance. It was Thomas Shelby. Dressed in black and white, and sipping on dark whiskey with his brothers, he stared at me with a hint of desire in his eyes. I wanted to talk with him, but Charles would have killed me.
The second I looked away from Mr. Shelby, I bit my lower lip. I was hungry for Thomas's presence. Just as thought of rushing towards him, slowly strolled towards me, never taking his big blue eyes off of my body.
"Miss Yardley." Thomas firmly greeted, slightly turning his head in shock. As Arthur said, I didn't seem like a girl who fancied the races.
"Mr. Shelby, it's a surprise to find you here." I smiled, hoping to see the burning desire in his eyes again.
"Is it?"
"Yes. I mean-" Before I could finish my sentence, Charles cut me off, joining the conversation with no respect for anyone.
"And who are you?" Charles demanded as he looked Thomas up and down, trying to be superior. Thomas was silent for a moment. He studied Charles with caution before responding.
"I can ask you the same question?"
"I am Mr. Charles Darcy of Manchester. Have you ever heard of Darcy Textiles?" Charles fussed. Arrogance poured out of his mouth when he spoke, and his behaviour towards Thomas was unwarranted.
"I have not." Thomas firmly responded, instantly disliking Charles.
"Now, why don't you answer my question?" Charles seethed, placing a firm hand on Thomas's shoulder.
"Don't touch me," Thomas warned, pointing at Charles. I abhorred even standing beside such a cocky prick.
"Who are you?" Charles spat through clenched teeth. I watched him pull back his walking stick. The skin on his knuckles turned white as he squeezed the head of his cane tight, relieving some rage.
"I own the winning horse." Thomas calmly announced. As much as I wanted to socialize with him, I would never recover from the shame and embarrassment my fiance caused me.
"The owner?" Charles repeated, laughing off Thomas's response as he didn't believe him.
"Well, Mr. Darcy. I suggest you bet on my horse next time." Thomas slyly responded, offering Charles a devilish smile.
"Now, do you mind if I give your fiancee a tour of the stables?" Thomas asked Charles like a gentleman, but Charles didn't have much choice in his response. Arthur and a group of men sent daggers at Charles with their eyes, warning him not to agitate Thomas further.
With that, Thomas offered me his arm and led me through the crowd to the hallway.
"That's your fiance?" Thomas laughed. I was relieved that he was not enraged over the way Charles treated him. He had every right to be upset, but instead, he brushed it off.
"Unfortunately!" I chuckled, trying to make light of the situation. Putting my arm down, Thomas stopped me in my steps and changed the subject to something more serious.
"I saw him hit you, Adeline. I saw him strike you with his stick as if you were an animal!" Thomas bellowed, frustrated with Charles's behaviour. When I didn't respond, Thomas looked into my eyes and saw that I was hurting inside.
"Did he like the dress?" Thomas whispered, gently feeling my dress's silky material.
"No." I breathed, studying him as he admired the dress he gave me wrapped around my body. I wanted him to feel the dress against my skin and to feel every bend and curve of my body, but that was wishful thinking.
"Bad taste then, eh?" Thomas smirked as his fingers reached for the sheer material on the dress's short, puffed sleeve. I watched as his gentle fingers fumbled with the lace. His touch sent warm sensations through my body as his hand slowly crept up to my neck and my cheek. I relished being under his fingertips. I craved his touch from the day I met him, and now that I had it, I only wanted more.
When Thomas's thumb grazed over my cheek, he stepped closer to me, closing the gap between us. I couldn't help but softly sigh as I inhaled his aftershave mixed with tobacco. It was pure euphoria.
"Adeline," Thomas whispered as he gently ran his thumb over my cheek where Charles Struck me.
"Do you love him?" He added. The moment he cupped my cheek in his hand, I felt like I knew him forever.
"I don't know the man. My engagement was arranged by my brother Jack, for money." I confessed.
"He's a devil, Adeline. My sister, Ada worked in his textile factory before the war. She said he hit some of the girls." I believed every word that poured out of Thomas's mouth. It was freighting, but I didn't know what to do.
"Do not fucking marry him." Thomas sternly warned, letting go of my cheek.
"So, you really own the winning horse?" I asked Thomas, changing the conversation as we walked towards the stables, where men and women pampered the racehorses.
"Ello, Tommy!" An older gentleman cheered as he stroked an elegant stallion, brushing its shiny, black hair.
"This is my, my stable boy, Curly. He's the best in Birmingham with horses." Curly smiled away, adoring the black beauty. I didn't blame him. Thomas owned a lovely stallion. I couldn't imagine how much the horse earned him, especially when the beast won a race.
"Do you ride, Miss Yardley?" Thomas asked as we admired the magnificent creature.
"Naturally," I snickered. I couldn't believe I was stroking his prized horse.
"Do you want to ride him?" Curly asked as the stallion kissed my hand, taking a liking to me. I didn't have much choice. Thomas instantly hopped on the horse's back, saddle free. With the help of Curly, I was straddling the beast, with my arms wrapped around Thomas's slender torso. A sensual feeling brewed in my chest that made me believe there was a good man for me in this world.
"You have to hold on tight, Miss Yardley," Thomas addressed me as he tightened my hold around him. I adored the sensation horseback riding brought. I was free.
I hoped to learn more about Thomas. I wanted to know about his childhood and his life before the war. I aspired to meet his family and learn about his joys and fears. I craved to step into his world and have a taste of the freedom that he owned.
"James told me that you adore horses. Is that true?"
"Yes. I could never capture a horse's grace on paper, though." It was true. I couldn't compose a horse if my life depended on it.
"My brother Michael was exquisite with horses," I remembered the days where Michael would take me riding with him on our mare. I always felt alive straddling a horse. There was something special about it. I felt the same way riding with Thomas.
"I wish I met him." I sighed at Thomas's sincere response. I wish he knew Michael and my father too.
We continued to travel on the horse, relishing the beauty of the land. Even though there was silence between us, there was no need for words. Thomas was an exceptional rider, and my head was finally clear.
Back at the stables, Thomas assisted me off of the horse and I had to adjust to the feeling of walking again. The freedom I endured riding the horse vanished when Thomas and I entered the lobby.
With my arm looped around another man's, I was entering a danger zone. Even though it terrified me, I was overcome with bliss. I didn't care if Charles saw me with another man. I wanted him to see me. I wanted him to see how delighted I was with Tommy. Maybe then Charles would decide not to marry me. I could only hope.