"So, is there someone that takes care of the flowers?" He shook his head no and rested his hand on her stomach rubbing them around in soft circles. "There was someone once, but that was not until my family chased them away and forcefully took their land. They are well settled somewhere else though. But the flowers do grow on their own, funny enough they seem naturally used to the soil."
He held the horse on deeper into the valley and that was when Emilia saw it the grand splendor of winter flowers that despite the white filled earth, brought a mixture of colour. From the brightly yellow winter Jasmines that popped out of the ground to the purple violas that grew side by side. Winterberries stood their ground taking a certain portion of the vast fields and underneath them the pleasant smell of camellia filled the air. Poinsettias and calendulas formed a path that the horse lazily followed and as they neared the nothingness of whatever path they went on she couldnt help her eyes to the sweet pleasures or even her fingers from picking a single crocus whose purple shade was so dark it looked almost blue.
"That night of my drunken stupor," She began as the flower Hams Smith had given her come to mind. "I was assaulted by Hams Smith even after you banned him from the estates." His hand forze before they continued to draw circular motions on her thigh, and she sighed in bliss as she rested her back against his warm comforting chest. She had dared herself to never remember that day even if it was just a few hours ago. And if she was being truthful, it was most unbearable especially without her having anyone to talk to about the whole ordeal.
"I know, there was an eyewitness. A full account was reported to me, and he was dealt with. I would never allow anyone hurt you Emilia and you should feel no need of keeping anything from me, whatever it is even if it isnt to your liking. I should be the first to know and I will always protect you no matter what." There was a soft silence that followed after.
He tucked the blanket around her shoulders and helped her to her feet. The horse was left a few feet from where they stood and though it had no command, it stayed near its owner. "I was mad at you." He nodded. "I know," and kissed the cold knuckles of her fingers drawing her attention to his slightly puzzled face and she watched him as he struggled within himself, willing himself to say something.
"Why didn't you tell me who the chamber maid was? Why did you have to relieve them of their duties?" She felt him take in a deep cold shaky breath. "I feared the worst and I was only trying to protect her-"
"But not me? You would rather-"
"I would rather hide her identity and take the blame for my actions than expose the woman and have you tear her apart. Perhaps it was wrong on my part and for that I am terribly sorry." Emilia nodded. There was no point on reminiscing about the past, it had happened had it not? And she had given her chamber maid departing words of her never wanting to see her ever again and that was about all to it. She would have said she had handled the matter in an amicable manner.
They climbed a little hill in silence and even with its height, she was able to see the land far and beyond.
Not far in the distance, past the many trees that formed a natural fence for the Seymours stood a manor so grand it could have been mistaken for a castle. Its walls were built with nothing but fine stone and tapestries hanged by the sides in dull colours of dark blood red. The curtains however were closed shut and the grass as well as hedges of its fences were well overgrown.
It looked like the place had been abandoned for a very long time without even the slightest bit of care given to it.
"The Abbington's manor. They deserted it about three decades ago, though it is in direct heritage of lord Abbington." She touched his arm, and he allowed her warm embrace.
"If I might ask, why then does your mother entertain him if she knows that you and he arent on good talking terms?" He picked up a flower, one she couldn't identify and placed it in the thickness of her gloved hands. "Why else would he be here?" He was silent a moment reminiscing his past and his features contorted into a painful memory.
Perhaps she shouldn't have asked the question, it was too much of his privacy and she respected him enough if he didn't want to tell her and though she was curious she wasnt that curious. The fight between the two could have been caused by even the simplest of things such as a pint of beer, something that judging by the looks of it, the lord was capable of arguing over.
"It is more complicated than you think my love." His hands circled her and rested themselves on the lower regions of her tummy warming her small body with his large one.
"Um." She liked the feel of him on her.
"As it turns out he was in some sort of relations with my mother. Sexual ones to be exact."
"My word!" He chuckled. "I had a far worse reaction to it all." There was a sort of calm to his voice, as if he was grateful for the conversation yet again dreading the topic. His body stiffened with silent anger and when she looked him in the eyes, he seemed hurt, an emotion that was unlike him.
"I had found out a night after I had left home, this was during one of my father's numerous unannounced trips overseas. I had found them in such a compromising position that I did the first thing that came to mind, I threatened Abbington to leave my mother because I knew of what scandal it could create would word get out. I didnt want to bring shame to my mother and I wanted to I dont know prove to my father that I was worth it."
He let her go and at once a full gash of wind took hold of her.
"He offered a game, a game of chess that is knowing fully well I couldn't beat him at it and I took it, confident that I could beat him at his own game. You have to understand I was hurt and I wanted to hurt him where it hurt. I wanted to prove to my father that I was far better than he is but of course that corky bastard rigged the game. He knew he would win set it under the condition that it would be played only once."
The cold rage was back in his eyes and the man she had married at the alter stared at her.
"I lost, it ended up in a huge fight and yet after all efforts to avoid him and my mother, he still found his way back into my life. For whatever reason, he just never seems content with all he has especially seeing as he has a far greater fortune and inheritance than I do. And when word reached my father about the fight we had and not the so-called affair, he threatened to beat me up because as of that time my father and lord Abbington were very close associates. He accused me of falsely accusing lord Abbington, thereby tarnishing his reputation in the eyes of the young man."
"Well your father doesn't know what he lost. He chose him over you." She placed her hand on his. It was the only way she could show him affection. The only way she could relate to him even though both their pasts were somewhat similar.
"He wants the mine then. Your shares to it I mean." It was an after thought that came to mind. He nodded. "Lord Berrycloth refused to sell him more than the worth he has. And strangely," He let go of her and that was when Emilia was given the chance to look at the man she had married, the same man that had saved her just in time any deathly rumors could start.
He might not know it, but he had saved her from a far worse fate at the hands of her father and brother. Only heavens knew what their plans for her life would have been had a hasty marriage not taken place.
"Strange, he was given the same offer I was given, marrying you as well as buying shares to the mine and yet he declined it."
"Perhaps, he didnt see the mine's values then?" He shook his head no, before planting a kiss on her nose. "He only wanted the mine and not a wife attached to it or the mine didnt mean anything to him then. I cannot tell. Emilia your father gave you up when he offered shares to the mine alongside your hand for marriage."
"And you accepted." He nodded.
"And I accepted." Emilia hugged him.
Honestly, she couldn't be mad at him for taking up such an offer. They had both won in strange ways with her escaping a worse fate and him expanding his fortune.
He knew what he wanted even if it meant using her in the process and she, well she had married him hadn't she? He had protected her for five years and even given her a home, his last name, and a place in society even though their marriage wasn't at all perfect. Even though she hadn't bore him a child yet.
But perhaps there was still hope for them, perhaps the rumors of a divorce were simply just rumors to put fear in her heart.
Rumors because the ton thrived on them.
Rumors because they werent true.
But then again when she looked at him, those rumors didn't quite feel like rumors.
An odd feeling settled in the pits of her stomach.
By the time they reached the house, it was in full swing of preparations for the winter ball to be hosted that evening. The servants dusted and cleaned the great space in great multitude. Their legs run about the grand entrance trying to be as discreet as possible as well as still trying to get everything done in fear of her ladyship's anger.
Loud echoes danced on the walls, carrying the heavily rained insults from the mouths of the various paintings to each open space the horrid voices could fill. It wasnt in Emilia's place, but she found she was curious on knowing who was being shouted out, though she made no effort on eavesdropping.
She watched in quiet fascination as the dark red carpet was peeled off the wooden floors and replaced with one so lavishly elegant that each purple fibre with its unique design spoke of great massive wealth.
The railings of the stairs were dusted and decorated with pieces of strings of reds and blues and golds and silvers holding up baskets for the bouquets that were to come later on.
Scented candles in the form of baby white angels were placed in thoroughly polished chandeliers and lanterns. So thoroughly cleaned where they that her reflection stared her back in the eyes and with each burning of the candle's wick, the pleasing smells of grinded jasmines, lavenders and honeysuckles filled the air.
Overall, the atmosphere was coloured in warm welcoming tones of purple, matching the theme for the evening the beauty to behold at the purple palace.
Anticipation and dread filled her stomach, and she wondered what dishes were to be cooked that night, perhaps a boar's head with stuffings around his mouth and sides, or roasted lamb with cranberry juice and sizzled sprouts. There was the open option of peacock since the family was wealthy enough to display it and pies were a dish not to be missed.