Our story would start in one of the most affluent towns in The Town: Wickhurst.
Located in the south, Wickhurst was a town that prided itself on its woods which were rare to find anywhere in The Town. There were very few wooden areas that allowed entrance to the public, but Wickhurst's was the safest and liveliest of all. The others were simply too dangerous if not privately owned.
But apart from its brighter lights, grander holes, parks, and mining sites, Wickhurst was known for the same things as other equally successful towns such as Willowfair in the west. Social etiquette was still given highest import and social standing a paramount thing.
The people were generally content, but like all the other towns around Town, Wickhurst had its own share of scandals and interesting stories to tell. Yes, the people were graceful and kind, but only a few could be as wicked as the Everards.
One could say that to be employed by one of the richest families in Wickhurst would be an honor, most exceedingly so if the said family were the Everards.
Now, the Everards hailed not a history of rags-to-riches. They were born to it, or rather, came down with it. Their family was among the first who came with the Founders belowground centuries ago. So you see, they came down with their wealth and have thus far maintained their status in The Town.
They were the first of only a few families who discovered the mining sites around The Town. Growing their wealth with precious jewels, the Everards were the best in producing exquisite and elegant pieces of jewelry worn by many all over and no one had dared question their wealth. Everyone wanted to be friends with them and everyone wanted to sire their heirs.
But it seemed that the present Everard line was on the brink of slow death for the eight children seemed to not be in a hurry to bear their living mother, Lady Alice Everard, a grandchild. And to make matters worse, the children believed that the future of the governess was far more of import than finding a husband or a wife of their own.
"You are both coming out this season, dears, you will no longer need Agatha."
The two youngest Everard children, Emma and Ysabella, snapped their heads at their mother, eyes wide with horror. "But, mother!" they both chorused, aghast. "Agatha has merely been with us for over a year!" cried Emma.
Ysabella followed with, "She barely taught us anything thus far!"
"You've learned enough for the many years and the many governesses that came and went. You can both do well if you do not go running around like children," their mother said with ease and calmness as though her two daughters' latest mischief did not cost her a carriage, its wheel and one missing horse.
Agatha simply remained silent in one corner, her lips lifting into a hidden smile. She would not have wanted to be called a governess for she was but a mere servant before her former mistress, Mary Haverston from Willowfair, who provided her with tutors for a higher education.
Governesses were ladies born into a life of gentry, ladies who found a need to earn money for some reason. She, on the other hand, was a servant who found a great need for money. She would have loved to be called a tutor, not a governess. And she knew the twins were very much aware of that as well. She had not given them a ton of lessons on proper manners or decorum. She never scolded them on how to use the different forks or knives on the table for she knew they were better at it than her. But she was very knowledgeable of many other things such as arithmetic and science, but unfortunately, the twins had no interest in them although they had great potential.
Emma and Ysabella Everard were not really twins. They were born merely nine months apart with Emma as the youngest. Lady Alice had feared that the youngest of the Everard children would die when she came out two months shorter than expected. But alas, the ever adventurous, witty and loud Emma lived and started causing havoc with her older sister, Ysabella. Everyone referred to them as twins and they seemed not to mind. They did look alike save for a few distinct differences in their features. Both had black hair and emerald eyes as all Everard children, but Emma had a slimmer face while Ysabella's was a bit fuller around the edges.
"The two of you need to find a husband on your second or third season," Lady Alice's voice was saying, drawing Agatha's attention back inside the large Everard parlor.
"She needs to find a husband first," Ysabella pointedly said, waving her hand at their eldest sister, Margaret, who was sitting with a book in hand. Margaret, like Agatha, was past the marrying age at seven and twenty.
The lady's beauty was far better than anyone Agatha had ever seen—black hair and emerald eyes consistent with all Everard children, delicate nose, well-shaped brows and radiant skin not so often seen around The Town—that she often had to wonder whether Margaret did not just wish to marry at all. The lady could have had anyone she wished to marry. Surely, there was someone who would want to be part of the Everards?
"I don't think I am—" Margaret started to say but Emma interjected with, "We need not marry, really," rolling her eyes. "We do have the brothers to sire as many heirs for the titles."
"Well, at least not yet," Ysabella voiced, standing to her feet. "Which is why there is still need for Agatha."
"She can be my lady companion," Margaret suggested, her eyes twinkling at the idea. "Agatha, would you like to be my companion?"
"But she will be our companion if she opts to be a companion!" Emma cried out.
"Emma, your voice," Agatha said, breaking her silence. "And I do agree that my service as a governess is no longer required for the both of you," she addressed the twins.
"But, Agatha!" they both whined.
"You are both seventeen and are to come out this season, ladies," Agatha told them in a very calm voice. "I do not think there is a place for me here any longer."
"But you can be my companion as I have said," Margaret said. "I will need a companion."
Lady Alice sighed loudly. "I believe we have gone completely off topic. I believe we were talking about the eligible bachelors in Wickhurst before these two decided to veer the conversation yet again." She narrowed her eyes at the twins. "And you will need a husband."
"You mean only one husband? And we shall share him? Mother, I cannot believe you would think of such a thing! Surely there are enough gentlemen around The Town!" Ysabella cried out in mock horror.
"That is not what I meant!" Lady Alice's shrilling voice made everyone wince. She fanned herself with her hand. "You children are killing me."
"I believe murder is the least of our—"
"Emma," Agatha warned, shaking her head. The girl closed her mouth and huffed. "I may opt to find a different employer when the season starts."
"Agatha!" everyone except Lady Alice cried.
"What is the matter?" a voice asked from the doorway. All black heads turned, including Agatha's auburn one. "What?" The eldest of all the eight Everard children, Benedict, scanned the room with his piercing green eyes, an eyebrow cocked high in question. His eyes hovered over Agatha for but a mere second, acknowledging and dismissing her presence all the same, before he veered his eyes back to his mother and sisters.
"We were talking about why you are still unmarried," Margaret lied. "Because you ought to be married, you know."
"But I am to be married," Benedict uttered, his voice serious, his rectangular jaw hard as it always seemed to be and the white scars on his face almost translucent under the light of the parlor. His thick brows were slightly raised as though he was expecting his family to laugh at his statement but none did that for everyone might still be on the process of considering whether he was trying to jest or not.
And Agatha was among them. For the nearly two years she had been with the Everards, she could count on her fingers still the moments when Benedict had tried to be comical. And it was with great regret to say that none of those moments caused anyone to react with spontaneous laughter or amusement. As the eldest of the Everards, and as the master of the mansion, Benedict Everard, Lord of Devonshire, was regarded by almost everyone to be too boring and dry.
His scarred face, which was always set too hard, did not help how people perceived him, nor did he try to change their opinions for he was not one who would find many words to say to anyone. In fact, Agatha never had a reason to talk to him unless there was a chance. She knew her rightful place in the household and talking to the lord of the manor was not one of them. And it was not as though Benedict Everard had tried to engage her in a conversation. She could, again, count on her fingers and toes the moments when he had turned his head at her and asked her a direct question. And all those questions were always about his youngest sisters. He did not know anything about her and she had somehow led others to believe that she did not wish to find out more about him than what she already knew even though everything about Benedict Everard was curious indeed. Questions that ranged from how he acquired his scars, a topic never discussed within the household, to how he could spend an entire day without talking were enough to keep her awake some nights.
Mayhap one of the many reasons Benedict Everard would never be found charming at all was the fact that he never tried to be. He was domineering in many ways. He rarely raised his voice, but his words could be as piercing as his eyes most days. He rarely tolerated incompetence, foolishness and ignorance. He would be irked when one would not know what he was talking about.
He was the only one in his family who took matters too seriously, really. His other brothers were no different from the others. And it was only Benedict Everard whom his family feared, his mother most definitely included. A simple gesture of his hand could silence everyone and one glance could turn the twins mute for hours.
So mayhap that was why he was never considered a charmer as his other brothers were. After all, he had been the Lord of Devonshire for too long that it may have rendered him as hard as the jewels they mined. He had taken all responsibility when their father passed away and he took it too seriously, Agatha had heard Lady Alice say too many times before.
"What do you mean you are getting married?" It was Lady Alice who finally took the risk for no one was yet ready to force a laugh if Benedict did plan to be funny.
Agatha watched Benedict's face, desperately searching for any hint of what he was thinking or feeling but failed.
"I am. To Lady Frances Highmore." It must have been the way he so nonchalantly said it that made it quite hard for everyone to believe. But it must also be the name he mentioned that made everyone gasp in surprise.
Agatha saw Benedict's face twitch, a sign that he was smiling. "That is all," he uttered at the gaping ladies, and with his erect back and broad shoulders, he turned away.
Before anyone could blink and gather their thoughts back, Benedict Everard was gone.
"Did we all hear the same thing?" It was Emma who finally broke the silence. "Ysa, tell me what you heard Benedict say."
"He is going to be married to Frances Highmore."
Agatha did not realize she had gone stiff until all hell broke loose.
"Oh, goodness gracious! It must be true! It must be true!" Lady Alice came to her feet and sauntered out of the parlor, followed by Margaret and then the twins. "Benedict!" Lady Alice's voice faded as she and her daughters chased after the lord of the manor.
Agatha was left alone in the parlor and she forced her practiced smile while the gleeful voices of the Everard ladies suddenly erupted from somewhere above, probably Benedict's study, as they all rejoiced at the news.
Benedict Everard, Lord of Devonshire, was finally getting married. He had always opposed to the idea and no one had dared force him into it.
But now he was getting married, Agatha thought.
"A Highmore! A Highmore!" Lady Alice was shouting from somewhere.
"But they're blondes!" Emma or Ysabella whined. "And she's too thin!" Emma or Ysabella added.
The Highmores had always kept to themselves and at one point Lord Highmore had stated that he could never associate their name with the wicked Everards. But somehow Benedict had changed his mind. Somehow, something in him had convinced the Highmores to tie themselves to the Everards.
And now he had managed to find a bride that could give their family what they had always wanted—the Highmore ruby mines.
Agatha swallowed the uncomfortable feeling brewing inside her. She blinked a few times before she attempted to stand up but found that she couldn't.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, unsure of how she felt. Like always where Benedict Everard was concerned, an overwhelming odd feeling came over her and this time it was not a weirdly nice one.
The beast was getting married.
He had finally chosen someone.