Chapter 2
I was greeted the next morning by Christopher. “Good morning, Isabelle. It is my wish that you slept well last night,” he commented.
My eyes flew open, only to be met by Christopher’s face, which was smiling down at me. “Christopher!” I exclaimed. “What a surprise,” I greeted, pulling the blanket over my body.
“No need to be embarrassed,” Christopher remarked, referring to my pulling at the blanket.
I gave him a confused look. “I assure you, I am more surprised than embarrassed.”
Christopher chuckled. “Surprised? At what?” I raised an eyebrow, wondering how he could find this random greeting to be normal, but Christopher took no notice.
“I came to tell you that breakfast will be ready in approximately ten minutes, and I hope to see you seated at the table with us,” Christopher said lightly. Without another word, Christopher hopped up from my bed and glided through the room and out the door.
I groggily rolled out of bed and ran a brush through my knotted bedhead. Upon minimal satisfaction, I threw the brush down on the vanity and ran down the steps to the dining room. I was starving.
“Glad you could join us,” Verona said icily.
I paused, not sure how to respond. I smiled, “Well, I’m glad my presence bring you such pleasure.”
Verona’s smirk disappeared, and she looked to her empty plate.
“We’re all pleased to see you again,” Christopher told me, his smile beaming in my direction.
I couldn’t help but look to James. He was looking down at his plate, expressionless. I looked back to Christopher and gave him a small, fake smile.
“Are we ready to dine?” Christopher asked joyfully.
“I’d say so,” Verona grumbled. “I’ve been waiting long enough.”
“Why does it matter how long you’ve been waiting?” James asked under his breath. “You hardly eat anything anyway.”
Verona smiled at James. “A strict diet is the only way to maintain a figure such as mine.”
I inwardly rolled my eyes, but tried to keep my outward appearance indifferent.
“You must diet very strictly,” Christopher commented to me.
I shook my head and answered, “I don’t.” Verona’s face jolted up and her eyes met mine. “Why would you suggest that?” I asked Christopher.
“Well, your figure doesn’t suggest otherwise,” was his reply.
Verona shifted in her seat. “Well, we don’t all have my self control.”
The table met silence once the server came out with her cart of food. Decent portions of food were given to all of us, except Verona. Verona’s plate was criminally close to empty. Yet, through the quiet dinner, Verona managed to finish at the same time as the rest of us. She took unusually small bites.
“Lady’s don’t stuff their faces,” Verona commented when she caught me looking at her. “Small bites are polite bites.”
I closed my mouth tight to make sure I didn’t scoft. Making enemies isn’t a good idea, and something told me that Verona is someone I wouldn’t want to have playing against me.
Just as I finished my food and made a move to leave, Christopher stopped me. “Wait, Isabelle,” he said lightly. I sat back down slowly and waited for Christopher to continue. “There’s a party tonight; It’s in Melling. I am hopeful that you will do me the honor of accompanying me.”
The surprise pushed all the air out of my lungs. I had just met this man less than twenty-four hours ago, and now I’m supposed to be his date? I closed my eyes for a short moment but quickly opened them when I remember there were people watching me. “Of course,” I replied, not truly meaning it but feeling as if I had no other choice but to say it.
Christopher looked up at me with a smile. It felt almost as if he was trying to reward me with his grin. Christopher beamed at his brother and Verona before returning his attention to me. “That was all,” he concluded.
I gave him a confused smile, something I’m sure he receives often from me and something he will probably continue to often receive from me. With that, I stood up from my seat, excused myself, and made my way back to my room, the only place where I can find enough comfort.
I passed hours alone in my room, reading. I’d say stories are wonderful escapes from reality. A soft knock sounded from my door. Startled, I arose from my bed and made my way to the door. On the other side was my chauffeur from the day before. The man smiled at me without a word.
“Hello,” I greeted him, careful not to give the illusion that I intended to address him by name.
“Hello, Isabelle,” he replied cheerfully. “The ball is tonight at six. Mr. Amore wanted me to make sure you received this.” The man was hold a creamy white box that looked fairly large.
Taking the box, which was surprisingly light, I dismissed the man with a “thank you” and a smile. Without even taking a peek inside the box, I threw it onto my dresser. Soon after, I completely forgot about the gift as I dove into my book once more.
Hours ticked by until another knock, similar to the only other knock my door had received that day, sounded through my door. I answered and was not surprised to be met by the man, once again. It was another white present, just like the other. Two young boys came around the corner, pushing a small cart with a cover plate on the top shelf.
“And your lunch.” The man grinned towards the boys instead of at me. His fond smile made the two boys grin back at him.
I thanked the three of them and carefully closed the door. I ate my lunch quietly on my bed as I read my book. As, what seems to be, usual, the food was delicious. My book was equally as delicious. Nothing seemed capable of ripping my attention away from the story I held in my hands, except the intriguing presents I had received.
I reluctantly placed my book back down on my bed, something I’ve been doing way more than I’d prefer. Once I reached the boxes, I undid the ribbons and pulled the tops off. In each box was a dress, matching jewelry, and shoes. I stared at the clothes feeling confused. Who sent these, and why would I need two? Inside each box was a message. My brows furrowed as I read each note over.
You’ll look ravishing in this.
- Christopher
I grimaced as I read the note. In the box was a deep blue dress. It was light and elegant, long sleeved without much decoration. It wasn’t the flashiest. I pushed the box to the side and pulled the note out of the second box.
I’ll look for you in the crowd.
- James
Underneath the note was a fire red dress that hugged the body just to puff out beginning at the waist. It wasn’t overdone, it was subtle but cute. Really cute, just my type. The shoes were simple and red to match the dress, along with simple silver earrings and a silver heart necklace. I smiled at the gift and my heart fluttered a little.
Suddenly I was brought back to my senses. “Why would James get me a dress?” I wondered. I couldn’t answer my question, but I knew what I had to do. Without another thought to the dresses, I returned to my book until just an hour before we were to leave for the party.
Without a second thought, I slipped the blue dress Christopher had sent me on. I put on the graceful golden heels and a small gold necklace with my name. Quickly, before leaving, I dabbed on some makeup. Looking in the mirror, I got an overwhelming feeling. My life has changed so much in just a few days. Nothing’s the same anymore. I haven’t even spoken to my parents since I’ve left.
I shook the thoughts of my family out of my head and left my room. “Ready to go?” an unfamiliar voice sounded from my right. I whipped around. A couple feet below was a young child. He looked to be about five years old. I gave him a hard smile.
“Yes, I am,” I replied.
“Everyone’s down the steps, waiting for you in the entry room.”
“Great,” I wanted to grumble. I resisted the temptation to murmur in front of the child, though. Instead, I gave him another difficult smile. “Then they won’t have to wait much longer.”
“You don’t like it here,” the boy stated.
I looked at the boy for a moment. He didn’t seem to be questioning me or accusing me, just making an observation. I turned away from the boy and hurried down the stairs. My blue dress flowed down to just above my knees. The back was the only exciting part, the neckline plunged to mid-back while the front was rounded at my collarbone. Plain blue, no frills, no decoration. It seemed very “Christopher” but not very “me”.
“Isabelle,” Christopher greeted me with a wide smile.
Beside Christopher was Thomas and Marin Amore, his parents. “Isabelle,” their greetings followed after Christopher’s. “We’re so glad you could make it,” his mother smiled.
I smiled back. “I am too,” I replied, unsure how else to continue the conversation. I followed the three of them out the door and into the awaiting limo.
“Verona and James already left, nearly half an hour ago,” Mrs. Amore mentioned. “They wanted some privacy.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I’m not very surprised,” Mr. Amore laughed. “Verona’s a very spirited girl.”
Mrs. Amore laughed beside her husband. They seemed very happy together. “Where did you two meet?” I blurted curiously.
Mrs. Amore laughed once more. “Oh, that seems so long ago,” she grinned.
“We went to a dance, much like this one,” Mr. Amore began. “I saw Marin across the room.”
“It was like in the movies,” Mrs. Amore interrupted with a large grin spread across her face.
“I just had to dance with her,” Mr. Amore said with a dazed look. “I thought if I didn’t dance with her then I’d just die.”
“When I saw Tom, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him. When he asked me to dance, I just about thought I’d pass out,” Mrs. Amore agreed.
Mr. Amore sighed and beamed at his wife, “That moment I just knew I had to have her. We were married less than a month later.”
By this point they were no longer talking to me. They were talking to each other. “Your mother thought you were insane. She just hated me,” Mrs. Amore giggled.
“She did not hate you,” Mr. Amore chuckled. “She thought you were wonderful, she just thought we were moving too quickly.”
“We were,” Mrs. Amore agreed, “but love seems to move at it’s own pace.”
A silence fell over us. Mr. and Mrs. Amore stared at each other for a moment. Only a little time passed before they began speaking again. This conversation was so obviously only between the two of them. Their hushed whispers were impossible to understand but easy to hear. Mrs. Amore smiled up at her husband and he’d roll his eyes and return her fond gaze.
Christopher leaned in, towards me. “That’s going to be us,” he whispered in my ear. I couldn’t help but shiver a little.
The ride was fairly short. We quickly pulled up to the front of a mansion. We made our way to the dining room, where we would be eating. Dinner was, of course, amazing. It was also, thankfully, short. I was seated at a table with Mr. and Mrs. Amore and Christopher. They each talked nonstop about business. Their family owns a major recording label.
Finally, once we were finished eating, we made our way to the ball room. “Would you mind being my first dance?” Christopher asked me.
I looked up at him. “I actually don’t know how to dance.”
Christopher retracted slightly. “Well, that’s a down-right shame,” he said to me. “You should have told me much sooner; I could have scheduled a lesson.”
“I’m sorry,” I replied. “I didn’t know.”
“There’s no reason to fret any longer. I’ll arrange a few lessons for you. By the next party, you’ll be an expert,” Christopher announced.
“Okay,” I answered, unsure about what I was supposed to do now.
“I’m going to go find a partner,” Christopher told me. “Try to mingle; you won’t be the only one sitting out, I’m sure.” With that, Christopher left and started walking through the crowd, looking for a dance partner.
“Isabelle!” I heard a familiar voice yell, moments later. “Why don’t you join us?” I looked up from where I stood. Just a few yards away, Verona stood.
I smiled, “I’m alright where I am.”
“No, no! I insist!” she giggled. Reluctantly, I walked towards Verona and a couple of her friends. “Now what are you doing sitting out all alone?” she asked with a grin.
“I can’t dance,” I replied shortly. She was getting at something, I just couldn’t tell what it was.
Verona gasped dramatically, “You can’t dance?”
“No,” was all I would say. Her friends seemed to snicker a little.
“Well, that’s just a pity.”
“Is it? I can now only assume that you can dance,” I said.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I can,” was her reply.
“Well, I’d call that a pity.”
Verona’s eyes lost their laughter, and she squinted at me. “What do you mean, my dear Isabelle?”
“Well, I have an excuse where you have none.”
Verona’s face turned red with anger. Before I could hear whatever more she had to say to me, I left. I spent even less than two minutes alone by the time I was approached by none other than James.
He wasted no time. “May I have a dance?” he asked. Under the breath of his charm, I was quick to accept, forgetting whatever reasons I had not to. However, my acceptance was cut short by Verona’s call.
“James,” she announced, at James’ side in just a few short seconds. “I have no excuse; I must have a dance.”
James gave me a smile, hinting at an untold message that I could not decipher. Without a single added word, the conversation was dispelled and I was left to myself for an extended period of time.
The night wasted away. I was quickly tired out. Glancing at the clock, I could see that the dance was merely an hour in, with two hours left, assuming we’d stay for the endurance of the ball. A woman stood to leave for the crowd. I wasted no time in approaching the, now empty, seat in the corner. Within a few minutes of sitting down, I fell asleep.
It felt as if only ten minutes had passed when I was woken from my sleep. Ungracefully, I stood, lost my balance, and fell back into the chair I had been sleeping in. “I’m awake,” I slurred, not yet adjusted to being awake.
“Isabelle, we are departing at this moment,” Christopher smiled.
With a couple more breaths I was slightly more aware. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” I quickly apologized, realizing that the most I had done the whole night was fall asleep in the corner of the room.
Christopher didn’t seem fazed at all. “Apology accepted. Would you like me to help you up?” he asked.
In the back of my mind I laughed. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard him speak like a normal teenage boy. “His voice is rather robotic,” I thought, laughing to myself.
“If you would,” I replied, understand that declining the offer would be rude.
Soon enough, Christopher and I arrived at the limousine. I released my grip on Christopher’s arm and ducked into the car. I was welcomed by Marin, Thomas, Verona, and James. I tried to offer a smile, but I could tell it looked weak. My eyelids were heavy and all I could think of was sleep and James’ offer to dance.
I looked to Verona; she wasn’t looking at me, though. Verona was staring up at her husband, James. James, in return was gazing at the floor, not making eye contact with anyone.
When Christopher got inside, the limo began to drive. There was only silence for a minute, at most. “What?” he asked. Everyone looked to Christopher. “What’s going on?”
Verona looked back to James. “What is going on?” she asked.
“Don’t ask,” Mr. Amore warned.
Christopher looked, for a moment, as if he was about to continue with the questions, but, wisely, he changed his mind and kept his mouth closed. The ride back to the house (which, I’d say calling it a “house” seems conservative) was quiet without any conversation. To me, it felt awkward, but I couldn’t be sure that was the same for everyone. To the others, it seemed as if the silence was a breath of relief. The air around us was odd, almost tense.
Arrival was heaven. I don’t believe I’d ever been so happy to be leaving a limousine. I desperately jumped out of the car. I knew it must have looked crazy, but at the time it didn’t matter. Whatever family problems they were experiencing, it wasn’t my business.
Hours passed, I was sitting alone in my room. This seems to be the way most of my days pass. Back at home, with my family, I used to go out all the time. Of course, that was back when I was free. That was when my life was my own. Now what am I? Forced to marry a man I don’t love, to live a life I don’t love.
I’ve thought of leaving, running away, why not? What would they do? Track me down? Sue my family? Maybe, maybe. They might. How could I know? With all the money they paid and put into this, put into me, into my marriage with their son. Honestly, I don’t know much about this arrangement. By the time I was told, I was leaving. I was too angry and surprised to think about it rationally, to demand explanations. I was sad, disheveled, heartbroken, but I was also mad. I was angry with what my parents had done.
“I don’t even know why,” I whispered aloud, scared of my own faults.
Jumping up from my bed, I ran to my dresser. A passing glance at the clock told me that it was nearly midnight. Without a second thought, I pulled out a notebook and a pen. It took longer than expected, to write a letter. I hadn’t spoken to my family in nearly a month. An hour had went by when I finished the letter. I mostly wrote about how sorry I was for the lack communication recently. I asked how they were and shortly described what it was like staying here. It was only in the very last paragraph that I asked why. I asked why they arranged this. I asked for all the background they could give. I wrote that last paragraph quickly without much forethought. I stuffed the letter haphazardly into an envelope and sealed it.
The words of my last sentence were branded to the back of my mind, no matter how I tried not to think of it.
I need to know everything. Why would you do this to me?
The urge to cry was prominent, but the action never occurred. If I had my way, the horror deep inside me would never see the light of day.
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Thank you so much for reading! It means a lot to me. I've worked so hard on this story, and I'm ecstatic that others are also enjoying it!
-R