~Chapter One~
(City of Harland Harbor 1791)
The year had brought more than enough success financially and the economy was at its best for Harland Harbor. Many farmers had prospered with their lands giving the market an opportunity to have some of the finest crop ever picked and gathered. Life progressed and it was a marry time for many. Given that the increasing wealth in Harland Harbor brought a great relief over many that awaited the awful winter it was a rotten day for Scarlett Worthington. No amount of money nor bribe could rob her of the heart ache she endured.
The invitees filled the small little chapel waiting patiently for the groom and bride to arrive. The atmosphere filled with a hot sticky heat as dust ascended with every passerby on horseback. Meanwhile, a few miles away Scarlett sat inside her chamber room starring at her sadden reflection. Her heart shaped lips frowned while her dismay brown eyes let a tear slip without her consent. She was well aware that her family preoccupied the room as well. Mercifully the delicate texture of her veil covered the tear she had shed. The night before, Scarlett had wept with deep sorrow spilling in heaps of tears her rejection to marry Sir Heart's eldest son.
Her betrothal to Dathan was an arranged marriage since birth and heaven forgive her thoughts but she loathed the day upon her. She clutched her gloved slender hands into fists and inhaled deeply the air reeking of expensive exotic perfumes. Her eyes trailed to her younger sisters who chatted up a storm not a few feet away from her. Larisa, the second eldest, sat dressed in a well-fitted blooming blue dress. Her cheeks blushed as she boasted in laughter to whatever it was her sister Mia, the third eldest spoke. Larisa held golden locks that caressed the soft delicate texture of her neck. It radiated with such beauty under the candle light, giving soft complexion to her skin.
Mia muttered under her breath again and Larisa covered a gloved hand over her mouth as she playfully elbowed her. Mia snickered and tossed a brown shiny lock of hair over her shoulder. She held features much like her elder sister, Scarlett. Her hair lay in ringlets of brown hair, shiny as the twinkling stars at night. Mia held a petite powdered nose and blushing velvet cheeks that harmonized with her green satin dress. Nichole, the smallest of the four, sat quietly in her seat, eyes staring down in displeasure at her high-buttoned white boots. Dirty blond hair, a round face that would take its shape once she was of age and large blue eyes was her description. However, she was not surprised to see Nichole so displeased with the fashion of her dress, or shoes for that matter.
After turning thirteen, Nichole had been specific about the dresses she wore in public. Looks mattered to her and Scarlett could understand why she felt that way. Her mother had worked hard in making each one, including her own.
Scarlett could see them each, their smiles extending from ear to ear, but alas she could not find herself to approach them. Swiftly she forced her gaze to look away, she did not want them to notice her sadness nor her discomfort. She let out a shaky breath and held it as she heard deep thudding footsteps approach her side.
"They wait for you," the familiar voice of her mother suddenly spoke.
She nearly jumped out of her seat as she nodded and closed her eyes tightly. Scarlett kept telling herself that it was for the best, that in time she would learn to love the man she was about to wed. The realistic side of her disagreed and made her fear the worst about her new husband. Quietly standing she smoothed out her long expensive dress and took her mother's hand. Lady Worthington smiled kindly at Scarlett, her lenient features showing how time had slowly disheveled her beauty.
"Take deep breaths dear." She whispered.
Scarlett did as she was told allowing herself to grow numb as she was led to the slaughter where her life would change forever. She knew well Dathan disliked her with more passion than the devil did God. It was not but a few days ago they had personally met for the first time and all he had shown was repulsion. She began to question her beauty then seeing that he held features carved by the angels themselves.
It was all so sudden how it all occurred. She last remembered placing a foot inside the carriage. Now she stood outside the chapel doors holding fast to the bouquet of white roses. Her thought's trailed to the day they had met and she could not recall feel a slight bit excited.
"This is the great Scarlett Worthington whom is worthy of me? Father I believe you over exaggerated when you called her beautiful," he had harshly commented.
Entering the waiting room inside the church Scarlett felt her heart skip as two men before her held the elongated handles to the altar. Tears betrayed her smile as she nodded kindly to the gentlemen whom received her with a warm grin.
"Looks can be very deceiving my son, in time you will learn to love this woman. You shall see that I have done right by you. A rare jewel in this sea of wretched women," Sir Heart, his father defended.
"I am not flattered in the least. I am a grown man able to make my own decisions, able to choose whom I want as a wife, and father, I do not want her," he argued, pointing a stiff finger in Scarlett's direction.
Violins played and it seemed to make her eyes tear greatly as the doors to the entrance were being opened. She drew in a breath and concentrated instead on the tickling her tears caused while uniting at the tip of her chin. She felt the slightest drop hit her chest gently soaking into her dress. She refused to acknowledge the surprised gasps and appreciation of her entrance. For how could she bask in the glory of her marriage when she herself dreaded this day.
"Have respect! She stands but a mere foot from you, how is it that I raised a hellion instead of a gentleman?" Sir Heart argued.
"I will not stand here any further to argue, I take my leave," Dathan sneered.
It was the warm embrace of her father's arm that pulled her from her troubled thoughts. Wrapping his arm around her own he proudly led her to the altar, a triumphant smile upon his face.
"Please try to look like you want to be here dear," he muttered, when he took notice of her saddened expression.
"Yes father," she respectfully replied. Lifting her chin a little higher she forced a faint smile on her face. Her tears simply looked as if they were out of joy. When they reached the front, her father slipped from her side and took his place. Scarlett could not bring herself to look at her betrothed, her cheeks were heating up a storm. Instead she forced her weary brown eyes to the large bouquet she held in her hands. The beautiful white roses bloomed in her gasp as bits of baby's breath danced all around it.
When the priest began to speak she felt her skin crawl with a chilling fear as he proceeded to lie about how profoundly in love they were. It was an awful thought, but she wished to be swallowed by the ground never to be seen again. The dress she wore suddenly felt too tight, the heat of the day did not help her situation and neither did Dathan's penetrating glare. The man spoke for what seemed like hours until he finally asked Scarlett the ultimate question.
"Do you Lady Scarlett Worthington take this man to be your lawful wedded husband?" There was a pause before she could reply with an 'I do'. "And do you promise to love him and cherish him, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, until death do you part?
"I do," she whispered, her eyes closing tight.
When Dathan's turn came, he refused to reply, his pause prolonged in the air and worried mutters began to fill the atmosphere. Her grip tightened around the bouquet wishing for him to take a stand and end both of their miseries. Instead, his father leaned in behind his son whispering into his ear. She dared to look up and stare into his angered blue eyes, his face was slowly turning red. Scarlett could not seem to look away as a pleading expression crossed her eyes, pleading him to deny her.
She wasn't certain if he could see past the veil into her tear filled eyes, but she hoped he could. Parting her lips, she quietly muttered a "please". It was then that Dathan looked away, turning to face his father with a snarl.
His hands fisted, her eyes closed, and it was then that he forcefully muttered and 'I do'. Squeezing her eyes tighter she heard as the invitees awkwardly clapped.
"You may kiss the bride," the priest said aloud.
The veil lifted over her face and she kept her eyes shut her hands trembling violently. Instead he reached over took one of her hands and yanked the glove off tossing it aside. Lifting her finger, he forced the ring unto it and dropped her hand. Adjusting his suit he lifted his chin high and began his walk down the isle, leaving his newly wed bride behind. In that dreadful moment Scarlett wanted to crumble into pieces on the floor but instead she gathered her large gown and awkwardly walked after him. Eyes stared in her direction and whispers reached her ears.
There was nothing she hated more than this day. Long ago she had dreamt of a beautiful ceremony and the man of her dreams ending the day in a kiss. However, the moment had vanished once her parents had sat her down for a very long talk the night she had turned eleven. She had seen Dathan only once or twice after that. She could recall the snobby eldest Heart pointing his nose upwards at her. Ever since they were children he had always made her feel smaller than him. Her only desire now would be that maybe just maybe he could give this marriage a chance for everyone's sake.
At the far back of her mind she knew she was asking the desert to give her water. She knew well Dathan would never ever change. Begging her parents to change their mind had not worked. Asking Sir Heart to reconsider had been a mistake and starring into those dashing fathom dark blue eyes had been an even greater blunder.
She reached the double brown door her husband had just stormed from when the guest began to follow after her. Startled out of her thoughts by her Aunt Rosanne's boastful laughter, Scarlett stared at the robust woman fanning her reddened round face. Her brown hair curled and styled to adorn the top of her head did not help her look any less than a glutton. The tacky mint green color of her dress simply made it impossible to like the woman any more than she already did.
Out of all the family members Scarlett secretly disliked the most was her Aunt Rosanne. The woman could not go a minute without gloating about her husband's success and wealth. She was a rude and piggish lady without a cessation to her retched wicked little mouth. Just as the horrid thought passed Scarlett's mind she watched in horror her Aunt Rosanne turn her attention towards her. Her heels clacked against the floor as she approached, the fan in her hand moving faster as she reached her side.
"I would congratulate you but seeing that your newlywed husband doesn't seem to think so I'll keep my compliments to myself. Oh don't look so distraught Scarlett, he'll come around every man does. We hold the key to their desires," she lastly whispered before stepping away to let Scarlett walk out of the church.
All Scarlett could offer was a mere smile that clearly did not reach her eyes. Scarlett had hoped that the day she married it would have been for love but it had not been so. Money had been the reason a man had said I do. And it crushed her to realize she wasn't worthy enough to be loved.