March 3rd 1872
ANNA
Ten days before the fire.
I leave the manor through the servants' door, feeling a thrill of excitement at the thought of defying orders and sneaking out at night. The night air is chilly, and I wrap my shawl tighter around myself.
My name is Anna. Well, for now anyway. It was a spontaneous, spur-of-the-moment decision. Three days ago now, when I had confronted him as he was trying to stealing jewellery, he'd told me his name was James. But I knew that it wasn't. James was far too boring a name for such an interesting boy. Then he'd asked me for mine, and I'd seen the opportunity to have a little fun, to mess with him until he found out who I really was. It wouldn't do for him to know my real identity yet, it wouldn't do at all. The name 'Anna' just slipped out of my mouth, surprising me. Who was Anna? The thought had intrigued me for the last few days. Anna was just a maid, and an insolent one at that. But sometimes, when I was with him, I forgot about the real me, about my real name. We were just James and Anna, two people who just wanted to have a little fun.
One thing's for sure. For now at least, Anna I must remain. Only when I am Anna - only then - can I be free. Free from the burdens and expectations that control me when I am myself. Not that I was ever bothered much by them anyway, but even so.
I know that right now, neither of us knows that other's real name and identity, but that doesn't worry me. He could be a criminal for all I know, but to my surprise I find that I don't care.
This morning, as I went past him on my way to breakfast, he'd passed a note into my hand. Quickly, secretly, so no one else would see. I'd tucked it into my corset, and then only took it out when I was in the privacy of my room. One simple sentence, but it made my day. And when mother had asked me why I was grinning when I did my needlework, I simply stated that I was happy to be in her company. She looked shocked, but didn't question me any further.
Meet me behind the haystacks tonight when everyone has gone to bed, and also, may I just say that you look absolutely stunning today, sweetheart.
J
I had run my fingers over the line of spiky handwriting again and again until the ink had smudged, before throwing it into the flickering fireplace. No one must know that I am seeing him. That would ruin everything. I felt a little thrill at the thought of meeting a boy in secret. At the thought of forbidden romance. I felt like a heroine in book, and James was my knight in shining armour, come to save me from my fate. I told myself to snap out of it, that I was being stupid and irrational, but I just couldn't wipe the silly grin off my face. If my parents found out, they would be furious. Alone in my room, I laughed out loud at the thought of their horrified, angry faces.
When he hears me approach, he looks up, and his whole face is lit up by a smile. A smile so sincere, so heartfelt. His eyes look so golden in the flickering lamplight...
If he knew who I really was, he wouldn't be smiling....
"Hello, James," I grin as I reach him.
"Hello, Anna," he replies, matching my grin. "Shall we go for a walk?"
It's not the first time I've been alone with a boy. Mother demands that I find a suitor as soon as possible. "You're growing up, my bird," she'd say, "It's about time you found yourself a gentleman friend." I've been set up with many eligible young bachelors in the last few years, but I've found them to be all insufferable, vain idiots who only ever care about themselves. I've sat through dinner parties and theatre performances, almost dying from boredom. But this - this is completely different. This has been the first time that I've felt something. James makes me laugh, and he's... intriguing. Is it love? James - this boy - do I love him?
I can't help but snicker. No, I'm not doing this because I love him. I'm doing this because I want my life to be more interesting. To alleviate boredom. I can't be in love with him, can I? Of course not.
"What is it?" he asks, and his brow furrows with concern, "Am I doing something wrong? This is what young gentlemen do to woo their dearly beloved, isn't it?"
This time I laugh for real. Once I start, I can't stop. I laugh and laugh until my stomach hurts and I'm leaning on him for support. Oh god, I haven't been this happy for months. Years even.
He looks at me with a mixture of confusion and - mad adoration? I try to stop laughing, but I can't. What must he think of me? Insane, at best. Perhaps he believes I should be locked up at Bedlam? Perhaps he's wondering how he got himself into this.
"I'm so sorry," I say at last, "I don't know what came over me. That was not proper at all."
"And since when have I ever been a carer for propriety?"
Realising that I'm still leaning on him, I pull away. I smirk. "You know, it's midnight, and we're alone. I'm walking with you in the dark, and I barely know you at all. It seems like the perfect opportunity for you to...shall we say...take advantage of me."
"Is that an invitation?"
"Only in your wildest dreams!" I gape, "No. Oh God no. And you shouldn't even be thinking things like that." I try to banish the mental image from my mind. "No, of course not. But this is how most murders occur. Well, in the newspapers anyway."
"Oh, so she reads the newspaper. She's an educated young lady." He grins, "If only more girls these days were like that."
I can't tell from his tone of voice if he's mocking me, or actually giving me a compliment. I decide to ignore him. "The killer lures their victim out until they're alone, somewhere isolated, somewhere where no one can hear her screams...then..." I gesture at my neck.
"So now you're calling me a murderer, are you?" he says with amusement. "Yet you still came to see me. That says a lot."
"Why did you ask me to meet you, anyway?" I ask, trying to change the subject.
"Because I intend to ask for your hand in marriage. Anna..."
I raise an eyebrow at him. He says it so casually, as if stating a fact. The Queen's name is Victoria. Oh, and by the way, I intend to marry you, Anna. And he says it as if he already knows I'll say yes. To my surprise, he kneels down and produces a velvet ring box from his pocket.
"Anna, will you marry me?"
"I - you - what?" I stand in bewildered silence for a moment, not knowing what to say. What are you meant to say when a strange boy - one that you've only just met - asks for your hand in marriage? This is something my training never covered. Damn him and his stupid proposing!
"I know you don't believe in love at first sight, Anna, but I do. I believe in love at first sight, and I love you with all my heart. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met. I've never met anyone like you. You're smart, and quick-witted, and gorgeous. I love everything about you, and I intend to marry you."
This whole situation is ludicrous. Is he really asking me to marry him, after we've only just met? I've never been in a situation before where I haven't known what to say. "Flattery won't work on me," I reply at last.
"I know it won't," he says, "But this isn't flattery. It's the truth. Plain and obvious."
He opens the box and the diamond glitters in the lamplight. Oh, it's so pretty. But where did a boy like him find such a jewel? Wait a moment. It looks so familiar. I've seen it before...
"You fool!" I exclaim, "This ring belongs to my mothe-my mistress!" Stay in character, I remind myself, you're Anna, remember? Mrs Chapworth is your mistress.
"No it doesn't," he says, pretending to be innocent, "I bought this ring with my own life's savings."
"Of course you did. And how did a poor servant boy scrape together the money needed to buy such a ring?"
He puts his hand to his heart dramatically, pretending to be hurt. "Oh, you are right, my fair maiden. How can I ever hope to be good enough for you? I am nothing but a lowly servant boy."
Why does he have to be so melodramatic all the time? And what was James thinking, stealing the ring like that? If he is to be discovered - heaven knows what will happen to him.
"I take that as a 'no', then." James sighs theatrically.
"What?"
"You're not going to accept my hand in marriage."
"You ask me to marry you with a ring that you've stolen from my mistress, and you really expect me to say yes?"
"Not tonight then." He sighs theatrically. "Never mind. I'll try again, rest assured. You'll change your mind eventually. One day."
He places the box back into his pocket.
God, it was impossible to stay mad at him. He was just so...odd, and melodramatic. But maybe that's the reason I am so drawn to him.
"You'll have to return that, you know."
"Hmm?"
"The ring. They'll notice that it's gone, and if they find you with it- "
"Ah, ye of little faith," he mutters, "I guess there's no way to convince you that it's not stolen?"
"None at all."
"Very well, then."
We walk in silence for a moment. The sound of our footsteps seem unnaturally loud in the night air.
"When you're standing at the edge of a pond, don't you ever get the urge to jump in?" He asks suddenly.
"No."
We have arrived at the pond at the edge of the garden, a pond filled with ornamental sculptures spouting water and an assortment of water-plants. The pond is just another pointless ornament of the Chapworth family. Serving no purpose but to show off their seemingly endless wealth to the world.
"Never?" he asks, unbelievingly, "You've never had the urge."
"Never, because I'm normal."
"Well," he shrugs. "Aren't you a spoil-sport. Me, on the other hand..."
Before I can protest, before it even registers in my brain what is going on, James takes a step forward and dives into the pond.
He is such an idiot!
I am caught in the splash. Now my nightgown is soaked with water, and I shiver in the chilly night air. I survey the surface of the pond, my lantern casting an eerie glow over the rippling water.
He seems to be taking a long time to surface. The surface is starting to become calm now, the ripples disappearing. Soon there will be no evidence of it ever being disturbed at all. Is James okay? What if the pond is much deeper than I think it is, and he is drowning right now? What if he's hit his head against something and is knocked unconscious? If something were to happen to him, it would be his own stupid fault. But I can't let anything happen to him. I can't.
"James?" I call, my voice edged with worry and urgency, "James? Can you hear me?"
I shouldn't have bothered. A moment later he resurfaces, laughing.
"So you do care for me, after all." He has a huge, stupid grin on his stupid face. Why did I bother myself worrying about him?
"It's freezing, you do realise." He is so stupid. So odd and stupid and spontaneous. But I love that about him.
"Details, details." He waves off the remark.
He makes me so mad sometimes that I just want to scream. "And anyway," I add, "I wasn't worried about you, I was worried about the ring, you idiot. It's a precious family heirloom. If you'd lost it you'd have no idea of all the trouble I'd be in."
"Come off it. You know you were worried about me."
"I knew you couldn't drown in there. The water's so shallow you can stand up in it. And I couldn't care less if you did drown."
"Well then, you won't mind then if I do this..."
Once again I'm caught off-guard. I feel a hand grab onto my ankle, and the next thing I know I'm falling. I shriek - more in shock than fear - all the while thinking, that idiot! He's going to pay for this.
The water is so, so cold. Even colder than I had imagined it to be. It takes the breath away from me, and for a moment my limbs feel immobilised by the cold. I can't move, I can't breathe. Is this how I'm going to die? I wonder to myself.
Then I feel strong arms around me, pulling me to the surface.
"Are you alright, Anna?"
Are you alright. Are you bloody alright. He pulls me into a pond in the middle of the night. And he asks me if I'm alright.
"What do you think?" I ask incredulously.
Without thinking, I slap him.
Or, rather, I try to slap him, but he catches my wrist in mid air, thwarting my attempt. I stare at him incredulously. How dare he humiliate me like that? He lets go after a moment, and I drop my hand. It trails awkwardly in the water. I realise that I don't want to slap him after all. I can't do it. I don't want to. But why?
"People do stupid things when they're in love," he murmurs softly.
"I'm not in love. I'm not." I said firmly, as if saying the words can make it true.
"Really?" he asked, and that infuriating smirk is back on his face, "Because it's obvious to me that you are."
I'm shivering uncontrollably. This is madness. Complete and utter madness. I'm very aware of the fact that I'm in nothing more than a nightgown. A half see-through nightgown, now that I'm soaked to the bone.
"You're shivering." Oh, so now he has a talent for stating the obvious.
"I'm soaking, you idiot. I'm cold because I'm soaking wet in a muddy pond because a stupid idiot pulled me in. Any decent gentleman would offer me his coat."
"Well, I would, but that wouldn't make much of a difference, seeing as my coat is soaking wet too."
I start to wade to the edge of the pond. "I'm going back inside. This is stupid."
"Anna..." He grabs my shoulders and I'm forced to turn to face him. He has such beautiful eyes. So big and bright and full of hope. There are water droplets suspended in his eyelashes, glistening like jewels. My thoughts are so confused at the moment. I don't know what to think. I've never come across a situation like this before. My mask of nonchalance is falling away. This feeling - is it love?
"Anna," he whispers, his voice soft in my ear, "I love you." He sounds so sure of himself, as if nothing will ever make him think otherwise.
And then he leans in and kisses me.