Heii everyone, so today is an EXTRE EXTRA EXTRA long post and I hope not to bore you all. Here is the beginning to a story I have been working on. It isn't finished yet, and it was inspired by a few novels I have been reading lately. I hope you all enjoy and feel free to comment and tell me what you think!
xoxo
Chaos
Viscount Nathaniel Malden sucked in a cold breath. It had been hours since he had entered his coach and set off from London. His coach was no protection from the bitter cold outside, it seeped through the cracks of the door and the windows on either side.
Nathaniel blew warm breaths into his gloved hand and reminded himself why he was on this trip in the first place. His permanent estate was in London, where he had lived with his grandmother for years. Where he had his money, his home, his life. Where he was very happy, indeed.
His father's abusive grip on him had been hard to break. When he'd formed the right plan and been able to escape however he had been lucky enough that his maternal grandmother had taken him int the moment he showed up on her doorstep in London.
Grandmother Perks was a very strong willed widow that ruled her home with an iron fist. His father hadn't been able to get a single glimpse at him once and left when he saw that his attempts were to no avail.
Nathaniel thought that his father's first act would be to disown him and remove him from his right to the Malden fortuned. So when the letter came he almost fell of his chair. Apparently along with his fortune he also inherited his title. His father had died only a few weeks ago, and had not modified his will at all.
Now, here he road on the snowy dirt roads, Viscount Nathaniel Malden. He whispered it to himself softly. It seemed so strange coming from his own lips. Almost like a profanity that mustn't ever be muttered to anyone.
He was riding to New Castle, ready to legalize everything with his lawyers and the banks. He sighed thinking of everything he had ahead of him was beginning to give him a headache. He looked outside the window but the cold had fogged it up making it opaque with little light and visibility. He sighed and once again blew warm breath into his gloves as he rubbed his hands together and leaned back.
His father had left him a great sum of money, and property. The large Malden Manor was made of white stone and the pillars that stood on its front launched high into the air, to where one would have to coil their neck back to see the top of it. Then there were the gardens and the grounds, the barns and much more. Or so you remember
He looked towards the window once more when the coach screech to a stop. Nathaniel flew off his seat and landed on the other side, using his arms to protect his face as he was thrust against the carriage wall.
A muttered a profanity and opened the carriage door. Stepping out into the cold December air that whisked past his face and child his ears to the point where they felt like they would fall off his face. He wrapped his coat around him tighter and walked towards his coachman.
He was calming the horses down as they neighed in protest to the abrupt stop. Once they were somewhat calm Nathaniel turned to him.
“What's happened?” he asked.
“The bridge is cut off m'lord,” the coachman answered in a strong Scottish accent, as he made his way round towards him. “I reckon there's ice beneath all that'a snow. Horses ain't prepared to go on it. 'Sides the storm is 'coming harsher m'lord. Ain't no way we're getting to the next town tonight.” the coachman explained. Nathaniel cursed under his breath. He had been hoping to get a bit farther tonight.
“'Side 'osses ain't gonna take the cold much longer, 'nd I ain't either m'lord. Reckon we'ave to try and rouse someone,” he went on patting a horse as he explained. Nathaniel nodded and looked around. He felt a bit drowsy himself, maybe it was best to rest for the night. There in the midst of the harshly descending snow he saw the glow of a light. It was still too far to walk, about a twenty minute ride, by coach, he sighed.
“Can you take us there?” he pointed at the glowering light. “I'll see if we can stay for the night at least,” he exclaimed. The coachman stared at the light and nodded.
“Aye m'lord. I'll take us there,” he said. Nathaniel nodded and climbed back into the carriage as his coachman began to turn the horses halfway around. It was a few minutes before Nathaniel heard the coachman's yell and the carriage pulling away. He seated himself, deciding to use the twenty minutes still ahead of him to glower in the future that seemed to line up ahead of him.
When the coach stopped once more, and the door opened he stepped once again in the bitter wind. The wisps of cold air blew his lightened brown hair everywhere. Nathaniel stared out at the house in which they had just arrived.
It was almost as wonderful and grand as his residence in New Castle, or at least that's how he remembered it.
His hand found its way to the freezing brass knocked and he banged it harshly against the wooden door. He peered at the door carefully. It was made of thick oak, darkened greatly by age. The intricate details carved on the wood were astonishing. The fleur-de-lys he tought to himself. The Lily.
It took only a few moments before someone opened the door. The man inside was tall and dressed eloquently enough, but he was no Lord, Nathaniel reasoned. Most likely the butler. The man looked at him and opened the door widely.
“Yes, may I help you sir?” he asked. His voice was surprisingly low and deep. Nathaniel quickly thought over his lessons from when he was younger, preparing himself to answer in the most eloquent fashion possible.
“I am Viscount Malden. The road to town had frozen over and my coachman, and I need shelter for the night. I'd be grateful if you brought me to your master, and helped my coachman and horses” he asked. The butler's eyes grew wide.
“Of course m'lord, please follow me,” he said “I'll send someone to help your coachman and the horses,” he said. Nathaniel nodded and stepped into the house. He followed the man to a parlor, welcoming the heat of the fire on the way.
“May I take your overcoat, m'lord?” the butler asked once more. Nathaniel thanked him and asked for his name. The butler introduced himself as, Jarvis.
“If you excuse me m'lord, I shall inform Master Barker of your arrival,” Jarvis said. Nathaniel gave a curt nod and watched as the butler bowed and walked from the room. Nathaniel stood by the fire warming himself up as he waited.
He had never heard of Lord Barker, then again he'd never been to Ashby, before either. By the looks of his surroundings, however, he would say Lord Barker was well on money and acquaintance with the newest fashions.
Jarvis came back a moment later.
“Miss Quake, has informed me that Lord Barker was called away on business this morning. But she has agreed to see you herself, if you wish.” Nathaniel nodded and thanked Jarvis, noting to himself that he failed to mention Lord Barker's field of business. Jarvis bowed his way out once more leaving Nathaniel to thank for a only a few moments.
A second later a door opened on the far side of the parlor. Nathaniel could almost feel his mouth drop as he looked at Miss Quake for the first time. Thought the door had walked a grand beauty.
Dressed in a large, but flattering burgundy gown stood Miss Quaker. Her big hazel-green eyes shinned brightly with the glow of the fire, almost as if they held a flame in them as well. Her hair was a curled bushy mess on her head, a brown so hard, it reminded him of sweet-tasting chocolate.
He noted, though, that she had a petite figure, though definitely not lacking the curves where they were necessary. Her face was round, her nose was large and delicate. Her lips were small and pink, but the combination fit nicely on her. She smiled and walked towards him.
Giving him a small curtsy she stood before him, almost making Nathaniel's heart flutter. He gave her a courteous bow and too stood.
“Lord Malden, I am Abigail Quake,” she said. Her voice was sweet, like honey, he reasoned.
“Unfortunately my cousin has been called away on business this morning and will not be returning until after Yule. However, Jarvis has informed me you and your coachman need shelter for the night, yes?” she asked.
He had the oddest feeling she was holding back something in her voice. Almost as if she wanted to release such politeness and be free to speak in other manners. I know the feeling.
“Yes, ma'am. I would greatly appreciate it, if you would let us shelter here for only the night,” he spoked lightly. Abigail seemed very pleased with the fact of having guests. It was much a surprised, though, that her face fell slightly when he mentioned he'd only stay for the night. She recomposed herself though and smiled.
“Well then, I shall have Jarvis set up a room for you, and place your man under the care of one of our servants. I'll also tell him to hold back dinner for you, I'm sure you must come ravenous,” she said in a kind voice.
“Famished,” Nathaniel answered her thankfully. She nodded and called Jarvis in giving him her orders.
“I do hope everything is to your liking, m'lord” she smiled. Nathaniel felt something drop to his lower body.
“I'm sure it will be more than sufficient, ma'am,” he complimented.
What? It was a firedrill, we had nothing better to do!
