by Janae Keyes
The flowers of summer were beginning to die off in preparation for the shedding of fall and the freezing of winter. As much as I knew this was natural and happened every year, I couldn’t help but connect the dying off of the flowers with the departure of Taylor from my life.
One of my favorite songs began to play, and I picked up the pace. Passing some of the last flowers to continue to bloom, I stopped in my tracks. I stood in front of bushes of hydrangea, Taylor’s favorite. The song was the same song playing in my ears that morning I caught her picking flowers. I remember her stepping to me in defiance and her taking my earbud, her delicious, round hips swaying to the music. The scent of vanilla filling my nostrils.
Changing the song, I tried to shake her as I continued. There was no shaking a girl like Taylor, she stayed lingering in the deep confines of my busy mind.
I arrived back at the house after an hour running, my head pounding less, but Taylor was still very much a presence. I let out a grunt as I ripped the buds from my ears and began toward the stairs, that’s when I heard a voice that made me want to run, yet it was too late for that.
“There you are Nathaniel,” Miranda called out.
My fiancée stood in front of me, Anne at her side as well as a collection of suitcases. I groaned as I knew the outcome of this, she’d made the decision to move in with me.
“Miranda,” I muttered trying not to fill my voice with the purest disgust.
“I arrived while you were out on your run. Anne was just going to help me settle in. I suppose she can deliver my bags to your room,” Miranda announced as if she had authority over my staff.
“No, Anne will not,” I growled in her direction. “Is your driver still around?”
“No, he left,” Miranda snarled.
“Okay, Anne will make a room for you, and once it is finished, you may deliver your own bags. Anne’s job is not to carry your luggage.” I wondered what kind of drugs Miranda was smoking or injecting. Anne was not one for doing heavy lifting, and at her age, I would never expect that of her. Miranda would have to figure out the transportation of her things on her own. “Why are you here anyway?” I questioned, intrigued by what her motives could be.
“I’m here because I’m your fiancée and we have a series of events to attend together this week as per your parent’s instructions. Is that a suitable answer?” She was pressing my buttons.
I knew about the various balls and other events this week throughout the Cumbria region that my parents threw every year. Normally, I was able to avoid these events, but it seemed being newly engaged, and the future Duke meant I had to introduce the world to my Duchess. I rolled my eyes.
“What room would you find suitable for Lady Dowlington?” Anne questioned. I looked over to the older woman to kept my home in running order.
“How about the Elizabeth room, Miranda likens herself to a queen,” I said my voice lined with irony.
“I will get her room prepared,” Anne noted as she began to make her way up the marble staircase.
“I’m going to shower,” I informed Miranda as I also began up the stairs.
“And what am I to do until my room is ready?” Miranda snarled.
“Make yourself at home; you seem to be trying to do that already,” I spat without a look back down in her direction. “For the ball tonight, meet me down here no later than seven. If a minute late, I will leave without you.” I announced down to her as I continued to make my way up the stairs.
I STOOD IN the entrance hall dressed in my tux. I yanked at the collar, hating how tight it felt on my neck. I let out an audible grunt as I checked my watch, 6:55 PM. Miranda had exactly five minutes to arrive, or I would have Langston leave without her, she could walk for all I cared.
A few minutes passed, 6:58, she was cutting it close. Just as I turned to begin to make my way out of the front door, I heard the clicking of heels. Fuck. I thought back to the night I’d taken Taylor to Edinburgh, hearing the clicking of the high heels I’d purchased for her. I remembered the exact way my heart palpitated as I eagerly awaited the first vision of her in her black dress. I’d give anything to be back in that moment.
Instead of the timid clicking that came from a nervous Taylor making her way to me, the clicks I heard were forceful and full of false superiority.
Looking directly up the stairs, I saw the painting that Taylor had done, inspired by the chandelier above my head. The way she could capture moments with paint was inspiring and the more I was able to observe her work, the more beauty I was able to find in small comments.
The forceful clicks of Miranda’s shoes shook me from my moment. Coming from around the bend, I spotted Miranda. She was a beautiful woman, just not the beautiful woman I imagined having on my arm. I could tell her chocolate brown hair was pulled up, her bright yellow dress was over the top, much like her irritating personality. As she began down the stairs and drew closer to me, I was able to observe her ball gown better. The top was form fitting and covered in many tiny crystals while the skirt was large and made of many layers of organza. I tried my hardest not to allow my disdain to show on my face.
I checked my watch, “7:00 exactly.”
“As instructed, my Lord,” she said in her own attempt to be seductive. There was a good chance I would vomit in my mouth.
“Let’s go,” I groaned as I turned to the door and opened it. Like a gentleman, I allowed Miranda out in front of me.
I spotted Langston at the car, his eyes glued to her and an amusing look of disbelief on his face. He greeted her politely as he opened the door for her. I held back a chuckle as he attempted to stuff her dress into the back of the car. I opted to sit up front with Langston.
While we rode, I did my best to ignore Miranda. Langston and I chatted about football and his kids.
It wasn’t long before we arrived at my parent’s official residence. Branagan Castle was the original home of my Great-Great-Great Grandfather Ernest Branagan, he also built Branagan Manor and split his time between the two homes. As the Duke and Duchess, Branagan Castle was the home base of my parents, but they spent most of their time at their home near Edinburgh, which my Scottish mother inherited from her family.
Tonight was the birthday celebration of Ernest Branagan that my family threw every year. I generally weaseled out of it, but this year I was expected to make an appearance in honor is the former Duke and present my future Duchess.
“Oh, it’s gorgeous,” hummed Miranda as we approached the large castle that dominated the landscape of the area. There were cars and limos parked all around. This was the first event of many this week. I had a long week ahead of me.
Langston stopped the car at the stairs. I got out while Langston walked around to let Miranda from the car. Of course, the moment she was out of the car, the paparazzi that were invited to the event were like vultures.
Respectfully, I placed my hand on the small of Miranda’s back as the flashbulbs went off in our faces. This was frustrating.
“Give us a kiss!” a few of the cameramen began to yell out. I ignored their request as Miranda, and I began to make our way to the entrance. “Come on just one kiss for the future Duchess.”
“If we must,” Miranda cooed sweetly before she stopped in her tracks and faced me. “Nathaniel,” she whispered. I let out a breath. This was a losing situation.
I turned to her and attempted to keep the look of disgust from my face as I leaned forward. Pressing my lips to hers, it was nothing like a kiss with Taylor. This kiss was flat and void of any tangible emotion. Miranda though, attempted to deepen the lackluster kiss. She gripped at my jacket and put her all into it, her tongue forcing its way into my mouth.
I broke away from her and Miranda let out a girlish giggle, winking at the members of the paparazzi that were going insane at our forced public display of affection.
“Let’s go,” I hissed in her direction as I pushed her along.
Reaching the front doors of the castle, they were opened for us, and we st
epped inside. I could already hear the excited noises of cheer coming from the ballroom. The urge to turn around and head home was incredibly strong, but there was no backing out.
My parents kept the decor in the castle constantly changing. I hadn’t been there in quite a while. Currently, the draperies were a dark rich shade of royal blue and everything was accented in gold. They were obviously playing up the royal connections. I sighed in an attempt not to roll my eyes. I just wanted the night over with.
“There is my baby brother and his beautiful bride to be!” a slurred voice nearly screeched out. There was no mistaking the drunken voice of my sister Penelope. She’d already had too much champagne and the night was incredibly young. “Evangeline, our brother has arrived!”
My family was impossible. I held my composure as both my sisters came in my direction. Penelope sported a one-shoulder evergreen ball gown. Her dirty blonde hair was down in a style that said she rolled out of bed that way. Evangeline went for class and sophistication in her gown. She strode to us; her blonde hair pulled to the side in an elegant bun and her black lace gown just touching the floor.
“Nathaniel and Miranda, lovely to see both of you,” Evangeline mused as she approached us. She kissed Miranda on both cheeks before coming to me and giving me an icy hug.
I’d never gotten along with Evangeline. She took herself and her position too seriously. Everything I did was wrong, and she had to control my every move. I was sure she was one reason I craved my own handle on control, once she was out of the house I was able to control my own, and I held that close to me, possibly a little too close.
“Look at Miranda, you look like a Duchess,” Evangeline commented as she looked over Miranda’s vomit inducing dress.
“Oh, Evangeline,” blushed Miranda.
“Has a wedding date been decided upon?” Penelope asked before taking a sip of her bubbly drink.
“No, the parents have been discussing, and March has been suggested,” Miranda bubbled out excitedly. I stood frozen. Dates hadn’t been discussed with me. March was only six months away.
My eyes scanned the room. I was eager to find my parents. I left my sisters and fiancée behind as I made my way into the ballroom. I was determined to find my mother and father, no matter what.
Finding them wasn’t difficult as they commanded the room. My father stood wearing his ceremonial costume, which I would one day have my own. I hated the pomp and circumstance that surrounded my family and their position. I was born into this madness, and there was no leaving it behind.
My mother looked opulent and incredibly beautiful in her silver gown. I spotted a grand smile on her face as she saw me coming in their direction. They were speaking with another couple, as I approached, I realized they were Miranda’s parents.
“Oh, Nathaniel my handsome boy,” my mother gushed as I reached them. She instantly pulled me into a hug and kissed my cheek.
“There is my son, where is that beautiful fiancée of yours?” my father questioned as his eyes scanned the room.
“Yes, where is our cupcake?” asked Miranda’s mother. This woman was Miranda’s twin, with the same sickly smug grin on her face.
“She is socializing with my sisters,” I answered their inquiries quickly. “Mother, Father, may I speak with you in private?”
“This isn’t the time, son,” my father grumbled.
“It is going to be the time,” I growled at the two of them. My mother let out a sigh in response and glanced in my father’s direction, he responded with a nod.
“Excuse us,” my mother sweetly said to Miranda’s parents who simply nodded.
Having no time to spare, I stalked off toward one of the small libraries that were off the edge of the ballroom.
I threw the doors open with force. I already felt the rage I was eager to unleash. I peered at the wall of books ahead of me as one of my parents closed the door behind us.
Turning toward them, they stood with looks of confusion on their faces. I found my parents to be good actors.
“What is this about Nathaniel?” my father questioned angrily.
“A wedding date has been set apparently and without my knowledge,” I stated in an eerily calm voice.
“It isn’t set in stone, but March 30th has been thrown out as a possible date,” my mother said as she took a seat in an old leather armchair. What upset me the most was how calm they were about it. They both acted as if this wasn’t a big deal when they knew I wasn’t on board with the marriage in the first place.
“We are still working with Miranda’s parents to finalize it all,” my father added.
“Didn’t any of you think it would nice to discuss it with me?” I questioned, my anger entering my voice.
“Nathaniel, calm down,” my mother started. “We just--”
“You just, nothing!” I growled. “I’m already being forced into this sham, and now I find out the wedding is only six months away.”
“The sooner, the better, really,” my father noted.
“And what does that mean?” I asked.
“It means, you and Miranda can get started on an heir sooner rather than later,” my mother said in a matter of factly tone.
“This is bullshit,” I huffed in defeat.
There was no arguing with them. I was a prisoner to my title, and their decisions were concrete. Miranda and I were going to be married in March and the time I had with Taylor was limited. I wanted to be with her, see her, feel her, and love her in the way she deserved.
“Nathaniel, what can make this better for you?” my mother asked as she stood from the chair and walked to me, placing her hand on my arm. I snatched my arm away from her. She was pretending to be more motherly than she’d ever been.
“What would make this right is finding love my own way,” I insisted, and I was greeted with a large laugh from my father. My eyes shot in his direction.
“How would you find love in your own way?” my father inquired. “You don’t go out; you hide away in that manor. It is a miracle that you’ve come out tonight. This marriage has been agreed upon by both families, and it will happen on March 30th. You will fulfill your duty and create an heir with Miranda.”
Fighting them appeared to be pointless. I threw my hands in the air in defeat. I stormed passed them without a single word. Out of the doors, I re-entered the party. I spotted Miranda right away with her parents and a few other guests. She waved me over, but I ignored her as I made my way out of the ballroom and to the front door. I needed Taylor’s calming.
ARRIVING AT THE manor, I didn’t say much to Langston during the drive, but I suspected he could tell I was angry. I entered the large and empty house. My months sharing the house with Taylor were the happiest I could ever remember. She brought a certain light and happiness to the old walls of Branagan Manor.
I dragged myself up the stairs and down the corridor of the East Wing. My bedroom sat empty as it had since Taylor left. Throwing my jacket over the back of the couch, I fished my phone from my pocket as I laid down on the bed. I could almost feel Taylor there with me, snuggled in close the way she used to.
The only thing I wanted was to hear her voice. I hadn’t spoken to her in over a week, and I was eager to know about her first week at the museum and just talk to her mindlessly like we used to.
The ringing echoed through me as I nervously awaited an answer. There was no guarantee she would answer my call, but there was no harm in trying.
“Hello... this is Tay,” her sleepy voice answered the line. I shivered at the sound of her voice, the voice that belonged to the woman that owned my heart.
“It’s me,” I spoke softly.
“Nate?” she questioned, obviously waking up a little more from her drowsy state.
“Sorry to wake you. I needed to hear your voice and know for myself you were okay,” I told her.
“I’m fine, Nate,” she said.
“That makes me happy,” I informed her as I smiled to myself. I really wanted to be in the
same place with her, smelling her delicate scent and holding her warm body. “Taylor?”
“Yes,” she breathed.
“I miss you,” I confessed. It was almost as if I could hear her smiling through the phone. My heart swelled.
“I miss you too,” she also confessed.
“How’s work been?”
“Great, I really like it there. My job is exciting, and it is exactly what I want to do.” I was happy to know she was happy. Of anything I could have in life, I wanted her happiness above all else.
“I’m glad. Did you get my flowers?”
“Yes, they were beautiful. Thank you.”
“I’m happy you like them,” I let her know. “I’ve been thinking about you all week.”
“Nate, we can’t,” she started, I heard the sadness in her voice.
“I know,” I quickly said, I couldn’t dare let her continue. We were silent for a moment, both of us not knowing what to say. “I better let you get back to sleep.”
“Yeah, an early morning tomorrow. I have quite a few school children coming through,” she informed me. I could hear the cheer in her voice. The job made her happy and brought her joy that I couldn’t possibly give.
“Bye.”
“Bye.
We ended our conversation plainly without any utterings of the love we both knew we shared. I stared at the ceiling. This was incredibly difficult. I knew the smartest idea was to leave her be and allow her to continue with her life uninterrupted by me, but her heart was calling to my own. For once, I wasn’t going to pick the smartest option.
EIGHT
Taylor
LAST NIGHT HADN’T been expected. Getting a call from Nate in the middle of the night was comforting, yet hard to get past. In only a few short minutes, I’d caved for a moment and admitted that I missed him. That was the last time, though; I had to work past the feelings I had and work toward moving on.
Once dressed, I skipped downstairs. Hearing Nate’s voice had brought a bit of joy to me. I hated feeling the way I did about him, but I knew those feelings would linger.