It was too complicated to think about. But if Fate existed then surely we wouldn’t have to make sure we stick to plan.
I wished Fate were real. Then I could let everything roll and sit back. I wouldn’t have to worry about every word I said. Or maybe it was Fate that we could change things in the past for something later in the future, some planned event I didn’t even know about?
But surely fate was real if we couldn’t have children - if there were the same recurring themes in each of our lives.
Anyway, there was a lot of juicy gossip here to sink my teeth into. Marion apparently had eyes all over this place but I wasn’t surprised since she clearly had not seen much beyond the walls of the estate.
I’d definitely always had the sneaky assassin trait. Except I doubted Marion went around killing people for money. She was just sneaky... not immoral.
In fact, she sounded like the most innocent girl. Always did as Daddy told her, but she had strong political opinions that frankly bored me but cleaned up on my history. Though I was surprised she even knew anything about politics as a woman - respect.
At least I now had enough relevant information to at least know a little about Abigail whose favourite meal was apparently roasted rabbit but she never got it. Abigail’s mother was the head of the staff going by the name of Cecilia and had a husband who worked in town as a blacksmith. See I was learning.
Then there was Harold and his quick companion Donald. He looked a lot like a Donald. They were my fathers ‘guards’ I guessed? But they were good friends to him and to myself.
By the sounds of it, my running away act was the most exciting thing to happen here since... my mother had tried to kill me I guessed?
Normal, mundane things.
CHAPTER 15
Time: 12th July 1661
Location: England, Montgomery estate
I wasn’t making progress.
If anything, every time I meditated I came out angrier, a hell of a lot more tired and more attracted to the idea of throwing myself from the tallest window.
I was doing everything I knew I should be doing. Well, everything Vix had told Ace to do and yet nothing was working.
The only progress being made was learning people names and acting as though I were Marion.
I sounded ridiculous… I was Marion.
The only slip up that had happened so far was when Abigail steered me away from a man holding the reins of a horse. When I asked why she told me she was afraid I’d be upset because the horse looked like Nugget. I rolled my eyes in response and asked who cared.
It was a hot evening and the sun was just going down when Abigail snuck up behind me and placed two cold hands on my bare shoulders. I flinched at her touch and turned my body to face her with a laugh. I’d been sitting under the shade of a tree in the centre of the courtyard attempting to meditate. All whilst I tried not to think about Landon and what might happen to me.
“What are you up to?” she asked.
I shrugged helplessly. How was I supposed to reply to that? I paused and watched the stable boy who was leading a black horse in the direction of the stables. A group of women sat outside the house washing clothes in a large tub. As they chattered away water splashed against the sides and a few children played with the bubbles by the open gates. Harold was posted at those gates with his arms crossed, a hat blocking the sun from his face as he kept an eye on me.
“It’s called meditating… I read it somewhere. It helps to clear your head,” I replied. She looked at me blankly before grinning.
“Yes, well you’re needed inside.”
I nodded my head and hauled myself up using the trunk of the tree before staggering my way back into the house, sweating heavily from the humid conditions.
Inside was cooler and my pale skin always burnt so easily during summer leaving me to look like a tomato with silver leaves.
I leant against the thick door breathing deeply and fanning myself. The hall was fairly dark and the open windows allowed a light breeze to blow the thin curtains into the room, making it look as though ghosts were posted every metre away.
Urgent voices were heard followed by the sound of heels and heavy footsteps. Then a man and woman appeared by the doorway that led to the kitchen.
“So how many guests is that altogether Ma’am?” An old man with small circular glasses perched on the end of his nose asked, staring at a pile of papers.
“Marion!” cried the woman, stepping into a stream of sunlight by one window. “This is our beautiful bride, Marion Elizabeth Montgomery.”
The woman was probably in her forties, with a round face and bubbly smile. She was the spitting image of Abigail, which meant she was probably her mother - Cecilia, the female head of staff. Of course, there was already a male head of staff but he was never seen.
“Hello.” I stepped away from the door and stood next to the woman praying this wasn’t going to be one of those situations where she knew everything about me and I knew nothing about her.
The man bowed his head towards me and shakily forced his glasses higher up his nose. Cecilia grinned brightly at me and then snapped her head toward the man.
She blinked, startled. “Pardon?”
“How many guests all together?”
“Roughly around one-hundred.”
I almost choked, what in the hell? How many people did I know? How big was this wedding? I mean it was only the 17th century.
“I trust that... she’ll look less... ill by the time of the wedding?” The man stumbled over his words, sizing me up and down with a concerned look.
“Oh, it’s just the heat. I’m only dehydrated.” I smiled meekly although he didn’t look convinced.
“Splendid, expect me in a couple of weeks for more arrangements and the visitation of the Count.”
Cecilia nodded her head smiling and we both watched Donald enter, holding the door open for the man and revealing a carriage waiting patiently.
I felt my stomach churn. The Count was coming in a couple of weeks? Would I meet him?
Well of course you’d meet him Nova.
But I didn’t know what to do, I wasn’t used to this. How was I going to address the man I had to marry?
“You look hot.” Cecilia placed a cool hand on my bare shoulder and I sank into it.
“I’m just hungry.” I rocked my neck from side to side with a sigh.
Cecilia smiled kindly at me. “Dinner won’t be long. Your aunt has been wanting to talk to you, shall I walk you to her room?” I sighed internally, maybe she could tell me something about this Count of Eldermore.
She didn’t wait for me to answer before she began walking up the staircase. I trailed behind her as we reached the first level. She walked me down a corridor identical to my own and I felt a draft that blew the hair from my face.
“Who was that man?” I asked.
“Oh, he was a friend of the Counts. We were discussing invitations, they’ll be sent out now. I can only hope they’ll arrive on time - this wedding is very short notice.”
I chewed the inside of my cheek. “And so how many days until the Count visits?”
Cecilia waved a hand in front of her face. “Oh, he said a couple of weeks but I imagine they’ll surprise us. That’s what happened to the others.” Others? “He’ll want to see if you’re fit.”
My face dropped - as did my mouth. She continued absentmindedly. “Oh don’t look so sad, no doubt with a young fertile body like yours you’ll be able to bear him a child to continue the bloodline.” My eyes were bulging.
“Although, I think it might be him who’s the problem.” She winked cheekily. “If the rumours are true you might be lucky.”
“Rumours? What rumours?” I was ignored as Cecilia paused at a large oak door causing me to almost fall into her as she knocked politely.
“Come in,” my aunt’s voice called and the door clicked open. I stepped in to face my aunt who sat at a vanity table powdering her face.
“It’s so hu
mid,” she moaned.
Her room was larger than mine. A canopy bed stood in the centre, rich dark wood and red sheets, and an easel sat in the centre of the room under a thick fur rug.
The door was shut behind me and I walked over to my aunt. “Oh sit down Marion.” She gestured towards a cushioned seat beside the table.
“I’m supposed to give you a talk on how you should act around your husband-to-be.” She examined her face in the mirror, stretching out her face to smooth a wrinkle.
“What talk?” I asked cautiously.
Please don’t be a sex talk. Please for the love of God this life is already awful as it is - there was no need to make it worse.
“I don’t think you need it. But I hope you’ve kept yourself pure for when you need to consummate the marriage,” she continued and then turned her head to face me with a stern look. She looked a lot like my father at that moment. “You must be a virgin.”
I nodded my head quickly. “Of course I am!” Lies… Well, maybe not for Marion. Marion was definitely a virgin.
“Listen closely, Marion.” She took hold of my hand and placed it on her knee - how could she breathe in that red gown? “The Count is a very dangerous man surrounded by very dangerous people. You must do as he says or you won’t only get yourself killed but you will also ruin this family. You would destroy the lives of everyone here.” She was gripping onto my hand tight enough I was surprised the bone didn’t turn to dust. “Do you understand?”
I nodded my head sheepishly with my eyes wide open. I could do that, for as long as I was here at least. It’s not like I hadn’t worked with bad people before. I was a bad person.
“Good, now help me with my corset,” she sighed. I stood up and went to her back and saw it was already tightened.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“I need my breasts to be falling out of my dress and my waist to be even smaller than yours is,” she replied, gripping onto the table. I did as she said, listening to her speak whilst I attempted to pull it tighter without breaking the ribbon.
“I know the last thing you probably want is to marry this man. I understand - really Marion,” she said, gasping for breath. “Tighter,” she managed to say, though it came out more like a wheeze.
“But you must force him to consummate the marriage even if he doesn’t want to…. with the rumours…” My stomach churned at the thought. Every time I heard that I instantly began picturing an old man in a wig touching me. I just had to ‘Think of England’ and put up with it. I’d consider it a job I decided. I’d been trained on how to use my body to my advantage before killing people.
“What are the rumours?” I asked.
My aunt only pursed her lips. “Just… give him a child please and then both our families' reputations will be reconciled.” I looked at her in amazement. That was all she was going to say? What was our reputation? What was his?
“Now as soon as he arrives - whenever that may be. You stay in your room. Don’t let anyone see you until I’ve come and prepared you."
Prepared me? What the hell, I'm not some dish to be served. I was not a chicken to be buttered.
⚔
Dinner lightened my mood thankfully, and it hadn’t been completely silent like every other night I’d been here since I arrived. It seemed we were a close family, despite how dysfunctional we clearly were.
My father, however, dampened it with his agitated tapping on the table. He was concerned about the estate. He needed to impress the Count in his home if the wedding was ever going to happen.
Once dinner was over, Abigail followed me up the stairs chattering away. “I ran you a cool bath. It might help with your illness.”
I nodded my head, holding onto the bannister for support. I felt like crap. My head was pounding and my muscles were uncomfortably tight.
Being released from the itchy clothes was a relief I welcomed each night though. I’d recently scrapped the corset, which probably raised questions from Abigail, but I was too tired to care.
And the water was wonderful. The windows were open and I could actually see the stars for once. Real stars, hundreds of them unaffected by light pollution. That was what I missed from the past - and the only thing I missed.
I sank into the cool water with my eyes closed, listening to Abigail’s short breaths as she began massaging me, careful not to wet my hair. There was a knock on the door and Abigail ran over, slipping outside.
She popped her head back in after a moment. “I’ll be right back, shall I get some oils whilst I’m gone?” I nodded my head smiling. “Be quiet when you come back in.”
She clearly didn’t think me asking her to be quiet was weird so I took this opportunity to shut out the sound of night wildlife and closed my eyes.
It was easier in the water. I could pretend the darkness was engulfing me and it felt a lot more real than it just being in my mind. Sometimes when I got really frustrated I started to wonder if my father was right. Maybe I was genuinely insane: I wasn’t from the future - I had no power - no past lives. This was my only life and everything I believed wasn’t real. I was just a poor insane girl who believed she had a special gift. Except now I couldn’t use it. It would be easier if that were real. Then it wouldn’t mean that I’d be stuck in the past. It wouldn’t mean there was a rebellion. It would also mean I wasn’t at risk of being killed by my friends.
I could vaguely feel Abigail’s hands massaging into my neck and pouring most likely expensive oil onto her hands, massaging them into my skin. But it wasn’t helping; it didn’t lull me into it. I couldn’t see my Totem and now I was too focused on her hands on my back. Although this time I wasn’t angry, I was calm. I sighed out of relief as her hands found the spot causing me so much pain.
“Thank you,” I said.
She poked her head round the side and smiled. “I’ll go fetch your nightgown.”
As I stepped out of the tub I became slightly cold. Goosebumps rose to my skin and I began drying myself with a cloth. There was a gush of wind that came in through the open window, blowing the candles out so I was dipped in darkness. I looked out the window, finding a balcony below me. I could jump. Quite easily, I could jump and escape, but what good would that do? I’d never be found and I’d change the timeline.
Not to mention the fact I was naked.
Maybe another day.
CHAPTER 16
Time: 20th July 1661
Location: England, Montgomery Estate
I noticed the entire atmosphere of the estate had changed. Everything was spotless for once. The courtyard was beautiful and the flowers were neatly kept. But it was the servants that ran around panicked and my father’s screams from downstairs that made my stomach churn.
Then, one day it stopped and nothing was heard. The busy footsteps came to a halt.
I dared not look out the window but my eyes had already drifted towards the thick curtains. I peered down to a black carriage, rimmed with gold.
I wanted to throw up. A flash of white hair opened the carriage door and as I peered further around to face the entrance I realised all the staff were lined up as my father walked down the stairs.
My door was swung open and my aunt and Abigail appeared with eerily calm expressions.
“Holy shit,” I hissed. Both their eyebrows raised in shock.
“Pardon?” they replied surprised by my language.
I smiled sheepishly. “I’m just scared,” I replied as they brought out a new dress: a beautiful deep yellow, embroidered with gold flowers on a wide skirt with ruffles around the waist - an enchantress dipped in gold. Despite my protests, the corset was fitted until I couldn’t speak anymore. They quickly fixed my silver curls into a neat bun, exposing my slender neck and they adjusted a simple necklace to my throat.
I was never really a nervous person. I tended to act confident and plaster a smile whenever I wasn’t looking forward to something. Confidence was in my job description... with the additional killing on the side. However, wa
lking down the flights of stairs and being led from the hallway to my father’s office was the most nervous I’d ever been.
Maybe it was because I didn’t know what was going to happen for once? In most of my lives, I knew them inside and out. Here I didn’t know who the hell I was marrying. But at least it wasn’t like I didn’t know how to be a wife - I could remember being married before.
My aunt looped her arm into mine and the office doors were swung open.
My father sat at the head of the table, a glass of scotch in his hand. He was dressed in his favourite white wig and wearing the nicest outfit I think I’d ever seen him in. He looked relaxed - laughing even. Damnit. A part of me had been hoping the Count would hate this place.
Harold and Donald stood by the windows, their hands in front of them, also smiling as though the Count had said something mildly amusing.
Then the Count; he wasn’t hard to spot and although his back was facing me I could feel the importance he radiated. His clothes also struck an impression of power with their gold embroidery. We looked like we were matching. Coincidence or intentional on my aunt’s behalf I didn’t know, but it made me squirm.
When he turned to face me, my heart sunk. He stood from his chair, his chest puffed and he stalked his way over to me. My aunt bowed first and he politely took her hand bringing it to her lips.
“My Lord,” she smiled.
And then he turned me. He was maybe in his late thirties and wore a stupid white wig with dark facial hair.
The room must have practically heard my body sink with displeasure. His eyes were a dark grey and looked at me with only mild interest.
He looked… weak. By that I mean, he looked sensitive, slightly stuck up and as though he battled judgment in cruel manners.
When he took my hand and pressed his lips I flashed him with ‘seductive’ eyes. I’d been trained to deal with this kind of stuff - to use my body to my advantage and I could do it with him. It would be a challenge but I could definitely make him obedient.
NOVA: The Time Bender Series Book 1 Page 12