Among the flowers

Thick sweet perfume from the robe of Jasmine flowers adorning the courtyard walls permeated the air as they pulsed slowly and rhythmically against the smooth stone as though it were breathing. Soft rays of twilight glinted through the glass table before me casting a sea of shimmering rainbow across the lush blooming Eden onto a colossal antique mirror that stood sentinel among a thicket of snowy roses. A dull knot wrought in the depths of my soul as I beheld myself within the ornately gilded frame; a dishevelled creature, pitiful and unseemly among this sanctuary of decadence. Grains of wheat burst forth from the mornings threshing clung to my dried brittle hair no matter how much Cook picked at them for me. My eyes drowned in dark pools of weariness holding a heavy gaze on my sunken face forever infused with the grime of a life’s worth of toil while the Sunday best dress offered no lustre to the hollow frame from which it hung.

“You’re beautiful.”

These words echoed in the cool air as I turned to meet the pensive countenance of my host. His inky hair and jet-black eyes stood harsh and stark against milky skin, as sweetly natured as a newborn lamb for one with such imposing presence and unfathomable in his breadth and depth of knowledge for being hardly beyond the threshold of adulthood. Indeed, it was his youth that sowed the seeds of trepidation in my Master’s mind, yet strength of reputation prevailed so much so that this upstart entrepreneur of merchantry became as much a part of the manor as the minarets and balustrades. For nigh on a year, he would arrive with the waxing moon bearing silks and muslin woven with golden thread, heady brown spices that ensnared senses into trance, sapphires and rubies as dark and plump as ripe plums and mountains of ancient books in all manner of strange and curious tongues. All these treasures and more I would house in the manor library or set aside to be resold as instructed by this eccentric man, first in silence, then with passionate inquiry about every last trinket as our walls of formality melted away by the soft honey glow of lamplight. Oft would we talk of the marvellous wonders he encountered throughout the world and curiously enough, he seemed as taken with my foolish enthusiasm as I with his stories. He kept infinite patience accompanied by tenderly reassuring smiles as I struggled to make sense of the scrawling catalogues he penned, guiding me letter by letter for months and passionately espousing a praise I had never before received when I read my first full sentence unaided. “See” he would say, “you’re as clever as any high-borne lady, you just needed to be shown.”

But that night I felt less than clever and oh so very far from beautiful. A weary sigh escaped my chest and eased my mind into bittersweet jollity as I flicked grains from my hair at my host. “Oh yes Victor, as comely as a Hatter during full moon.” Delighted trickles of laughter caught in his throat, “Would that you had accepted any of my gifts you may well see yourself as I see you”. “I should look a bit preposterous scrubbing floors and feeding pigs in silk, besides such things play no part in my esteem of you, it's enough now that I will understand any letters you send.” The tail of my response cut through Victors burgeoning joy like a sword and pulled at the sinews of my heart as I ventured forth to address the reality we had long been avoiding, that the completion of Victor’s contract with the master meant this resplendent orchestra of budding English spring would be our first and last moment of unimpeded intimacy. “It was kind of the master to permit me here; I should hate if my final moments with you were spent loading crates for market.” A playful smile spread along Victor's face, “No it would have been grand, sequester you among the supplies for my ship and if you irked me, I could simply toss the crate overboard.” “So long as you had thrown in some food and a cutlass to assail any belligerent merchants I may encounter; I would have forgiven you.”

Hours of playful reminiscing stirred the unspoken bond between us as delicately as a Willow branch kissing the surface of a brimming crystal pond, however a dull throb forged by the fires of an unanswered question pressed upon my mind until I could bear it no longer and resolved to confront him. “Why do you refuse my wish to be with you?” Victor's grip flinched tight over my hand as he cast his furrowed brow from the pleading of my eyes to the tendrils of emerald vine reaching towards us through the cracks in the walls. “The life I lead is no less dangerous and unforgiving than the first time you asked this, I can’t bear the thought of being the cause of your burden.” “It's a burden to adventure the world? Or are you so far removed from those below your station you honestly believe I’d consider the prospect of danger more unbearable than a stagnant life of lost opportunity?” Victor shook his head and sighed, “This is foolish, you know I don’t entertain such thoughts. Please let's spend what little time we have left in happy spirits.” “I shall not be content until I know why, is there a wife or some betrothal?” “I would be half-witted to romance my paramour in my own garden where a wife could easily see. The truth is I simply cannot trust myself around you for too long, no more and no less.” “What? You make no sense.” “You cannot begin to imagine what it is you ask of me; I would have you wild with fury before thinking I were a beast. Please trust that this is for the best.” Umbrage seeped through my exasperated bones like a poison yet my pride was determined to speak its peace. “I feel no fury, merely dejection and defeat. If your affections are so earnest and profuse why deny me with such unwavering conviction? All these gifts you shower upon me yet you cannot give of yourself, the only thing I truly want. Goodbye Victor, may we never meet again.” I made to leave when suddenly his voice resounded through the garden “Wait! I.....please just.... please wait, please....”

Bright shining stars twinkled down from the deep purple ocean of night bidding the world into a tranquil silence broken only by the soft breeze singing through the trees mingled with Victor's footsteps as he made way towards the scullery. I watched through the window as he busied back and forth in such a dreamlike haze blood burst from the flesh of his palm like juice from a swollen orange at the provocation of a corkscrew without so much as a wince from his lips. He returned in heavy strides cradling a pair of sparkling flutes half full of swirling crimson between his swathed hand. He sat as languidly as a setting sun and rested a glass before me. “What's this?” “Merlot, I found a nice bottle during my last stop in Bordeaux.” I reached for the glass but Victor stayed my hand and imprisoned my attention within his darkly meditating eyes.

“Do you love me?”

“You’re well aware that I do.”

“And you know I love you?”

“So you like to say.”

His eyes twinged sharply at the wounding words before fortifying his conviction with a soothing breath. “Will you marry me, Emily?” My nerves lit afire, "You cruel bastard, how could you....” but his indignation flouted my criticism before I could finish it, “If it is not plain to you how serious I am you're a fool.” Victor leaned forward and kissed me and as he did the worries of the world washed away into a cool endless abyss as the universe fell into a synchronous peace. Our foreheads stayed gently pressed as our lips parted before he repeated the question.

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes, yes I will.”

We stood and melding into a soothing embrace, clinking our glasses in toast. Victor placed the glasses on the table once the last sip was gone, “What did you think of it?” “I'm not sure. It tasted oddly of tin, though I’ve never been fortunate enough to try wine before, perhaps the aristocracy just holds a fixation for peculiar flavours.” His hand ran smooth against my cheek, lifting my face to meet his gently probing eyes, “How do you feel?” “I’m fine I.....actually I.....I feel rather strange....” Seemingly from nothing, my legs began to weigh down like anchors, mulled light from the pale torches on the wall suddenly stung my eyes like bright thorns as I struggled to breathe and the searing pain of a thousand iron brands burned in every last fibre of my body as I collapsed. Victor stroked me with the tender compassion of a parent comforting a sick babe as I contorted in unholy movements echoing forth guttural screeches of pain and terror from my belly.

Time fell away as my mind ebbed and flowed on the precipice of consciousness and it seemed and eternity before my voice finally founded again, “V-Victor....what happened?” “It's alright, try to relax. Here, squeeze my hand, can you see me?” I blinked the milkiness of confusion from my eyes to absorbed the garden. All at once the richness of nature exploded before me in a luxurious dance between my senses. Colours burst in saturated exuberance, the sounds of wind and water, creaking wood and servant chatter a hundred yards away interlaced together in a glorious symphony and the scent of flowers was so potent I could nearly taste them. My mind wandered this sumptuous new world with the delighted of a curious child when the antique mirror found my attention and turned my blood to ice.

“Victor I....I’m not there....”

“Not where?”

“Th-the mirror, I’m not in the mirror! Wh-where am I where...where are you.... you’re not there.... Victor we’re not there, we're not there look we’re not there!”

“Pay no mind to that, just breathe and rest”

A high-pitched whistle pealed from Victors lips summoning the mansions steward. He bid the man come closer with a sweep of his hand, “Here please Mr Walsh, she’ll be hungry.” Mr Walsh stooped down and rolled back his sleeve to reveal a parade of scars marching up and down his forearm before offering it to me with a calm coaxing smile, “S’alright miss, go on.” I sat steeped in a bewildered horror with no clue as to what they expected of me when I smelled it flowing like a river beneath the steward's skin, the strong metallic smell of that strange wine I had so disliked that now seemed so...so...

I turned to Victor pleading dangerous questions with my eyes and he looked back in waves of pure and honest devotion. “Do you trust me my love?” I nestled into his embrace like a baby Robin curling into the warm refuge of a tree hollow “Yes, I trust you.” I raised the offering to my lips as a strange new instinct swelled in the core of my body, I bit down and began to drink.