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HighlandAngel
Super-Earth
- Joined
- Mar 1, 2013
Northumbria, England 1818
The manor house was ominous, sitting tall on the moor. It looked like a medieval castle, big and had walls of stone with towers to the east and west. This was her new home. The home of her new husband. A man she had never met. It had surprised her that marriages were still done by proxy. The practice was positively ancient. Yet, here she stood, married to a stranger whom she never met, standing outside of his home. Lady Jolene Montford stepped from the carriage and fixed her gown and cloak. The place was an ominous one, nothing like her home back in London. Not the home had been cheery but it was decidedly happier looking than this place. Jolene was the daughter of a rather horrible landowner who partook in gambling. He had lost his lands in a bet and she was without a dowry. She had been determined to a fate of playing seamstress to make end meet and had been fine with such a fate. That was until her father received a letter from the mysterious Duke of Northumbria. He was not a circular part of high society and she had never met him. Rumors abounded that he was like a dragon in a cave, locked away and seen by none. A fair lord who was never unfair or cruel to his tenants but ruled them from afar.
His letter had offered her father three hundred pounds a year. A tidy sum for certain. All he had to do was sign a contract of marriage and make her the man's wife. And he had. She had been sold like a slave and it irritated her. Stepping into the house, a servant quickly approached and bowed.
"Your Grace. Welcome...I am James Porter, your husband's head of house staff, come to see you settled in and your things placed in your room."
Jolene frowned. "Am I not meeting His Grace?" She asked, her gaze sweeping the foyer. Inside was far more impressive than the outside. It was well kept and well decorated, though certainly more masculine than she would like.
"Not now. He is preoccupied. You will see him this evening, after dinner...."
"Does his Grace not eat dinner?" She asked then frowned. "It seems strange that he hides himself..."
"His instructions were that you meet him after dinner, in your chambers...I cannot naysay him Your Grace...." He said. Jolene looked down and nodded then followed after Mr. Porter, gazing at portraits as they walked. She did not see many servants. What would cause a man to live such a life of isolation? She supposed that eventually she would find out.
The manor house was ominous, sitting tall on the moor. It looked like a medieval castle, big and had walls of stone with towers to the east and west. This was her new home. The home of her new husband. A man she had never met. It had surprised her that marriages were still done by proxy. The practice was positively ancient. Yet, here she stood, married to a stranger whom she never met, standing outside of his home. Lady Jolene Montford stepped from the carriage and fixed her gown and cloak. The place was an ominous one, nothing like her home back in London. Not the home had been cheery but it was decidedly happier looking than this place. Jolene was the daughter of a rather horrible landowner who partook in gambling. He had lost his lands in a bet and she was without a dowry. She had been determined to a fate of playing seamstress to make end meet and had been fine with such a fate. That was until her father received a letter from the mysterious Duke of Northumbria. He was not a circular part of high society and she had never met him. Rumors abounded that he was like a dragon in a cave, locked away and seen by none. A fair lord who was never unfair or cruel to his tenants but ruled them from afar.
His letter had offered her father three hundred pounds a year. A tidy sum for certain. All he had to do was sign a contract of marriage and make her the man's wife. And he had. She had been sold like a slave and it irritated her. Stepping into the house, a servant quickly approached and bowed.
"Your Grace. Welcome...I am James Porter, your husband's head of house staff, come to see you settled in and your things placed in your room."
Jolene frowned. "Am I not meeting His Grace?" She asked, her gaze sweeping the foyer. Inside was far more impressive than the outside. It was well kept and well decorated, though certainly more masculine than she would like.
"Not now. He is preoccupied. You will see him this evening, after dinner...."
"Does his Grace not eat dinner?" She asked then frowned. "It seems strange that he hides himself..."
"His instructions were that you meet him after dinner, in your chambers...I cannot naysay him Your Grace...." He said. Jolene looked down and nodded then followed after Mr. Porter, gazing at portraits as they walked. She did not see many servants. What would cause a man to live such a life of isolation? She supposed that eventually she would find out.