A Feather

***The summer of 1766, six years ago.***

It was the week after my wedding night. A night during which I had laid awake, listening to the snores of my now-husband. After meeting my husband for the first time, we had soon entered into matrimony. An awkward week had followed. During which I had soon become acquainted with his distrustful nature. He had a habit of “testing” our drinks and food before eating them, as well as making sure that no intruders were in the house every evening. After a week of living in this torment, my husband called me to his study. I, at the time, had been in our garden to see if there were any changes I could make. I was thinking of planting peonies.

When I walked into his study, I could see that my husband had a grim expression on his face. His hair was unkempt, and his face was pale. A warm fire burned behind me , across his desk. Although the closed behind him was swarmed with books, they looked new, as though he had never touched them.

“I’m being sent away to the frontline again.”

I quickly looked at the floor when his intense gaze met mine. I didn’t know whether I was relieved or disappointed to hear this news. I hadn’t exactly gotten to know him very well in this week, but I didn’t want to be in this large house by myself.

Besides, despite his paranoia, his role as a rising army officer had intrigued me. King Adelmo’s hunger for power was infamous, and he had asserted his troops far into a neighboring country. It was therefore no surprise that Peyton was needed. I only wished it hadn’t been so soon after our wedding.

After all, it would have been desirable to know my husband properly.

“When will you return,” I said, looking up to meet his gaze.

I hadn’t dared to look him in the eye during our wedding night. It had not been the physical intimacy that had intimidated me. However, emotional intimacy, through the eyes, was a whole different matter. It was still hard for me to look him in the eye now.

“I do not know,” was the simple answer he had given me. And that was all I would know, for the next six years to come. Until one morning, when, in the loving embrace of Frederick, I had received a letter from him.

***

December, 24, 1772

Mrs. C. Thomas

Chestnut Grove

Dear Clarice,

I’m writing you to answer your last question, which I answered so poorly. I will soon return to Chestnut Grove. I have heard that you have since moved to His Majesty’s court. Soon, I will make arrangements to join you.

Take care,

Peyton.

***

“Take care,” he had said! The audacity of it all still made me angry. He had left me alone for six years, the only news of him I gathered had been from newspapers and word of mouth! My husband had gained quite a reputation as a country hero, in the six years that had went by. However, I knew him just as badly all any other person in this country! Meanwhile, I had been wilting away at Chestnut Grove, having only servants and the occasional visitor to comfort me. Thus, when the Queen had granted me a position as a Lady-in-Waiting, because I was the wife of a hero, I had readily accepted. I had slowly started to adjust to court life, which came with its own challenges, rules and temptations.

Its challenges had been learning to horseride, speaking Dutch and coping with the annoying remarks of Lady Silverton. Her nasal voice was usually only reserved for children that were taught the rules at court. However, occassionaly newcomers also had to be humiliated by her constant lecutres about the Rules of Propriety.

One of the temptations at court was lying next to me on the morning I had received my husband’s letter.

***The winter of 1772.***

“Take care!” he said, scoffing, and grabbing the paper from my hands. I was laying with my back towards him, while reading it aloud. The sun was shining through the blue curtains of my room.

“Is that all he says to you, after leaving you for all these years?”

I sighed and turned towards him. His golden hair, normally obscured by a wig, was hanging lazily around his face, his blue eyes sparking with indignation.

“I have never known him to be a man of many words. He left me without an explanation when he went off to war.”

“It was for the better,” he mumbled, while crumbling the letter.

“He leaves you for so long, and expects you to eagerly await his return?”

He took my hand and kissed it, while watching me with worried eyes.

A knot twisted around in my stomach.

“He is my lawful husband, in name at least.”

I avoided Fredrick’s eyes, focusing instead on the elaborately decorated, heavy covers of my bed.

“What will you do when he returns,” he said softly, the words brushing over the back of my hand.

“I don’t know,” I whispered back, truthfully. I hadn’t seen him in ages and I didn’t know what he was planning to do. We were married, and if he wished to live as husband and wife again, I had no choice but to obey him.

In public, at least.

***Start of the year 1773.***

Peyton’s long legs strode towards me. I looked around, at the lavish dresses and suits around me. I had to be able to hide somewhere. However, I saw that his gaze was already locked onto me. There was no escaping now. I was at a loss for words. He looked a little bewildered, but neater than I was used to seeing him. His dark eyes looked me up and down, taxingly. His red uniform fit his broad shoulders well. It was hard to look him in the eye, especially when he was watching me like that, while being utterly quiet. I didn’t have the faintest clue what he was going to say or do next.

I definitely didn’t expect him to not say anything at all. Instead, he stood very close to me. Suddenly, I couldn’t feel my feet touch the ground anymore.

I was being lifted as if I weighed nothing more than a feather.