Source
I arrived at the top of the hill. There was a man sitting on the bench. He was handsome in a quiet way, and tall, with light hair and piercing blue eyes.
"Miss?" he said. I came over and he took both my hands and looked me up and down.
"I'm so glad you've come," he said. "I had hoped there was a real woman under that abominable corset."
I laughed, for the first time in a very long time. It was a genuine, vibrating sound that resonated deep in my belly.
"What is your name, madam?" he asked.
"Elizabeth. He told me my parents were dead. I was raised at the school for orphans in the city."
"You fight with good intentions. I'm Weaver, son of Scholar."
"Elizabeth," I replied, coming over and laying a gentle hand on his arm. I could sense that he had an abundance of good intentions as well. He was strong and earnest, and a member of the noble class.
"You're my ideal. I still can't believe you chose to come out here with me. It's so dangerous."
"I have to be. Where else would I go?"
"I don't know how any woman could consent to this," he said. I laughed again.
"You have an amusing laugh," he said. "It reminds me of wind chimes."
"Thank you," I replied. For a moment, the sight was too much for me. "Let's go into the cottage."
We spent the rest of the afternoon together, whispering. He told me stories about his family. His father had six sisters. He loved playing lawn bowling, but that was childish. He wasn't sure why he liked it, but he did. There was a whole side of his life he wanted to forget about, but he couldn't. He was so handsome, and he was such a gentleman. I believed him. I believed every word. He was honorable and strong, and he brought me out of myself, into the sun.
We spent the afternoon on the lawn together. We were together, in our own world, in a place we had created for us. He kissed me. He had come to court me, cautiously, but the time was right. We kissed passionately.
"Will you come back and see me again?" I asked. He hesitated before answering.
"Do you think my status as a catch is a significant reason that you would agree to see me again?" he asked.
"No," I replied. "I think it's just a bonus. I like you, and I believe you love me."
"It's a gamble. I'm a gambler."
"Then why not come to the city with me?" I asked.
"I don't know," he said. "But I will be at the house on Saturday evening. Tell your mother I'll be over after midnight."
"I will," I replied. "I'll not leave without you."
When he finally left, I was in tears. I was so happy, and yet so sad. I had never been this happy, or this complete. I fell asleep a clouded mess and woke up with a pounding headache. For days, I couldn't get out of bed. The hard work had worn me out.
In the end, I just couldn't do it. I hadn't followed through with him. I never told my parents. I had lived my whole life believing that I was the only real orphan. It had been a facade that I endured. I pitied myself, though I was too proud to admit that it was all an act. I had to protect myself. I had to be difficult. I had to make sure that no man would ever understand me. And then I met Weaver and now I felt like a broken child, betrayed by my home.
I couldn't live with myself. I couldn't live with him. I tried to tell him over and over again. I tried to give him a reason to come back to me. But there was nothing he could do. There was nothing anyone could do. I walked out into the field, and I was still wearing my black, bridal gown. I was so beautiful, in that dress. It was a beautiful dress. I had worn the dress for so long that it felt like my skin. I had called it my skin for so long, heard it called my skin so many times, that it wasn't even my skin. It was my wedding dress. I was a bride. I was a real bride. I had never been a real bride.
I walked out into the field in the middle of the day and I waited for darkness. I couldn't bear to turn back into the house. The moment of truth had to come soon. I had to face the music. What would become of me? I had to face the music and turn back into myself. I had to pretend that all my parents had told me was true.
The clouds rolled in. I looked up into the sky. The clouds rolled over me, and the rain fell down. As the rain fell down on me, it washed me clean. The rain washed away my crimes, and I was renewed. I had no idea what lay ahead for me.
I was nine years old again. I waited, until the sky had an orange glow. I walked over to his house. He was sitting in his lawn chair in the yard.
"Weaver!" I called out. He was startled, but he got up, and he stared right into my eyes. He looked me up and down. I was covered in soot. I looked like a disfigured creature, and then I collapsed onto the ground and began to weep.