Cursing her luck, Calantha dapped her face with her kerchief as her elegant shoe kicked up small clouds of dirt. She clutched her parasol, its delicate fabric offering scant protection from the heat, the sun was relentless in its ferocity. For a moment, she regretted her decision to visit Victoria. She could have stayed back at the farmhouse even though it was the last place she wanted to be, but was it not better than being sun-toasted again?
As she approached the carriage station, the coachmen lounging in the shade called out to her, "If it isn't our lovely tomato in a fancy dress!" One of them jeered, a burly man with a thick beard, his comment elicited laughter from his colleagues.
Another coachman, a lanky fellow with a mischievous grin, said, "She looks more like a beetroot today, eh?"
Calantha's cheeks flushed, but she maintained her poise. She was ready to approach the men and give them a piece of her mind, but a hand quickly grabbed her, "That's enough already," Martha called out to the men.
"Old Martha, don't be a spoilsport now." A portly man replied from the shade, sucking his teeth most disgustingly
Martha glared at them, "The heat is enough already, don't add to people's distress today, Henry, or I am going to smack your head so hard with this parasol." Surprised, Calantha looked at the older lady, the look on her face told her Martha meant every word.
The bearded man placed a hand on Henry's shoulder to stop him from saying anything, "Martha, not today." He called out.
Calantha and Martha entered the waiting carriage. It was just the two of them. Just like before, Calantha felt Martha's eyes drilling a hole in her head. Either the woman was trying to figure her out or she enjoyed making people uncomfortable with her stare.
Martha was the type of woman who wanted to know everything and everyone, Calantha was on top of her list, but with how uptight the young girl was, she didn't see herself knowing anything.
Martha's eyes ran through Calantha's features. The young lady exuded an air of aristocracy, her refined features bespeaking a noble lineage, but what would a noblewoman be doing in their neighbourhood? Their neighbourhood was for no noblewoman, they were a bunch of farmers and coachmen's wives as well as other insignificant members of the society.
Calantha's hair was a fiery mane of red, loosely held back by a band. The vibrant colour was a striking contrast to her delicate skin. Her eyes were piercing green, like emeralds sparkling in the sunlight. They seemed to gleam with inner intensity and intelligence. The shape of her eyes was almond-like, slanting upwards slightly at the outer corners, lending an exotic allure to her gaze.
Her nose was straight and proportional to her other facial features, while her lips were full and inviting for men with good appetites. Her facial features, though delicate, yet strong, and her mannerisms spoke of aristocratic heritage. Could Martha be wrong? Calantha could be another lowborn, who by luck, turned out to be very beautiful. Ah, curiosity was killing Martha. There was only one way to find answers and that was making the girl talk. The noble always had one thing in common and that was PRIDE.
When Calantha had had enough of the staring, she stated firmly, "It's rude to stare at someone like that."
Martha's cheeks flushed, "I am sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." Calantha nodded to the apology, not bothering to say another word.
"Are you not supposed to say something to me, Anita?" asked Martha. When no response came from Calantha, Martha's brows drew together in a frown, "I am talking to you. I didn't take you for a snub, young girl."
Realising the woman was talking to her, Calantha flashed her a look of confusion, "Why would you call me Anita?"
It was Martha's turn to be confused as she asked, "Is that not your name?"
Calantha was about to bark a 'NO', but quickly remembered her last conversation with the woman where she had lied about her name because she wanted to keep whatever little integrity she had as Lady Calantha. She wouldn't dare risk the chances of people knowing her identity.
Realising she was thinking too much, she said, "Of course, my name is Anita. Forgive my forgetfulness, it's just that people usually call me Anie and I have quite gotten used to the name." She managed a forced smile she hoped would convince the woman and not make her suspicious. "What were you saying earlier?"
Not thinking too much of what happened, Martha said, "I asked if you didn't have something to tell me?"
Calantha stared at the woman blankly as she stirred her brain to remember something, but nothing was coming to her, "Anything like what?"
"Anything that follows when someone helps you."
Calantha stared at the woman for a few seconds, completely clueless about what the woman was referring to. "I am quite not following your line of thinking, Martha."
"You know, earlier, I saved you from those rude coachmen. courtesy demands that when someone helps you, you offer words of appreciation."
"Words of appreciation? Are you saying I should thank you for interfering in a matter that concerned me?"
Martha was surprised, "Interference? You call me helping you interference?"
"What is there to call it? Last time I checked, I had everything under control and now you are expecting a thank you from me. Don't be ridiculous, woman, things don't work like that."
"Now I know not to come to your aid next time."
"That would be very much appreciated," Calantha said dismissively, her eyes trained outside the window.
Martha was seething, but at least she had accomplished one thing. Anita was a noblewoman, but from where? How did she end up in their neighbourhood?
More passengers entered the carriage and in a short time, they left the station.
Upon reaching Victoria's manor, she was asked by the gatekeeper to wait outside which was unusual, but she waited. Victoria was her link to Duke Harold, who had promised to communicate with her all the time through Victoria.
Inside Victoria's room, she asked, "What was that all about?"
"What was what all about?" Victoria feigned confusion.
"I was asked to wait for your order before I could be let inside."
Victoria's perfect brows drew together in concern and apology. "I am so sorry about that! As you might have noticed, we changed some of the servants. To ensure our security, I was ordered by my parents to make sure word gets to me before they let anyone into the manor."
Calantha accepted the reason wholeheartedly. "Security is very important."
"How have you been?" Victoria asked, brows drawn together in what Calantha believed was concern.
"I am alive, am I not?" Calantha replied with a small smile.
"I will take that as you are doing well but you don't look so well. Lan, Is everything alright?"
Calantha considered confiding in Victoria about her predicament, but ultimately decided against it, fearing it would be too humiliating. She struggled to explain her situation without sounding irrational, especially the part about being stuck with the infamous ex-convict they had only been discussing a few days ago in Madame Agnes's store.
To avoid the embarrassment, Calantha convinced herself it would be better to wait until the ordeal was over before sharing the story. By then, she reasoned, they could look back on it and laugh together.
"I am alright, Tory, just that I am still overwhelmed with the death of my father." That wasn't a lie.
Touched, Victoria grabbed Calantha's hands in hers. "Oh, you poor thing. I know what it feels like to lose someone you love. I have been there before when I lost my grandmother. When she died, I thought I was going to die too."
"Did it feel like a deep hole in your heart?" Calantha asked, eyes welling up softly.
"Yes, it felt like a hole in my heart that could never be filled. Not even my parents could fill the void the death left on me." Victoria chuckled, but it wasn't one of joy. "A very lovely woman she was. Right now, I understand you are in a very dark place, but you need to be strong. You will make it through. All the sadness will go away one day. You will be happy again, I am sure that is what your father wants for you."
I bet if he wanted that for me, he wouldn't have trapped me with the scamp, Calantha thought. Yes, she still loved and cherished her father, but that didn't change how she felt about the wrong he did to her.
"Lan, if you can't be strong for yourself, then do it for Theo. He needs you now." Calantha nodded, "I want you to know that no matter how dark your life might seem to be right now, the darkness must pass over. There will always be light at the end of the tunnel for you—"
"Blimey! Tory, what exactly is your plan, eh? Do you want to make me feel better or worse?"
Victoria's cheeks flushed, "I am sorry, I got too carried away. I wanted to make you feel better."
Calantha's full lips tilted slightly at the corners, "And, that my friend, is exactly what you have done. Thank you for your kind words, I really appreciate it."
Victoria nodded as she asked, "So what brought you out here today?"
"Did you receive any letter from Duke Harold for me?"
"Oh," Victoria's hands were clenched on her sides. "Yes, I did."
Calantha's face brightened, her lips splitting into a full-blown smile. When the sealed letter was safe in her dress, she turned her attention back to Victoria, "Did you check the wedding dress as I asked you to? Is she done with it?"
Victoria wanted to remind her friend that she was no slave to be sent on errands, but she kept her words to herself, nodding meekly instead. "Yes, I did. It is not done. A few adjustments were needed to make it perfect."
Calantha beamed proudly, "That means the gown will be ready in no time."
"I don't get it, I thought the marriage was cancelled. It's all over the papers that the engagement was broken off. Why are you two still together?"
If Calantha hadn't been busy imagining herself in the dress, she might have not missed the bitterness in Victoria's voice. "Everything will be fine soon,"
"But it is not wise to keep seeing each other behind people's backs. People are going to talk, and that won't be nice."
"Tory, one thing you should know is this, it wasn't Duke Harold or I that cancelled the wedding, it was my late father."
Victoria's brows drew together in confusion, "Why would he do that? Last time I checked, I think he was the happiest about the match."
"Yes, he was, which makes it all confusing. His reason is still unknown to us."
"Don't you think you need to respect his last wish for you not to marry Duke Harold?"
"Wish? What wish are you talking about? For all I know, he could have done that under the influence of a few bottles of whatever can get a man high enough to do stupid things."
Victoria bit her lips, thinking of what else to say that could make Calantha see reasons with her, but nothing reasonable was coming to her mind because a part of her knew Calantha was going to counter whatever point she made. Her heart ached.
If only things would work out as planned. Calantha still believed there was a chance for her and Duke Harold to end up together. The man had agreed to wait for the dust to settle before he made another move on joining them together again just as initially planned.