I leaned against the lounge with my legs kicked up. Mama stared for a moment, and then shook her head. Perhaps I wasn't the best part of her life, but I was her last hope at getting her debts cleared since papa had passed away.
"Amelia, do you have to be so… so…"
"Hmm, mama? What is that?"
A small smile crept up on her face as she sat down, gently pushing a greying curl away from her face. She'd been putting together a ball for the past month. It'd taken time to organise, but she was intent on getting everyone together as quickly as possible. My baby brother was away on the other side of the country, and although she didn't want to have an empty home, she needed me gone, too. Mama was too old to still be running around after her grown children, and since papa… well, since he was no longer with us, she wanted to retire. To enjoy the remaining years of her life without worrying about him, about me, or her finances.
"You are aware that tonight, you'll be meeting men of great standing. Great, honorable men who will want to marry you." She pointed a bony finger at me. "And you need to be on your best behaviour."
I rolled my eyes. Mama was never strict with me, not like she was with my brother. She knew that I'd have to deal with the same lot that she had to, once. To be taken away by a man twice my age, to fall in love, to bear his children. She'd taught me how, of course. She'd taught me everything that I needed to know about being a virtuous, good, God-faring woman. Sewing, cooking, hosting… all the things that a modern woman needed to know how to do, she taught me. But she'd also taught me other things - such as standing up for myself, counting, reading, writing… things that my friends weren't confident with. Mama wanted me to be able to carve out a life for myself. She believed that a woman wasn't bound to her husband with shackles… and she wanted me to know that I had choices.
"Are you going to wear your gorgeous white and yellow gown this evening?"
Mama leaned back and waited for my answer. Mama had spent a small fortune on a gown for me. A truly beautiful dress with golden embroidery and layers. I hated it. I bit down on my lower lip and smiled at her. "Yes, mama."
"Good. I adore the dress. It suits you."
I scoffed and put my feet on the floor. "It doesn't. Greens, purples, reds… those are my colours, mama. Gold… white… they're not."
"Amelia, you will behave and do as you're told. You are unruly and head strong, and I know that because of that, you will be fine. But you must get married."
Twenty years of age, and still no suitor. I'd been courted before, of course, but I didn't like any of them. Old men who smelled of rotting wood or moth-bitten linens weren't my idea of a good husband. Mama had listened to me time and time again whenever I'd wanted to change my mind about a man, and she'd sent them packing. But time was running out for her, and I'd already pushed my luck as far as I could. She wouldn't let me hold on to my youth any longer. If I did, no man in his right mind would want me. What man would want an aging old crone?
"I need to get some air," I said as I stood up, shaking my head. I made my way to the gardens, letting the bright sunlight wash over me. With an exhale, I opened my eyes and looked around. Mama had slimmed down the help, but our gardener remained. He stood, leaning against a tree, watching me. He was a no good, wicked layabout who slacked on his chores and got paid to do almost nothing. But by God, he was a handsome man. Thick black hair in a short crop with some grey scattered throughout, and high cheekbones that cast dark shadows across his black stubble. I'd spoken to him once or twice, and mama had told me to stay away from him… lest people get the wrong idea. There'd be no greater shame than her only daughter running off with the help.
John flashed a devious smile my way, and I began walking towards him.
"It's hot as hell out here, John, I wonder how you do it!"
He laughed and tilted his head down slightly. "My lady Amelia. You're looking radiant as ever."
My lips pursed together as I tried to hold back a small smile. "Stop. How is the garden faring?"
John crossed his arms, the tight fabric of his white shirt scrunching at his elbows and chest. His shirt was almost too tight for his strong frame, and I swore that the seams would burst open at any moment. "I'd say the new roses are good to start blooming any day now."
I looked around at the trimmed hedges. We didn't have a large garden, not by any means, but we had enough space to hide, to walk around, to enjoy the fresh country air. "That is good. It's about time the plants started blooming again," I sighed. "There were too many dead plants just a few months ago. Sad, is what is was."
John nodded. "Things die, Amelia. It isn't a sad thing, just… something that happens. And anyway, we've nursed this garden back to life."
Death wasn't something that scared me. I wasn't afraid of dying and finding peace on the other side. It was something that I'd known intimately throughout my life. People around me found themselves on the other side all too often, and I took peace in knowing that on the other side, whatever lay over there for us, was more peaceful than the world we found ourselves in whilst alive.
He placed a finger underneath my chin, and I looked up into his eyes with a smile.
"Amelia… why do you look so sad, today?"
I swatted him away and smiled. "I'm not sad. Why would you suggest such a thing?"
John leaned back against the tree and looked at the sky, watching birds fly from their nests. "Because you have that look on your face, Amelia. What's wrong?" I scoffed, and he raised an eyebrow. I'd confided in John many times. There was something about him that I felt like I could trust. He was the help, but he was someone that never spread rumours or shared my secrets. He'd found me in some states before, and helped me get back on my feet whenever things went wrong. I could trust him.
"John… mama needs me to leave. She needs me to get married, and go. I don't…"
"You don't what?" He looked back down at me with the slighest look of confusion.
"I don't want to go, John. I don't want to marry some horrible man I don't like and leave my home, leave my mama."
A sigh escaped my parted lips as I rubbed my arms and looked around. John would parrot off the same things that mama would say. He and I both knew that I was being ridiculous and that it didn't matter what I wanted.
"Did you consider that your mama might have invited some very nice gentlemen tonight? I've seen the guests invited. There's a lot of very eligible suitors who you may very well feel proud to have as a husband." He placed a finger at my chin again, pulling my gaze up to him.
"But-"
"No buts, Amelia. You'll find somebody, I'm sure of it. You're a woman who… Amelia, you're an incredible woman and any man would be glad to have you."
I bit down on my lip and pulled away from him. "You're saying that because you have to."
He ran a hand across his black hair, and sighed. "No."