Merry

Merry

  Copyright 2017 Lisa Thompson

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  Part One

  Chapter one

  “Merry, I need to speak to you,” my father called to me as I entered the room.

  I hesitantly approached his side, his tone worrying me.

  “I have arranged for you to marry Lord Gregory Fitch.  Have you heard of him?”

  He gave me no chance to answer.  He barely glanced at my mortified face before continuing quickly.

  “Lord Gregory Fitch stands as the richest man in the kingdom, and we made an agreement.  In exchange for including me in his business affairs at the harbor, he requires your hand in marriage.  You make the ideal match!”

  He kept his eyes trained on the antique goblet he turned nervously on the table.

  “But Father!” I sputtered.  “Did it never cross your mind to ask me about this?”

  “You drove off the last two men I brought If you get any older it is likely you will never find a husband. All the other girls your age have long been married, and I would be a fool to pass up this opportunity.  Surely you do not think I will live forever to support you!”

  “No, but Joseph would take care of me!”  I referred to my brother, my father’s heir.

  “Merry, my telling you serves merely as a necessary formality.  My decision is made.”  He stood.  “Lord Fitch arrives in a little while for the evening meal, and I expect you to greet him kindly and make him welcome.  I want you to wear your green dress, the one that belonged to your mother.”

  I bowed my head in obedience, but clenched my fists angrily as I hurried from the room.

  I trudged upstairs to my chamber to find the dress my father had specified.  I worked hard to keep from hurling things around the room.  Could he not have given me a little more warning?  ‘Oh, by the way, you are getting married and you meet the man tonight!’  I slumped against the wall told myself to wait to pass judgment; I might end up liking Lord Fitch.  Unfortunately, I failed to convince myself.  I had not had very good experiences with suitors.  One of the men that Father had arranged for me to meet was around fifty and missing most of his teeth.  At fifteen it did not matter to me that he was rich, I just wanted somebody closer to my age and a little more attractive--preferably with all teeth intact. The other suitor, though young, was a gambler and belched at the table.  I had managed to run them off but with this Lord Fitch I did not even have a chance.  Father had seen to that.

  I donned the dress Father told me to wear.  Once upon a better time it belonged to my mother, and after her death one of our only two remaining servants, Ada, tailored it to fit me.  I looked at myself in the mirror after Ada finished lacing up the back, and she folded her hands with a smile.

  “You always have been the most beautiful thing in the kingdom,” Ada said fondly.

  As former handmaiden to my mother, Ada, in her old age, often imagined that Mother lived again in my place.  Though I tried, I saw not a trace of my mother in me.  I observed only a scrawny girl with watery eyes and freckles, whereas my mother once stood tall and graceful with porcelain skin.  Or, at least Father and Joseph described her that way; the painting in the dining parlor agreed with their account.  Red hair, unfortunately, seemed the only trait Mother and I shared.

  I turned around and gave Ada a hug.  She would be crushed when I left.

  …

  I headed downstairs to greet Lord Fitch with my father and Joseph.  Lord Fitch was a tall, good-looking man, but sported a cruel smile.  He wore his black hair slicked into a ponytail, and his beard braided tightly.  His white teeth shone blindingly against his brown skin, and his clothes were fine and looked to be tailored specially for him.  Gaudy rings sparkled on his fingers.  Something told me that I would feel extremely out of place in his household.  Suddenly, I wondered why such a rich man wanted to marry me, a simple girl whose father could barely manage his estate.  I had no time to consider this, for he spoke.

  “Mr. Blame,” Lord Fitch addressed my father, “It is a pleasure to meet you again.”  He turned to me, bowed prettily, and kissed my hand.  “Merry, I am pleased to meet you after all your father has told me of you,” he said, his voice slick.

  “Thank you.  I only hope I may live up to his boastings,” I said politely.

  I glanced at Father, and he nodded his approval.  I inclined my head toward Lord Fitch and gave him a half-hearted smile.  Ada escorted us to the dining parlor.  Father and Lord Fitch talked on the subject of business for a while.  I could tell by glancing at Joseph that he held not a very high opinion of the lord.  After the first course lay served on the table, Lord Fitch brought up the topic of our impending marriage.

  “I trust your father told you about the terms of our agreement?” he inquired.

  “Yes, my lord,” I answered him with my eyes on my plate, wanting to distract myself. So much food rarely made an appearance in our household.  My father worked very hard to give Lord Fitch a good impression of us.

  “We failed to discuss the date of the wedding,” Father said.  “We need to—” Lord Fitch interrupted him.

  “Business keeps me away more than I desire, and unfortunately, I leave for some rather pressing business in two weeks.  This sort of thing takes around a month to clear up, but after that, the lass should be ready and we will marry within a few days of my return.”  He looked haughtily at my attire.  “I insist on providing clothing for the wedding, and for her life with me.”

  I looked down, anger surging within me.  Father kicked my leg under the table to prompt my speech.

  “Your kindness overwhelms me, Lord Fitch,” I said quietly, and with a hint of sarcasm. Regardless, Father agreed heartily with me.

  Lord Fitch nodded with a smile that sent shivers down my spine.  He and Father continued to talk, and I focused on my food, determined to make the most of this feast.  Lord Fitch soon commented on my silence.

  “The lass does well to hold her tongue.  When you informed me of her age, I was concerned about her behavior.

  He looked at me, a pleased look in his eyes.  I kept my head down, though I ached to show him the opposite of the submissive behavior I knew he desired.

  “However, she lacks much in beauty.  I must say she is one of the most unbecoming young ladies I have ever seen,” Lord Fitch added matter-of-factly.

  “Her mother was beautiful,” Father hastened to say as he gestured toward the painting on the wall.  “Her portrait there accurately portrays her beauty.  I guarantee the lass will grow up to look just like her.”

  I bit my lip to keep from smiling at Father’s attempt to impress a man whose mind was already made.  I made eye contact with Joseph, and I knew he had the same idea.

  Father hurried to change the subject.  Lord Fitch intimidated him, and from the level of disgust I detected from Lord Fitch, my betrothed would not encourage family visits after we were married.

  After dinner, Lord Fitch joined me in the parlor with a book in his hand.  I looked up from my drawing as he sat in the armchair by the fire.

  “I thought I might read to you,” he said.  “We can get to know each other.”

  He left little room for me to argue, so I settled in to listen.  The story he had chosen was a popular play.  I supposed he read well enough, but did his voice never tire?  I certainly tired of listening to him.  He paused after a while
and looked up at me.

   “What do you think of the story thus far?” he asked.

  I looked up.  “Oh, it—” I caught myself before I said something critical of it.  “I find it very interesting,” I lied.

  As not often exposed to ‘fine literature,’ I found that the stories told by the sailors in town held much more appeal than this dry, boring piece of work.

  “I find the story lacking in poetic grace,” Lord Fitch said.  “The characters kill, and that is the end of the matter.  The rich, those with the means, should find other ways in which to dispose of those whom they wish to kill.  If the rich but spare them, the wrongdoers could prove useful to their cause.”

  “You disapprove of killing, even for criminals?” I asked, curious, but at the same time appalled.

  “Oh, I find it acceptable to dispose of criminals of the state in that way—but for the enemies of an individual? One gains so much more gratification by dragging out another’s death and pain.  Of course, if the offender becomes useless to the individual, or it turns out to be dangerous for the individual to utilize the offender, then I find it tolerable to dispose of the offender.  In this story, however, the author failed to take these scenarios into account.”

  I stared at him, for in that moment I saw more than the proud, shallow man I knew him to be from the moment I met him.  I saw something lurking beneath his cold exterior—something terrifying.

  Lord Fitch sat with me every day until he left for his business trip.  I wanted nothing to do with him, but to follow my wishes required directly disobeying my father’s.  Lord Fitch seemed unlikely to release me from my role in his agreement with Father.  Even if he consented, Father would disown me, leaving me with no place to call home.

  Two weeks passed with Lord Fitch at my side, and then came the month of his absence.  The finest tailors in the country were dispatched to make my wedding gown and clothes for my new life in wealth.When Lord Fitch returned from his business trip, he came bearing gifts and an overly warm welcome.  The day after his arrival, he conveyed my family and me to his mansion to prepare for the wedding.  As the servants took our things, I noticed that none of them spoke or smiled.  They seemed like ghosts.

  …

  I explored the house, thinking that since it as good as belonged to me, I ought to know my way around.  I started near the top floor and made my way to the bottom.  Nobody bothered me.  When I came to the bottom floor I found an open door.  As most of the other doors were locked, I felt compelled to see what lay behind this rarity.  I ventured down a walkway bordered by tall bushes, curious where the path led.  I heard the cawing of birds, and looked up to see vultures.  I guessed that an animal lay dead nearby, but when I rounded a corner I stopped, unable to move at the gruesome sight that lay before me.  The courtyard must have been stone, but it was stained brown with dried blood.  Standing in the courtyard was every manner of torture device I had ever heard of.  The vultures picked at the flesh of the dead prisoners in human-sized around the edges of the yard.  I stood, staring for a moment before my stomach began to heave.  I stumbled away from this undeniable proof of Lord Fitch’s cruelty.

  …

  The stormy sky stretched all around and the aisle seemed to merge with the choppy waters of the ocean and go on for infinity.  The dress felt stifling despite the stark wind blowing, and Father held my arm tightly, as though he feared the possibility of my running away.  I knew not what expression I wore, though I knew that my face usually reflected what I was feeling.  My fear probably stood on display for all to see.

  We arrived at the altar where Lord Fitch stood in all his wedding glory.  He sneered at me.

  “We gather here on this day for the union of Lord Gregory Fitch and Miss Merry Blame in holy matrimony,” the priest said.  “Do you take this woman to live as your wife?” he asked Lord Fitch.

  “Yes,” Lord Fitch answered.

  The wind became stronger.  The ocean smashed the wall that held the waters back, spraying us with freezing droplets.  Lightning flashed.

  “Merry,” Lord Fitch hissed.

  “Hm?” I asked.

  “Do you take this man to live as your husband?” the priest repeated.

  I hesitated.  Lord Fitch looked pointedly to the back of the empty crowd of chairs.  Joseph and my father, bound and gagged, struggled against guards who held swords at their throats.  My heart began hammering in my chest.

  “Say it,” Lord Fitch whispered.

  “I—I—”

  “Say it,” his voice rose menacingly.

  I caught the gleam of a dagger in his hand.

  “N—“ I gasped.  I looked down.  The hilt of his knife protruded from my stomach.  Blood spilled out, staining the white bodice red.  I felt a cold, sharp, breezy pain, and a sudden weakness.  I looked up to see his face, but it was not longer his.  He bore the face of a demon.

  I woke up.

  I remained in my chambers for the of the day, hoping to avoid Lord Fitch.  The wedding was scheduled to take place the next morning, and I needed this time to collect my thoughts.  My plan to avoid my betrothed worked until late that evening. The tailors were placing the final touches on the wedding gown as Lord Fitch entered the room to see me.  He dismissed them, and turned his attention to unfortunate me.  “I thought we might finish the play,” he said, sitting down in front of the fire with the book he had begun reading on the night we met.  I listened to him read the end of the story, recounting how the villain committed terrible crimes and came out on top, in the end.  I wished somebody else accompanied us in the room, because the more he read about the villain, the more I imagined he revealed secrets about himself.