The cold presence of my ivory hairbrush leaves my palm as I set the ornate handle down upon the smooth vanity. I lean against the worn wooden surface, purely out of habit, and lift my hand to hover above my head. Anxious thoughts flit through my mind, and I pinch my lips together. Not seeing my reflection does little to help my perfectionist tendencies. How I wish I knew I worked not in vain. Yet, I still glide my fingers over the simple style, adjusting stray hairs with slight nudges.
“You look immaculate tonight, love.” A familiar voice emanates from behind me. A voice that brought comfort to the darkened abyss I entered.
I lower my hands and smile at the kind words. My fiancé has always reassured me, even when I do not recognize my actions. Gently moving my stool back, I stand and face his voice. As I shuffle forward, my dress brushes against the floor. I tilt my head and raise my hands to sign, “You truly think so?”
Light footsteps move closer, and I feel his warm hand pick up my own. “But of course, my beautiful Vera. The blue dress you wear flatters your golden hair, even though you look stunning in every attire. Each strand on your head looks elegant but natural. Your smile lights up the depths of my soul,” He crosses our fingers together and leans down to my ear before saying, “If anyone thinks otherwise, that individual has less taste than the swine of the farm.”
My cheeks warm with blood, and I hold my hands into Robin’s sight, signing, “You are too kind.” He pulls me into a hug, and I relish the feeling of his warm arms and the sound of his steady breathing. We stand in a calm embrace for a few moments longer before I tap his arm. “Should we not leave soon if we are to make it to your friend’s manor before sundown?”
I hear Robin sigh and feel him step away. My heart yearns for him to envelop me with his warmth again while my mind swirls, anticipating the night ahead. A desire to stay and enjoy the calm night or to meet the friends my finance speaks of in few details, except for their mutual business interests. Yet, a promise is a promise. And Robin and I have promised to live life together. Such a promise formed out of young love and reinforced by trials and affiliations.
He says, “I do believe you are right, my love.”
The door squeaks as Robin opens it. Following muscle memory from hours of trial-and-error, I move swiftly toward the hallway while avoiding the furniture throughout my bedroom. After I reach Robin, I extend my hand, and he grasps it firmly. We enter the foyer and exit our house into the sun’s warm light. A soft breeze brushes against my cheek, and I smile as we approach our modest carriage. Robin helps me onto the bench and moves to prepare the horses. He returns quickly, and I pass him the worn leather reigns. The material leaves my palm, and Robin presses a soft kiss to my hand before the sound of the straps cracking through the air starts our journey.
The clomp of hooves against the dirt road and the creaky wheels echo in the brisk air. I love the feeling of autumn with the cooling weather and softly falling rain while the sun still holds the Earth in its warm embrace. Leaning onto my fiancé’s shoulder, I tap my wrist twice, signing to ask Robin for the time left in our travel.
He responds with, “Just a few more moments. It is just around this turn.”
I nod as the smooth dirt path transitions to a loud, cobbled street. I fold my dress’s fabric between my fingers and steady my breathing. This night will be nothing other than sweet memories and new connections. Our carriage stops, and I glide my hand into the pocket of my dress to take out the final piece of my wardrobe, a blindfold. Passing the silky cloth to Robin, I let him tie the material around my eyes. Then, he climbs down and helps me get off.
“Thank you for coming with me tonight, my love. Your willingness to meet my colleagues means a great amount to me. I hope you find that Mr. Douglas’ hosting skills and my other acquaintances present an excellent representation of my work.”
I sign my response, “Robin, dear, you are my eyes and I, your ears. Why would I waste such an opportunity to see your friend’s home?” After that, I link our arms together. “Introduce me to them.”
“But of course.”
With that final comment, he guides us up the steps and into the manor’s foyer. I hear my heels click against the floor; perhaps it is made of stone? Voices mingle in the distance, and Robin guides me through the unknown space. We enter a spacious room filled with soft music and pleasant smells.
“Monsieur Caleb, I would like you to meet my darling fianceé, Vera. Dear, this is Caleb Monte and his wife Elanor.”
I smile and extend my hand, saying, “It is a pleasure to meet you both. Robin wholly refuses to reveal details about his work. Naturally, I am curious. How did you all come to meet?”
“Hmmm…Caleb and I met Mister Robin about three years ago,” a light voice responds, “We run a little bookstore next to the smithy he worked at. During lunches, we would dine together for company. It was quite a travesty when Robin went off to war. When the officials collected the drafted members, Caleb had an illness and stayed home with me. I believe that sickness saved his life. Now, we spend our time printing and selling books. I am particularly proud of our philosophy and Braile collections.”
I give her a bittersweet smile and say, “It thrills me to hear that you have such happy memories with Robin. What genre of books do you sell in your Braile collection? I consider myself a literature fanatic, when I have the proper books, of course.”
Robin moves his arm to grab my hand. He says, “Yes, my little Vera has quite the knack for reading. Darling, Monsieur Caleb’s store is the place where I get your specially printed books. Though I do sometimes wonder what it is in those books that captures your attention so well.” Leaning to kiss my cheek, he continues, “Now, Miss Elanor, would you introduce my fianceé to Lady Rowena? I do believe the three of you ladies will get along splendidly.”
I ponder how I shall make it across the room without my guide. Tapping Robin’s arm to get his attention, signing, “Are you sure? I would love to meet new acquaintances, yet to leave you is unfamiliar. Should we not be together before the dinner begins?”
“It is alright, my love. Elanor is a sweet young lady who I suspect understands our situation. Is that correct, Miss?”
“Indeed, it is. Vera, I agree with your fiancé. Lady Rowena will adore you. I can guide you to her.”
I think for a moment. Seeing nothing amiss in the situation, I respond, “Very well. Robin, dearest, will we sit together at dinner?”
“I would dream of nothing else,” he says, unlocking his arm from mine. “Enjoy the night, my love.”
I hear his light footsteps walk away. Shortly after, nimble fingers rest on my arm. Elanor guides me, saying, “Rowena is just over here. Nothing is between us and her other than guests.”
The two of us walk across the large room. Pleasant aromas of dinner waft out of the kitchen, making my mouth water. I hear snippets of conversations as we walk past. Mentions of a Capulon, laughter between friends, and admiration of the manor’s beauty. What I would give to see the chandelier, table paintings, or the other decor my fellow guests speak of fondly, especially the garden.
Elanor puts gentle pressure against my arm as she smoothly stops. She says, “My friend Rowena, I want you to meet Vera. I find her delightful with her interest in books and…do you have any other hobbies?”
“I like baking, dancing, and playing music, specifically violin. But nothing compares to walks in a garden. Recently, I took up gardening, so I do not have to travel far for a relaxing spot to sit.”
A new voice answers, “That sounds lovely, Vera. I am a bit of a musician if I do say so myself, vocal performance mostly. But I could never figure out baking, it is too complicated. Forgive me if this is rude, but how on Earth do you bake without your sight?”
The suddenness of the question throws me off. “Muscle memory, I suppose. I spent so much time baking when Robin was away that it feels natural to make bread or other delicacies. Even after I lost my vision, the movements stayed,” I say.
“That is truly incredible, Vera! You have quite a skill there.” Elanor exclaims.
Rowena agrees, saying, “Perhaps you could come over and play the violin while I sing. Afterward, you could teach me to bake if you would like. Elanor, you would be welcome to come over as well.”
Smiling at the thought of a new friend, I nod. “That sounds incredible, Rowena.”
Elanor places her hand back on mine. “We were hoping you would get along with us. Robin speaks fondly of you but refuses to tell us anything beyond his admiration of your beauty and kindness.”
I open my mouth to speak when Rowena adds a thought. “That man loves you, Vera. The way he looks at you even now from across the room shows his adoration. I remember the day you both started learning sign language. Robin came to work so excited and rejuvenated; it was almost as though he had never seen war. He told us you had found an old book with basic signs in one of the little retail shops and wanted to learn the language with him. That gesture meant more to Robin than you can imagine.”
I feel a slight blush arise on my face because I had not realized he spoke of me when with others. Hearing how excited Robin was when we learned sign language warms my heart almost as much as it did when he helped me learn Braille a year ago. So much has happened since the day Robin went to war, the day he told me we would marry when he returned. He proposed the day after we reunited and intend to wed in 3 months.
“Rowena, we must introduce Vera to Marilyn!”
“My goodness! You are correct, Elanor, the two must meet.”
I tilt my head in confusion. I recognize the name but cannot recall where I heard it. Perhaps Robin had mentioned her at some point? As much as I connect to these two ladies, I do not know who this Marilyn figure is, nor what she could or can do.
“Do not worry, Vera. Miss Marilyn is a gracious host. You will find her a lovely addition to our friendship.”
“Marilyn loves reading and baking. But her reputation comes from her beautiful garden outside. I suspect she would give you a tour if you so wished.” Elanor says as she reassuringly pats my hand.
“She sounds interesting.”
The person on my right, Rowena, by the sound of it, grabs my hand and guides me across the room while Elanor follows us on my left. We move steadily, and I hear new voices grow louder. I remove my hands from my acquaintances’ grasp and slightly lean against the table we stand in front of.
A woman speaks, “Hello, I do not recognize your face nor do I think you recognize my voice. My name is Marilyn Capulon, and my husband and I own this manor.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Capulon. I am Vera Frazier. Thank you for having me in your home.”
“Ah, my dear, do not feel the need to address me as Mrs. Capulon. I shall think my mother-in-law is behind my shoulder. By chance are you engaged to Robin Achart?”
“Why yes, yes I am. Do you know him just as Elanor and Rowena do?”
Marilyn moves beside us and says, “If my memory serves me right, Michael and I met Robin about two years ago before he went off to the war. Michael wanted to commission a sword and your fiancé is one of the best smiths in the area. We started having lunch together with the Montes. I believe the gentlemen met up for a friendly sparring match every once in a while.”
I remember the days when Robin returned with dirty clothes and scratches. He would change and then tell me about his victories. He always had nimble and intentional movements when walking about town or completing tasks around the house; these movements played a part in his skill as a swordsman. When combining Robin’s natural skills with his talents as a smithy, I am not surprised that the army quickly claimed him as a soldier. Even though he had the skills for the job, as far as I know, killing foes goes against Robin’s morals. The war drained him in two ways: mentally from living among death, and physically from the explosion that took his hearing. It is peculiar that these people know him so well, yet Robin scarcely mentioned them or his work to me. Maybe during dinner, I can uncover what my love does when he leaves our home.
“Miss Marilyn,” a servant walks up and says, “dinner is ready, and the other guests are entering the dining room.”
“Thank you. Rowena, Elanor, Vera, and I shall join the others momentarily.”
Elanor says, “Marilyn, what have you prepared for us tonight?”
“Hmm, I will not say what we have planned precisely, but it is my favorite category, soup.” Marilyn pauses before saying, “Ladies, let us not keep the gentlemen waiting any longer. Vera, may I direct you to your seat?”
“I would appreciate that.”
Our group moves away from the table towards the delicious aroma from a neighboring room. Marilyn places her hand on my arm and guides me around the dining table to an empty chair. I hear the recognizable steps of my fiancé draw closer to us.
Robin’s voice says, “Here is your chair, my love.”
“Thank you, Robin,” I say as I sit in the designated chair. He pushes my seat closer to the table, and I rest my hands on the soft cloth surface. Robin steps to my right and sits down in his chair. I hear the figure to my left speak.
“Hello, Vera, your fiancé and I are close friends. He has told me a great deal about your musical talents and language skills. Taylor Wilkins, at your service, miss.”
“It is lovely to meet you, Monsieur Taylor. Meeting his acquaintances is always interesting. How did the two of you meet?” I ask both of the men at my side. Robin presses his arm against mine and clasps our hands together.
“Vera, my love, I met Taylor during a strategy meeting. He and Michael were leaning over a table covered in maps while drinking hot tea. When I entered, Taylor passed me a third cup without looking up. I joined them and the other advisors and listened to the group talk through the statistics of either side’s troops. I worked to train the soldiers into swordsmen.”
“Quite skilled in that field, Robin is. I do believe his swordsmanship skills only improved over the year or two when he trained the soldiers. Many would find it difficult to disarm your fiancé unless they had a distraction.”
This information surprises me; not Robin’s skill and ability, but rather the frequency it seems he participates. I ask him why he neglected to share this with me.
Robin sighs and says, “Love, I did not want to dwell on the past. Dueling for sport and killing to survive are extremely different actions. I prefer to enjoy my time with you or work in the forge, not thinking about what I did during the most challenging time of my life.” He squeezes my hand reassuringly and continues. “Anyways, you never showed interest in my duels before. I want to plan for the future, not think about the past.”
The conversations around the table fall silent, and a clear voice welcomes the guests. “I hope your night has gone smoothly thus far. My wife and I appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedules. Tonight, we dine on fresh baguettes with olive oil, a salad lightly tossed in a raspberry vinaigrette, followed by marvelous potato soup, which is Marilyn’s favorite, and a butterscotch soufflé for dessert.”
Marilyn chimes in, “As always, we will have tea, coffee, and fruit mignardises after the meal while we continue to fellowship and enjoy one another’s presence. But enough about our plans, let us eat!” With her final words, I hear doors open, and multiple figures step out. Dinner begins.
After dinner, I lean over to Robin and ask, “I was wondering, my dear, if I could go see this garden I have heard so much about from my new acquaintances. Simply sit in the moonlight and enjoy nature while you mingle with your friends.” It sounds like such a pleasant sight, but I will simply relish the cool air and fragrant scents.
“I see no reason not to, my love, as long as Marilyn does not mind you venturing through her creation.”
Turning my face to the head of the table, I repeat my question to Marilyn. She responds, “That sounds like a lovely idea, Vera. My hydrangeas and hyacinths are in full bloom, which is unusual for this time of year. The fruit trees bear harvests of sweet cherries, apples, and peaches. I will show you to my favorite bench and let you soak in the atmosphere.”
I thank her for her kindness, and we both stand and walk towards the manor’s exterior. Marilyn helps me down the stone staircase before guiding me across the courtyard to the aromatic garden. We remove our shoes and walk through the grass onto a stepping stone trail. After a moment, she steers us to the left.
Marilyn stops before removing her hand, saying, “Directly behind you is the bench. I love this spot because the orchard surrounds the perimeter, and flowerbeds line the stone wall around the clearing. A little stream runs from this spot to the front entrance to the manor. I hope you enjoy the quiet and stillness of the world at night.”
“Thank you for sharing this with me. I will not hold you from your other guests longer, so if you must go, it was a pleasure to walk with you.”
I hear her sigh and answer, “Unfortunately I cannot sit here with you for the rest of the night as I still have others to talk with. But I will find some other time to sit out here in the moonlight.” Marilyn steps away and walks back the way we entered. “Enjoy the rest of your night, Vera. You are a delight and I suspect we will get to meet again.”
I rest on the wooden bench and listen to the sounds of nature. A soft breeze rustles the leaves above my head, and chirps from crickets echo from the flowerbeds and grass. The fragrant scent of blossoms fills the air. I imagine the beautiful colors that decorate this spot. I think of purple hyacinths, classic red roses, a sunset of tulips, blue and white hydrangeas, deceptive pink snapdragons, and bright red apples and cherries nestling between leaves. Perhaps moths flit from flower to flower. Sitting in the calm of night brings a pleasant end to a lovely dinner.
After about forty-five minutes of sitting in the moonlight, I hear Robin walk across the stepping stones into the clearing. He grabs my hands and pulls me to my feet. I sputter at the sudden movement and sign, “Gracious, Robin! You startled me.”
He chuckles. “Well, what were you expecting? I cannot let a lady who is as beautiful as you sit alone. And you have always liked dancing, so I thought we could live in the moment.”
With that, he slowly moves, and I follow. My dress twirls as we spin around the clearing, our feet gliding to familiar steps. As we waltz, I reflect on the night and the people I met: Monsieur Caleb and his wife Elanor, a sweet couple whom I expect to spend more time with; Lady Rowena, a kind and passionate woman with a knack for politics and similar hobbies to mine; Monsieur Taylor, a charming young man who seems close with Robin, and our hosts, Michael and Marilyn, who appear generous and wise. Robin spins me into his arms, and we stand together under the moonlight.
“Love, how did you like our little trip?”
I smile up at him, “I found it splendid and enjoyable. Your friends are so sweet and friendly. Later, I would love to connect with them more because they seem like good people.”
Robin’s arms hug me. “That sounds like an excellent plan, darling. I will set up a gathering between you and the other ladies.” He spins me out on his left hand before stepping closer. He kisses my hand and continues, “We should leave soon so we get back home before midnight, my love.”
“Sounds good.”
We link arms and walk back through the garden. I stoop and put my shoes on before following Robin around the manor. He helps me into the carriage and climbs up after me. The cool night air keeps me awake while the carriage starts moving, and I lean against my fiancé and relax in my seat. I hold my hands out and sign to Robin, “I like Marilyn’s garden; do you think I can make my garden similar?”
“Of course, love, not the same, but similar. She has a broken little well that I doubt we can replicate, but any flowers you desire, I will find for you.”
I gasp. “Thank you, Robin! I cannot wait to add more to my garden.”
“Would you like to start with snapdragons?” He says with a smile.
Written By: Marian Markley
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