The Duke's Fight For Love

CHAPTER 1

Her Arrival

Juliet's POV

The flimsy shrivel air rushed freely to my face, as I walked along, dry hay crunching underneath my feet. I pulled out the piece of paper from my pouch where I stuffed it earlier; the piece Aunt Elizabeth had scribbled down the directions to her home. The route was still a bit further, my feet ached in my shoes, the heavy bag in my hands weighed my left shoulder and my throat longed for moisture. I would do well with rest and a warm meal. I dropped the bag from my grip, if it was an animate it would have felt that the heat was like that of a blacksmith furnace. I turned backwards facing the direction of where I had come from but I saw no one, no carriage at any distance, only the bowing stems of the tall hays by the paths. Tiny brown leaves rolled across the road in the direction of the wind, a sign of a lonely and abandoned route.

I continued the walk, in the same side that I had been walking for the last hours something I learnt to do after a dreadful circumstance occurred.

**

About a decade ago, as a lass walking home from church with mother, I would choose no path. My childlike self thought to be partial to nature if I decided on getting a favourite spot on the side of the road. I still like the warm feel of the midday sun on the sands, burying my shoes that I got the itchy bits of sand on my skin. I would watch the wind bring the dust on my footprints. I loved holding my dress so I do not get dust on it. Mother always warned; yelling with no iota of modesty to the point of using cuss words when any carriage came passing by. And then, the carriage came, the one that changed my life. I did not see it behind me_ the brownish, fairly polished wagon with its rider on the black horse. The gallops and neighs or mothers words were all inaudible to my tiny ears. I fell admits being hit, I saw the running hoofs of the horse beside me before I buried my face in the hot sand. Blood and tears gushed out of me by the time mother pulled me up.

**

I stopped walking as I heard a rhythmic trot on the ground, like that of a ten pound horse galloping at full speed. It could be a carriage, or just a lonely fellow on a horse back who happened to be passing by. I wish it was.

"Hey! fellow!" I waved my kerchief towards him as I sighted the rims of his hat. The horse began to slow down and finally came to a halt just in front of me.

"Hello."

"How do you do Mister?" I always love to put an extra bit of warmth when talking to a stranger, mother said it showed how courteous one could be and could make a stranger help without having you seeming desperate.

"How do you do too? What is a lovely lady doing on this path on a sunny day?"

"I'm heading to town. From the direction on this piece, it is still a bit further, so I was wondering if you could be kind enough to take me downtown. The sun is scorching and it is melting away my thinking organ."

"It is indeed a happy sun today. Hop on lady, the carriage is nearly full, you can shove the clothes aside. I deliver fabrics in the market in town." He grinned, his face looked like he just gave a sardonic smile.

"Thank you sire, you are very kind."

We rode along to the town, it was like a high estate of patricians, king-makers, the reason Elizabeth was contented living in a cottage. A cottage was like a mansion back home. Even with the rays from the sun, the women still held their heads up while walking, looking over their shoulders with one hand clutch to a hand fan. Some ladies stood behind them adjusting their dresses to avoid them tripping over it. Mother always called this kind of women, nobles, they were women of high standards in the society either Duchess, Lady's or people from wealthy homes.

"This is Sterling estate, miss." The carriage stopped by a path.

"Thank you for the ride." I waved at the carriage still holding my smile as he rode on. The estate gate sat opposite the cottage that was in-between a lawn. The cottage looked like every other building in England, with its greyish appearance from a long washed out cement bricks, but unlike other buildings in the estate which preceded from metal gates to tall storey buildings, this was just a small fraction, like different parts of each buildings were cut out and put together to make a smaller one. Aunt Elizabeth had won the hearts of these people when she made the most pulchritudinous dress for a Lady. Now, she makes a good living as a seamstress in town. I walked past the fence_ a half wooden fence that surrounded the cottage. Clothing and sheets swung freely hanging from the clothesline.

I walked along, already feeling the wetness underneath my arm. Mother would not like to see me like this, she always warned that I lacked some bit of modesty as I might not get a good suitor like my sisters. I saw a lady walk out from the door with a basket full of fabrics.

"Aunt Elizabeth!" I called out, it was just a way I showed that I had deeply missed someone. She moved her round body in the flowing dress as she walked towards me.

"Juliet!" She dumped the basket walking towards me and wrapped her chubby arms around me in a tight hug.

"Oh Juliet, it is so lovely to see you again. You are now a full grown woman. How did your trip go?" She pulled away from me.

"Long, but worthwhile. You have been sorely missed. The splendor of this landscape was not adequately conveyed in your letter. But I am here now, thanks to the kind trader."

"Oh poor Juliet, you know I still have a bad eye. Come in, come in." The cottage engulfed me in a feeling of familiarity and warmth. The stream of the fine aroma of hot bread greased my nostrils awakening my taste buds from long hours of compulsory rest which caused my hunger. I rubbed the back of my palm in my weary eyes. The cottage had mitten designs on white kerchief hung on every corner of the wall, which made it look like the walls were made of linen if not for the big painting that mounted in the middle.

It was a picture of Mr. Colton, Aunt Elizabeth's husband. I have missed seeing his face, with his curled up moustache that always sprung up whenever he pulled it out. It had broken Aunt Elizabeth when she lost him to an influenza outbreak. She had lost a son too, Charles, her young soldier, as she always called him, who left her too soon. Now, she was just Aunt Elizabeth, the middle class seamstress with a bad eye.