Norman Huff paced back and forth, his steps muffled by the plush red and golden rug that was trimmed with bear fur. The smell of leather bound books and burning cedar logs hung in the air mingling with the aroma of peppermint tea that a servant had just brought in for Lord Norman and his wife, Lady Scarlet.
Scarlet raised the steaming mug to her painted red lips and sipped the scalding hot liquid slowly.
"Serena wants no part in this." Norman said as he continued to pace the floor of the grand Library.
"It does not matter what she wants dearest." Scarlet replied.
Norman stopped and turned to face his wife.
"I only want to see her happy. 'Tis all I have ever desired for her." he said solemnly. He took the extra mug from the silver tray and raised it to his nose, he closed his eyes and breathed in the sweet aroma.
Scarlet smirked and shrugged her small shoulders.
"You spoil her Norman. The girl needs some discipline." Norman took a seat beside his wife in the over sized settee then immediately stood up as if prodded by a hot iron.
"Serena is my life, Scarlet. She is all that I have left. She reminds me so much of...." his voice trailed off as he sipped his tea.
"Of who, Norman?" Scarlet sat up straight and squared her shoulders. "That wench, Seren?"
Norman stared into the blazing fireplace. "She was not a wench." he said calmly. "And yes, she does. Seren was the only woman I ever loved Scarlet."
Scarlet looked away as if she had been slapped in the face.
"And I suppose that you have no love for me in that over sized heart of yours?" she asked coldly.
"I married you because you begged me to, Scarlet. I was poor, penniless, and needed the money. You said yourself that love did not matter." He did not move his focus from the flames that devoured the sweet smelling logs.
"After all these years, have you not developed any feelings for me, Norman?" she asked a little too vulnerably.
"No." Norman then turned and sped from the room, slamming the door behind him.
Stunned, Scarlet sat unmoving. A single tear slid down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away and looked around nervously as if she was being watched. A sudden surge of anger overwhelmed her and shook her body. In a single motion, she stood and hurled the half empty mug against the stone wall, shattering it into a hundred pieces. A whirlwind of emotions coursed through her. She was not sure whether she was angry or heart broken.
When she had married Norman exactly seventeen years ago, he was a mere peasant, widowed with a two month old baby to take care of. He had no money, no job, and nothing but a one room cottage to live in. He had no idea how to raise a baby and no means to nourish her. He needed a guardian angel and Scarlet had been his heroine.
Scarlet's father had disapproved of the marriage to a penniless widow but Scarlet did not care. She was an unmarried, barren thirty year old woman and able to make her own decisions. She married Norman on a hot and humid June Sunday morning in the town Cathedral. Within a day, all of Norman's belongings had been moved into Lady Scarlet's mansion. A wet nurse was brought in to see to the wee little Serena.
Scarlet secretly loved Norman, she knew he was still grieving the loss of his beloved wife, Seren. The death was still fresh in his mind and heart. She could never lay such a burden on him that she desired his love in return. So she simply told him that this marriage arrangement was only a means to help Norman and secure a future for him and his daughter.
Norman did not sleep with his new wife for five years. Yet Scarlet was ever attentive and devoted her time to please her husband. She never complained and never resented his abstinence. When Norman finally consummated the marriage, Scarlet could feel the emptiness still. Her beloved husband and not healed completely from his first marriage. Still, she loved him and when he did choose to bed with her, she loved him as hard as she could, hoping to make him fall in love with her. Yet each time, the experience was as empty as the first.
Scarlet walked towards the large bay window that overlooked the courtyard and frozen gardens below. She placed her cheek against the icy window pane hoping the chill would calm her nerves and sooth her boiling blood. She looked below to the snow covered shrubs and bushes. Come Spring, the gardens would come alive, blooming with all sorts of exotic flowers and plants. For now though, it was simply a dead, barren wasteland.
Kind of how I feel.... Scarlet thought to herself. Seventeen years of loving a man who did not love her in return had made her a barren and bitter old woman. She had gave her life, heart, and soul to this man. And what did she get in return? Only more heartbreak.
She had raised Serena as her own daughter, treated her as if she had been born from her very womb. She thought that surely Norman would have taken notice and saw her as a better mother than the one that had died and left her husband a widow. Still, Norman only thought of Seren. He made constant remarks of how beautiful she was and how much Serena looks like her mother. Heat flowed through Scarlet's veins at that thought. Why, Serena was the most beautiful seventeen year old maiden she had ever seen. Scarlet had always been the epitome of beauty with her long golden hair as soft as silk. Her waist was slender and her hips well rounded and inviting. Her breasts were full and plump and still maintained their round shape. Still her beauty could not even be compared to that of Serena's.
Angrily, Scarlet slapped the window with her palm. She hated Serena now. As a child, Serena was harmless. Scarlet had even enjoyed playing mother to her but now that she was a blossoming young woman who possessed unparalleled beauty, Scarlet despised her for it. Serena was not her daughter and she no longer desired to be called her mother.
However, Serena had no inkling that Scarlet was her adopted mother. She was only an infant when her real mother had died. She grew up under the care of Lady Scarlet. No one had ever told her the truth that her mother, Seren had died of a fierce plague and the only way to survive, her father Norman married a rich heiress.
Scarlet turned from the window and made her way towards the door. She had to think of a plan. She had no desire to see her step-daughter married off to a rich Duke or Lord. She did not want to sit back and watch her husband's beautiful daughter live the life of luxury and sweet success.
Her father had been right. She should have never married that God-forsaken penniless peasant of a man. But who was to stand in the way of a woman on a mission in the name of love.
Stupid love! Scarlet thought as she rushed from the room, her skirts swishing about her.
Scarlet raised the steaming mug to her painted red lips and sipped the scalding hot liquid slowly.
"Serena wants no part in this." Norman said as he continued to pace the floor of the grand Library.
"It does not matter what she wants dearest." Scarlet replied.
Norman stopped and turned to face his wife.
"I only want to see her happy. 'Tis all I have ever desired for her." he said solemnly. He took the extra mug from the silver tray and raised it to his nose, he closed his eyes and breathed in the sweet aroma.
Scarlet smirked and shrugged her small shoulders.
"You spoil her Norman. The girl needs some discipline." Norman took a seat beside his wife in the over sized settee then immediately stood up as if prodded by a hot iron.
"Serena is my life, Scarlet. She is all that I have left. She reminds me so much of...." his voice trailed off as he sipped his tea.
"Of who, Norman?" Scarlet sat up straight and squared her shoulders. "That wench, Seren?"
Norman stared into the blazing fireplace. "She was not a wench." he said calmly. "And yes, she does. Seren was the only woman I ever loved Scarlet."
Scarlet looked away as if she had been slapped in the face.
"And I suppose that you have no love for me in that over sized heart of yours?" she asked coldly.
"I married you because you begged me to, Scarlet. I was poor, penniless, and needed the money. You said yourself that love did not matter." He did not move his focus from the flames that devoured the sweet smelling logs.
"After all these years, have you not developed any feelings for me, Norman?" she asked a little too vulnerably.
"No." Norman then turned and sped from the room, slamming the door behind him.
Stunned, Scarlet sat unmoving. A single tear slid down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away and looked around nervously as if she was being watched. A sudden surge of anger overwhelmed her and shook her body. In a single motion, she stood and hurled the half empty mug against the stone wall, shattering it into a hundred pieces. A whirlwind of emotions coursed through her. She was not sure whether she was angry or heart broken.
When she had married Norman exactly seventeen years ago, he was a mere peasant, widowed with a two month old baby to take care of. He had no money, no job, and nothing but a one room cottage to live in. He had no idea how to raise a baby and no means to nourish her. He needed a guardian angel and Scarlet had been his heroine.
Scarlet's father had disapproved of the marriage to a penniless widow but Scarlet did not care. She was an unmarried, barren thirty year old woman and able to make her own decisions. She married Norman on a hot and humid June Sunday morning in the town Cathedral. Within a day, all of Norman's belongings had been moved into Lady Scarlet's mansion. A wet nurse was brought in to see to the wee little Serena.
Scarlet secretly loved Norman, she knew he was still grieving the loss of his beloved wife, Seren. The death was still fresh in his mind and heart. She could never lay such a burden on him that she desired his love in return. So she simply told him that this marriage arrangement was only a means to help Norman and secure a future for him and his daughter.
Norman did not sleep with his new wife for five years. Yet Scarlet was ever attentive and devoted her time to please her husband. She never complained and never resented his abstinence. When Norman finally consummated the marriage, Scarlet could feel the emptiness still. Her beloved husband and not healed completely from his first marriage. Still, she loved him and when he did choose to bed with her, she loved him as hard as she could, hoping to make him fall in love with her. Yet each time, the experience was as empty as the first.
Scarlet walked towards the large bay window that overlooked the courtyard and frozen gardens below. She placed her cheek against the icy window pane hoping the chill would calm her nerves and sooth her boiling blood. She looked below to the snow covered shrubs and bushes. Come Spring, the gardens would come alive, blooming with all sorts of exotic flowers and plants. For now though, it was simply a dead, barren wasteland.
Kind of how I feel.... Scarlet thought to herself. Seventeen years of loving a man who did not love her in return had made her a barren and bitter old woman. She had gave her life, heart, and soul to this man. And what did she get in return? Only more heartbreak.
She had raised Serena as her own daughter, treated her as if she had been born from her very womb. She thought that surely Norman would have taken notice and saw her as a better mother than the one that had died and left her husband a widow. Still, Norman only thought of Seren. He made constant remarks of how beautiful she was and how much Serena looks like her mother. Heat flowed through Scarlet's veins at that thought. Why, Serena was the most beautiful seventeen year old maiden she had ever seen. Scarlet had always been the epitome of beauty with her long golden hair as soft as silk. Her waist was slender and her hips well rounded and inviting. Her breasts were full and plump and still maintained their round shape. Still her beauty could not even be compared to that of Serena's.
Angrily, Scarlet slapped the window with her palm. She hated Serena now. As a child, Serena was harmless. Scarlet had even enjoyed playing mother to her but now that she was a blossoming young woman who possessed unparalleled beauty, Scarlet despised her for it. Serena was not her daughter and she no longer desired to be called her mother.
However, Serena had no inkling that Scarlet was her adopted mother. She was only an infant when her real mother had died. She grew up under the care of Lady Scarlet. No one had ever told her the truth that her mother, Seren had died of a fierce plague and the only way to survive, her father Norman married a rich heiress.
Scarlet turned from the window and made her way towards the door. She had to think of a plan. She had no desire to see her step-daughter married off to a rich Duke or Lord. She did not want to sit back and watch her husband's beautiful daughter live the life of luxury and sweet success.
Her father had been right. She should have never married that God-forsaken penniless peasant of a man. But who was to stand in the way of a woman on a mission in the name of love.
Stupid love! Scarlet thought as she rushed from the room, her skirts swishing about her.