The Corner Room: Part 1

Chapter 1
          It started out to be a typical party. I was in the corner sitting behind the rather tall fern, as usual. I had my orders; I was told to stay there and not move from my seat unless there was an emergency, which there never was. I was to spurn all friendly advances upon myself, if there were a fool imbecilic enough to want me. If a handsome, wealthy gentleman took pity on me I was to list my faults about why I was an unsuitable dance partner or conversationalist and then point several more suitable ladies out to him. It was a frequent routine.
          My Mother was a socialite and loved having people over to dance in the grand ballroom and gaze upon her beautiful children. She had four beautiful children and then I came bawling into this world. I am the ugly fifth child of a beautiful family. My parents and my siblings are all fair skinned with light blonde hair and blue eyes. They are also relatively short when compared to myself. I am taller than any family members except those by marriage. Of course you can imagine that there are other differences. I have straight midnight black hair that I like to keep shorter than fashion allows. I just didn’t want to deal with the long hair and the curls that were in style. Anyway, I thought that shoulder length hair suited me. There was talk about my not being my father’s child. I really didn’t care either way. I was happy with being on the fringes of my family. I had a lot of time alone.
          Well, as I said earlier this was a typical party. I was in the corner in my only party dress, this hideous gray thing that used to belong to an aunt, when another, I thought, pretty man headed in my direction. I braced myself for this next humiliating encounter. After all these years they should have learned to stay away, but they hadn’t. It was so frustrating. I watched him walk around the small tables and chairs set about the dance floor for the courtesy of tired guests. He was almost half way around the room when I realized that I had never seen this man. He looked exotic and moved with the grace of one of those black panthers I read about in books. He even had a feral face; it had the predatory look of a wild beast. He neither looked nor moved like any man I have ever seen in Milton County. My palms began to sweat and it was hard to catch my breath. I’m not sure if it was from fear or anticipation.
          I was peaking around the side of the plant, when we first made eye contact. My mouth was suddenly dry and I licked my lips. As I did this, a small smile appeared upon his face and his eyes gleamed. He was getting closer; should I stay here and treat this stranger like I treat all of my pretty suitors or make a run for the door, in an elegant not running sort of way? I checked my escape route and when I turned back to look at the man I found him right in front of me.
          He was even more handsome up close. His deep brown eyes looked at me curiously and his full lips tilted at the corners with a smile. To me he was the most handsome man I had ever seen.
          “I beg your pardon, miss, I know we haven’t been properly introduced, but I have been wanting to meet you since I walked through the door and saw you sitting here.” Oh, please not another one, but even as I thought this I knew he wasn't one of my typical suitors. His steady gaze locked onto mine and I couldn't look away from the cool midnight blue. I wanted to run. I was frightened. I didn't know this man yet I felt closer to him than anyone I know. “I have just come up from Mattington this week to take care of my father’s estate.”
          “Your father’s estate? Then am I correct in assuming that you are Mr. Wilson’s son?” At his nod, I relaxed and decided speaking to this man might not be so terrible; it might even get me in to look around that large gothic façade manor house that I heard was in the country and was their family estate.
          “I am his only son, James Albert Wilson. May I ask your name?”
          “I am Sarah Christine.” I offered him my hand for the typical and limp handshake men usually bestow upon me. Instead of shaking the offered hand he turned it over and gave the back a feather light brush with his lips “It’s a pleasure miss”
          I suddenly felt like someone was staring at me from behind. I turned my head to the left and saw my mother and father bearing down on us in great haste. I quickly pulled my hand back and folded them in my lap I waited for my punishment. It looked like this conversation was over.
          I must have been too polite with the new bachelor in town. At least I hoped he was a bachelor. When my parents reached us, my mother with her comfortable hostess demeanor excused me from my companion by telling him that she needed a word with me in private. As she steered me toward the door, I looked behind me and saw my father leading the young Mr. Wilson over to my beautiful, blonde and boring cousin Cecilia. So much for any interest he had in me.
          Once away from the crowd restricted to the public areas of the house and well into the private quarters used by family, my mother started her tirade. “What were you thinking? No, I don’t want to hear it you silly little girl. I can’t take my eyes off you for even one minute before you start flirting with my guests. Making me and your father look like we raise loose women. What am I going to do with you girl? Why can’t you ever listen? You act so high and mighty in this house, like you own it. You need to learn your place. Well, I cannot decide what to do about you now; there are too many people about and I have been sipping champaign. Get to your room and stay there, I don’t want to see you or hear you the rest of the night. Do you understand?”
          I replied that I did understand and walked down the long hall to the servant’s stairs and up to my small room at the back of the house. For the first time I was starting to have a good time at one of my mother’s endless parties. Mr. James Albert Wilson. I can’t believe that I thought he might actually be interested in me, the supposedly illegitimate child of Marcus Jensen. Maybe I am just a silly little girl who needs to learn her place. But why does that thought bring dread into my heart.
          Oddly, I like my room. It's just off of the main family hall so I still feel like a small member of this large family. I also like the hidden passageway behind my wall of built-in shelves. The passage leads to a small closed off room at the top of the house. I grabbed a candle before I climbed the stairs to my refuge. Only the lower two floors had the new electricity and my room and my private room weren’t included.
          I usually hid in my secret room when I was not in the mood to see company or when I was told to go to my room. It was quiet up there. I couldn’t even hear the music four floors below me. My sanctuary was empty when I discovered it on my tenth Birthday. That was the day I was allowed to move from the nursery to a room of my parent’s choosing. This little room was the best gift anyone could have given me. I made it a home. I pulled an old, worn brown leather library chair from its attic resting spot up the four steps that separate my landing from the main part of the attic. I also brought in old shelves, an end table, a footstool and several old iron lanterns to light when I felt like reading. I brought items up there from the main floors too. I had pillows that I made with waste materials from my families endless supply of new clothing, as well as draperies for the windows, and a rag rug that I kept adding to that was almost half the size of the room.
          No one came up there that I know of, except for the housekeeper Maddie and her husband Greg. They looked out for me, making sure I was all right when my family did not seem to care. They sometimes did not see me for several days and Maddie brought me food from the kitchen when she knew I wanted time away from my family. I think my parents knew about that place but they never bothered me. I did not mind. That was my home.
          I pulled out my favorite book from off the top shelf and settled into my chair to read. It is a novel about an old castle that sits on a bluff and a Duke who terrorizes the land. The book has high adventure as a man tries to defeat the Duke during several small battles while winning the hand of the Duke's daughter. This is not a book for a proper lady; no book is proper for a woman I’d been told. I did not care, I enjoyed reading. It was my little escape from the world.
          Just as I settled into my book, there was a noise at my bedroom door. The muffled sound was coming though the walls of my hiding place. I jumped up to grab the door incase it was one of my parents. However, It was Maddie asking if everything was all right. “Everything’s fine, just my parents overreacting to my talking to someone at their grand event. There is nothing to worry about. Mother will probably forget everything by morning anyway. She usually does. You better get back to the party before you are missed. There will be trouble if you are not down there when Mother has need of you.”
          “You are right; I need to be getting back downstairs your mother will have my hide if I don’t get down there soon. I just needed to be sure that you are all right. With your mother throwing you out of the party and all.” Maddie said.
          “I am fine Maddie, everything’s just fine. Anyway, I was bored down there watching all of the peacocks preening for attention. Especially if that person has money.” I said half truthfully. After all, I was bored until I encountered that most intriguing man. The young Mr. Wilson. Did he really take an interest in me? Or, was he another would be suitor who wanted only a substantial dowry. He seemed to be genuinely interested, but what was the point of dwelling on the encounter? There wasn’t one. I would probably never see him again.
          And like many nights before I fell asleep in my chair with a book on my lap.

Chapter 2
          I was bored out of my mind at the latest party I was attending. It was just like all of the others; women making boring small talk and looking for a wealthy husband, especially one with old money. With my assets at the time, I knew that I was being hunted by several of these women. They would attach themselves to my arm and attempt to be charming at every social event I was forced to attend.
          I wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for the stipulations in my fathers will that said I had to be married to gain my inheritance. I had to be married to a woman for at least one year to gain my full inheritance. As it was, I received a moderate monthly allowance, and the privilege to live in my fathers various homes. I really didn’t need the money or the place to live. I had plenty of money already through several prosperous investments and could have afforded to rent a place in town. It was just easier to stay at my fathers’ home outside of the city since I was dealing with his affairs.
          I was at the latest party starting to get nervous that I might have to marry one of the simpering idiots, when I spotted a curious sight. There was a woman sitting in the corner behind a rather large plant. I thought that that was odd. All of the women I’d met at thee parties wanted the attention on themselves only, but this one seemed to shy away from attention. I watched her a while to see if she would ever emerge but she didn’t. By this time I had to meet her, even though it was inappropriate for me to introduce myself to her, I didn’t know any one at the party who could formally introduce me.
          It was a long walk across the ballroom. Several of the young women who were always attached to my side tried to lure me away to dance with them again, but I was on a mission; I had to meet this woman. It did not take me long before we made eye contact and she held my gaze. Most women wouldn’t ever look a man in the eye, but she did. As I approached her look became weary, like she was tired of people coming up to her, but I don't think I saw anyone by her the whole night.
          As I got closer, I could see that she wasn't a typical beauty, but there was something about her that caught my attention. Her features were striking. She sat in the corner completely composed and didn’t seem to care that she was sitting behind a plant. I think she wanted to be there. Her hair wasn’t curled and coifed like the latest fashion but worn loose; black hair falling only to her shoulders. Considering her and her face, that for some reason charmed me, I decided to use all of my powers of flattery to find out who this woman was.
          I simply began by introducing myself by telling her why I was in town and that I was handling my late father’s estate. She was correct in assuming that I was the son of the recently departed Mr. Martin Wilson. She seemed to relax a little at my nod of affirmation and introduced herself as Sarah Christine Jensen. .
She offered her hand to me for a handshake I suppose, but I decided to take it a little further and leaned down to press a light kiss to the back of her hand. I looked up just in time to see her blush
          “It’s a pleasure miss”
          She looked over her shoulder at that moment and I heard an exasperated sigh escape from her lips. Soon a matronly woman who looked like she was hanging on to youth with a thread, approached and gracefully excused herself and the young woman. I saw them depart, the older woman’s hand tightly holding the younger woman’s arm as she steered her through the crowd. Then a large balding man grabbed onto my hand with a fierce handshake. I really didn’t know where he came from, just that he was suddenly there.
          “I hope that Sarah wasn’t a bother to you?” that man said, “I’m so sorry about all of that it was just time for Sarah to leave. Oh! I apologize I am Marcus Jensen. I hope that you are enjoying yourself. Am I right to assume that you are Mr. Wilson’s son, James?
          After I replied that I was enjoying myself, and that I was indeed who he thought I was, he steered me towards a young woman who was standing near the balcony doors. “Mr. Wilson may I introduce my niece, Miss Cecilia Lorens. Cecelia, this is Mr. Wilson’s son. Maybe you can introduce him to a few people here tonight?”
          Miss Lorens gave a bright vacant smile and said, “Of course, I would be delighted.” She turned to me and stuck out her hand, I am sure for a kiss but a light handshake was all she got. She had the look in her eye. The look that said “I wish you were mine and I will do everything I can to make you mine.”
          Appearing satisfied Mr. Jensen excused himself to take care of some farewells from a small group that was leaving. Still with the vacant smile on her face the young Miss. Lorens asked, “Is there anyone in particular you would like to meet tonight?”
          Actually there was one person that I was interested in and that person had just left the room and I did not see her return. So I decided to see what information I could get from this cousin of the young Miss Jensen, “Yes, there is someone I am curious about. Maybe you could give me some information on the young woman who was sitting behind that plant earlier this evening?”
          Miss Lorens’ face darkened, though she never lost the smile, and she replied, “Why would you want to know about her? She’s nobody really. Just a frump who comes out of her wardrobe every now and then. Now if you really want to meet someone, may I recommend Mr. Barber, he’s an associate of my uncle and father. And then there is . . ..” My attention was already wondering and she had only just started to name off people that she knew.
          “Truly, I would like to know about that young woman.” I interrupted. “I met her briefly and would like to know more than her name.”
          Looking shocked that anyone would interrupt her, my guide began, “All right, if you want to know I’ll tell you, though there isn’t much to tell. Well, nobody but her mother knows who her father really is. My uncle claims her as his, though nobody really believes it. She spends most of her time alone in her room reading novels. I can’t believe that her parents let her do that. It’s rumored that she has a private room that she locks herself in for days. She’s really odd. The family only lets her go to certain functions that are put on by other family members.” She took a breath and waved her drink around. “She doesn’t like all the things that a woman should like. I mean, did you see what she was wearing? That old gray thing, it looks like something an old lady would wear. Anyway that is all I really know, we might be related but she is not the type of person that I generally associate with. She is nothing like her sisters. They are so pretty and look at them all talking to the young Mr. Canton. They are the blonde-haired ones. I can see why my aunt and uncle spend most of their time with their oldest daughters. They are the beautiful and perfect ones.”
          So, my new friend was a recluse who reads. Things were getting more interesting all the time. Since I did not feel like being paraded around by this young woman so that I could meet all of her friends I decided to excuse myself. I gave my regards to the Jensen’s before I left, as it was only the polite thing to do. I did not like how the young Miss Jensen was portrayed or treated by her family. They didn’t seem to treat their daughter very well and I didn’t feel like staying any longer than I had to. I went straight to my father’s home and looked over the library for a book to read. I found a mystery that I had liked as a child and brought it up to my room. I could not use my father’s rooms. It didn’t feel right. I sat in a chair by the window facing the back of the house and read for several hours until I nodded off to sleep sitting in the chair.

Chapter 3
          It was another dull and boring day. That was the day we would go on a family outing as my father was able to take time off work. This was one of those days. This day’s trip was to one of the local galleries. My mother wanted new, more lavish, artwork for the parlor and the second sitting room. She had a friend recommend this gallery; it belonged to her nephew, who painted all of the paintings and his wife worked on the sculptures. I always asked not to go on these little outings, but was always told I had no choice and had to go. I hated those trips.
          As soon as we walked into the gallery, I knew that this place was going to be awful. The pieces were overly large and dreadfully tacky. The works were of the typical variety still lives of fruit baskets and things of wealth. My father liked a painting with books, a small stack of money and a smoking pipe on it for his library. I couldn’t see why anyone could like those things. The lines were unclean and the colors didn’t look well together. It did not help that the air smelled of gas lamps and paint cleaner or that the room was dark. Maybe it was to hide the appalling workmanship that went into this artwork. I was walking around, looking at the art and was desperate to leave that disgusting place.
          I didn’t think that anything could make the day worse, except that it did get worse but also, oddly better. I needed a bit of fresh air and while my mother ordered her purchases and agreed on a time for delivery, I quickly stepped out of the gallery and tripped in the doorway into the arms of a man. The man was the same one who had fascinated me the week before at my mother’s party. I couldn’t believe that I tripped and he caught me. I was very embarrassed and he would not let go of my arm.
          “Miss Jensen, what a shock it is to see you again. I didn’t think I would ever be able to speak with you again. How have you been since we last met?” he softly crooned in my ear.
          I was still in shock and replied, “I have been well, Mr. Wilson, would you please let go of my arm?” When he let me go I moved back a step, right into the wall of the building. “I trust that you have been well this past week?” I stammered, trying to regain my composure. There was something about the man that made my heart flutter. I had never met anyone who made me feel as he did.
          “I have been well,” He said with a half bow. “What brings you here on a fine day like today?”
          “My mother wanted to visit this gallery for our family outing this week. Have you come to see this fine art?” I said, showing my disgust for the artists work. “You are wasting your time here if you are looking for a good piece of art”
          “Actually I am doing my aunt a favor. She wanted me to check the work here to see if it was worth her attention. You say that it is not. Well, that gives me another opinion if I do not like what is inside.” He gave me a hard look that softened into humor. “Would you care to walk with me a ways and talk? I am interested in hearing about the books that you read.”
          “The books I read? How do you know that I enjoy reading? Oh.” I realized that he had spoken to someone about me and could feel my color rise. “You must have spoken to someone. At the party? Well, I guess I’m flattered.” I stammered. He asked someone about me. About me, a nobody, even in my own family. Someone who did not even exist to some people. “May I ask who you asked? I want to make sure you got correct information.” I didn’t know why, but he kept smiling. It was getting quite maddening.
          “I believe my informant knows you fairly well as she is related to you. I inquired about you from your cousin, I can’t recall her name. She’s the one with all of those bright red curls and the dimples. She seemed to think she didn’t know a lot about you, though she had much to say and I believe most of her information was incorrect. I she thought you were rather odd. I, of course, do not believe a word of what she said.” His smile grew larger and even more charming. “For some reason you intrigue me and I want to know more about you. You are unlike any woman that I have met recently. You really are. You seem to be very smart. Would you like that walk?”
          He wanted to walk with me. What did I do to deserve a handsome man paying me attention? This was completely out of the ordinary. I could not stop thinking about him all week and there he was, wanting to walk with me and get to know me better. What was even stranger was that he didn’t seem to believe the things that my very persuasive cousin said about me.
          “I would enjoy a walk with you, however inappropriate without a chaperone. However, I cannot. My parents wouldn’t approve. Perhaps with one of my sisters a walk would be welcome, but they would not be pleased with my going for a walk with a man. Perhaps you would enjoy Charlene’s company. She is one of my sisters who is rather smart and she likes taking walks. She also enjoys reading.” I really didn’t want him to focus his attention on Charlene, but I didn’t really believe that he was serious about spending time with me. Charlene was the only sister of mine that treated me well. She had a love and respect for books and understood how I could spend more time with books than with people. She came to my room every now and them to talk about books and other things that were going on. I really hoped he would take Charlene for a walk and that I would go along as a chaperone.
          “Thank you, but I would rather walk with you. There is a little bookstore around the corner that I thought you might be interested in. It has a wide collection of books that I have found enjoyable. They have some of the best books in the city. Maybe we could ask Charlene to walk with us. Would they approve then?” He asked.
          “Maybe if they thought you were walking with Charlene and not with me. I often have to escort my sisters and their suitors around. Shall I go ask my father?” I said, hoping that he would say yes, when I heard from next to me my father’s voice.
          “Ask me what?” Then looking closely at who I had been talking to he started, “Mr. Wilson, what a pleasure it is to see you again. I hope my daughter hasn’t been a bother to you. I was just looking around in the gallery and notices she wasn't there. I am so glad I found her.” Said my father laying on all of his charm.
          “Father,” I said, “Mr. Wilson has asked me for a walk. There is a bookstore around the corner that he thinks I might enjoy. May I walk with him? Charlene would be welcome to come along.” I wanted to walk with him and would do what I could to get that chance. I wanted to see my father try to turn down this man’s request.
          My father, looking a bit startled looked at Mr. Wilson “Sir, is that true? You would walk with my daughter to a bookstore?” At Mr. Wilson’s nod he continued a bit flustered, “I have never heard of such a thing. A man wanting to take a young woman to look at books. I am unsure as to how to respond. You would also have my other daughter along on this trip, to act as a chaperone. I think that as long as Charlene comes with that it is all right to walk with my daughter. However, Charlene must agree. Give me a moment.”
          I didn’t know what to think, my father just gave me permission to walk with the tall and handsome man who had taken an interest in me. A few moments later Charlene walked out the door and asked, “So, where are we going?” I could have hugged her right then. I was thrilled that she agreed to come along. I knew that once my father regained his composure he would wish that Mr. Wilson’s attention would turn toward Charlene. I hoped it would not.
          We walked companionably toward the bookstore. Mr. Wilson asked appropriate questions the whole way. He asked about how Charlene was doing. Asked Charlene if she enjoyed reading as much as I did. He was even bold enough to ask which of us was older, to which we just laughed but did not say. I felt very comfortable. It felt strange.
         “You both like to read about the same amount but do you read the same things?” He asked.
          “We read some of the same books, but I like romances more than she does and she likes mysteries and some of the more scary stories that are out there. She also reads some books that are above my understanding.” Charlene replied.
          The bookstore was close by and we reached in a few minutes. It was a small building tucked away between a tailors shop and a bakery. I thought that that was an odd combination of stores to be together. The bell above the door rang as we entered, ladies first, of course. The shop owner came out of the back room shortly thereafter. The man was very handsome with short blonde hair and clear green eyes. “Well if it isn’t James. I have not seen you in here in quite a while, and with two lovely ladies. You are a lucky man. What can I help you with today?” The shopkeeper said.
         “I just thought I would stop in since I was in the neighborhood. Ladies this is Mr. Ingle, I hope you still have the large collection of mysteries and romances that you had last time I was in here. Those are the women’s preferences. And you know I enjoy a good mystery.”
          “Well yes I have the same types of book in stock and they are in the same corner as they were last time you were in here. The romances are in a different corner. Which if these young ladies enjoys a good romance?” At Charlene’s reply of “that would be myself.” Mr. Ingle smiled and said that he would show her the proper place if that is what she wanted to see. Charlene followed the shopkeeper and I followed Mr. Wilson to the corner where the selection of mystery novels was located. “I wouldn’t take you for a man of mystery, Sir. I would have thought you would enjoy pursuits that are more intellectual; Histories and philosophies. Not such a past time as reading frivolous mystery novels.”
         He turned to look at me and smiled. “That is what I like to let people think. I do occasionally like a treatise on philosophy or a history that is interesting to me. However, I do enjoy a good mystery. Feel free to look around and let me know if you find anything of interest.” With that, he turned to peruse the shelves but he stopped and said to me. “I would prefer it if you would call me James, it is what I prefer friends to call me.” When his back was towards me, I think my color must have risen to a bright red. I felt flushed. I didn’t know what to think. Was he just being polite by calling me a friend or did he actually think of me as a friend? I tried to look at the titles on the shelves but couldn’t think in that tight corner with the man who had been on my thoughts so close to me. The titles were a blur for a few minutes, until I spotted a book that I had looked for in several other places. I think I made a noise because Mr. Wilson or James as I suppose he preferred turned to me an asked is everything was all right. Of course it was. I couldn’t hide my excitement at finding this particular book. “I can’t believe it, Mr. Wilson,” and at his look, amended though I was unsure of myself, “uh, James. I have been looking for this book for several months. I gave up that I would ever find it. Nevertheless, here it is. I am so pleased that I must have this book.” At that time Charlene, walked around the corner with a book in her hands.
          “I think that we should leave pretty soon. I don’t want mother and father to have to wait for us. Did you find anything?” She asked.
          “Yes, I found something, did you find anything Mr. Wilson?” I would not use his familiar name in front of anyone else. I was inappropriate. When he held up a book, I finished, “then we should pay and be on our way.”
          At the counter, Charlene went to pay for her book, but Mr. Wilson stopped her and insisted that he pay for both of our books since we had been kind enough to accompany him on his walk. Of course, we would not have it. We both told him that we have our own money and didn’t need anyone to pay for our things. Thank you for the offer. He looked stunned, and so did Mr. Ingle. “I have never heard of a woman that wouldn’t have a man pay for her things. I am actually pleased to meet two such ladies at once. I am truly charmed.”
          We paid Mr. Ingle for the books and promised him that we would come again. I know that I took note of where the shop was and would most likely return there soon. Mr. Wilson, returned us to the gallery, where our parents were waiting, my mother and sisters looking perplexed as Mr. Wilson was escorting me by arm and not my sister.
          “Well, I return your daughters to you. They were very pleasant company and I believe one found something she was looking for. Now I must brave this gallery. My Aunt wanted me to look here but I was distracted. I have heard that this place doesn’t have the greatest work, what you think?” he inquired my parents. Their looks of misunderstanding grew greater as my mother said, “I thought the work in there was quite appealing. We bought several pieces there today.”
          “Oh, really. Well, then I guess it depends upon taste, doesn’t it.” I couldn’t believe that he just insulted my parents. I actually thought it was quite funny. “I must have a look at this gallery. Ladies, it was a pleasure. Maybe I’ll see you at my aunt Bremer’s event later this week?” With my nod, he took Charlene’s hand and bowed low over it. When he took my hand, he bent low to kiss the back. I was pleasantly shocked. I couldn’t believe that he kissed my hand and not that of my sisters as well. My parents were red in the face. Not only were his actions somewhat inappropriate, they thought they were bestowed upon the wrong daughter. Before he could disappear into the building I called after him, “Mr. Wilson, to answer your earlier question, she is.” By the time my father thought to react, he had disappeared into the gallery.
          My father decided that there wasn’t enough room in the carriage to fit all of us so he told me that a walk would do me good, and that he expected me to be at home shortly. I guess nothing had changed in my family. It actually got worse.