Sir Wallinghton

         “Caillean!” her father called from downstairs.

         She didn’t bother to move, she knew he was coming in anyway. Her father’s footsteps could be heard from the wooden stairs. Soon the door opened without him bothering to knock.

         “How can you possibly be still in bed?! It is a wonderful morning! Get up! I have something to tell you. I’ll have Sarah come here to help you dress.”

         He turned to go and then stopped and told her, without turning to face her “I’d like you to put on that dress I bought you last week, we’ll have visits today and I want you to be gorgeous.”

         She moaned something unintelligible to her pillow. She hated her new dress. It was too tight, too provocative, too green (her father said it was the exact color of her eyes)… And who the hell could be visiting? Since her mother died there had been no visitors. She was always by herself and, honestly, that’s how she liked it. She was the kind of person who didn’t like big crowds and noise and too much movement. She liked to be left alone with her thoughts, her books, her dreams. The Duke of Amorias, her father, was always drinking since her mother’s death, and spent all his nights at the club doing god knows what… He rarely gave her any kind of attention, except for the gifts he gave her from time to time, with no apparent reason.

         Without any hint of enthusiasm, Caillean dragged herself out of bed and went to the basin to wash her face. After drying out the excess of water, she braided her long, black hair.

         She turned around when she heard a knock on the door. Sarah’s head popped in.“May I come in, Miss?”

         “Yes, Sarah, come in and help me up with this nightmarish dress!” She said lifting up the dress, which took a great effort.

         “Don’t say that, Miss! That one is a beautiful dress. I would never be able to afford one like that!” Sara said, admiring the beautiful details.

         “You can have it, if you want. I don’t like it at all. But today I’ll have to wear it. Father wants me to, I have no idea why…”

         While she was getting dressed, Caillean remembered what her father had said. She glanced at the other woman.

         “Sarah…”

         “Yes, Miss?”

         “Do you know who’s coming here today? Father made it sound important. And even if he didn’t, we haven’t had people here for ages. Who is it that’s coming now and why?”

         Sara didn’t reply at first, she was occupied lacing the bodice.

         “I don’t know, Miss. But whoever it is or whatever the reason, it must be important indeed. Your father, the duke, ordered for an enormous amount of food for tonight’s supper. He said he’s hosting an important dinner for over one hundred people, but that everything depends on how this afternoon goes with his guest.”

         This shocked Caillean more than it intrigued her. How was this possible? A party? Over a hundred people? What on earth is going on here?



         Slowly she walked down the stairs, minding her too long dress so she wouldn’t fall. Caillean could hear her father speaking to someone, telling him something about some ship with whisky which was to come soon. She walked to the door of the room and knocked.

         “Come in.” Her father’s voice said.

         She opened the door and peered inside. Her father was sitting down on a comfortable chair with a glass of some amber liquid (possibly whisky). In the double couch, in front of him was an old man with a kind smile on his face. He was drinking the same thing as her father.

         “Ah, Caillean! Come on in, my dear! Come on in!” Her father said, good-tempered. “We were waiting for you.”

         That struck her as the most peculiar thing she had ever heard. Caillean went in to meet them, eyeing the old man curiously. He looked at her with a strange glint in his eyes. He was suddenly slightly red, she presumed it was from the drink. Both men had stood as she came in.

         “Caillean, this is Sir Wallinghton, an old friend of our family. Sir, please meet my daughter, Caillean.”

         Sir Wallinghton, without taking his eyes off hers, took her hand and kissed it, inclining his head slightly.

         “It is a wonderful pleasure to finally meet you, my dear.” His voice was slightly dragged, but soft.

         The pleasure is mine, Sir.” Caillean answered automatically.

         “Please, join us. Sit down!” He asked, pointing at the empty space at his side, on the couch. She sat down and crossed her hands on her lap.

         Soon, Trudy brought tea and some biscuits. As the conversation went on between the Duke and Sir Wallinghton, Caillean stayed there looking at both of them without saying a word. What could she say about their business and about things she had never heard before? Sir Wallinghton was always trying to include her in the conversation and looking at her with that grandfatherly smile of his. He seemed anxious in a way, like as if he was anticipating something. She was thinking of these things when she was awakened by her father’s voice talking about the ball tonight.

         “Caillean isn’t used to life in society. Since her mother died, we haven’t had much… movement around here, you know.” He suddenly cocked his head to the side, as if listening to something far away. “Oh, someone is calling me. It must be about the ball. These people can do nothing without me… I will be right back. You two should stay here and talk.”

         Caillean watched in horrified surprise as her father left the room. How could he do this to her? First, he knew how shy she was. What was she going to say to this man? But what really upset her was the fact that the Duke always minded what was seemly, although she herself didn’t. Leaving her alone with a man she didn’t know wasn’t seemly at all. What was her father thinking? She was more and more intrigued. Besides, she was positive nobody had called her father. She hadn’t heard anything. And if anyone needed him, they would have come to the door and call him, not shout his name from some distant place of the house… For the second time that day she wondered What on earth is going on here?

         Slowly, she turned to face Sir Wallinghton, trying to put  a neutral look on her face. Her eyes met the same strange glint she had noticed when she entered the room.

         “Well, my dear miss, I think it’s just us, now. Tell me, are you excited about the party tonight?”

         “Er… I guess, I mean… I don’t know, I think I am. This will be my first party.”

         “Oh! I can remember my first ball! I was nervous, thinking I wouldn’t know how to make conversation with all that people or how to behave. My mother made it all seem so difficult… But it isn’t, not really. You just have to pretend you are the most calm and distant person in the world. Act like you’re used to it, like as if you go to balls every other day.”

         Caillean smiled. “Do you know the reason for this ball? I only learned about it this morning.”

         He made a surprised face.

         “Your father didn’t tell you?!... Well, I think it is a surprise, then.”

         “A surprise? You mean it has something to do with me?” Caillean asked amazed.

         “You could say it has, in a way… Yes.”

         “In a way?”

         “You’ll see, my dear. You’ll see…”

         Caillean looked at his brown, smiling eyes. She wasn’t sure she liked surprises. Actually, she couldn’t remember the last time someone prepared a surprise for her. Well, of one thing she was certain: she didn’t trust her father’s sense of humor and the last thing she wanted was a bad surprise in front of one hundred strangers. But how could she find out what was going on here? Sir Wallighton made it clear that he wasn’t going to say a thing.

         “You know, my dear, you changed a lot since the last time I saw you.” Sir Wallinghton’s voice brought her back.

         “We’ve met before?”

         “Oh, yes. Yes, we did! A long time ago. Before your mother… Well, you were still a child. Of course you wouldn’t remember me. You were around 8, maybe? I always knew you were going to be… special. But you are even more beautiful than anyone could predict.”

         Caillean looked at her hands. What could she answer? She was feeling even more unconfortable than she felt before. The glint was back in his eyes.

         “Thank you.” She said. “I’m flattered.”

         “You don’t have to be, dear. Surely you have looked at yourself in a mirror. Your beauty could be compared to an angel’s.” We was serious for a moment. This made his face almost scary. Even if she knew what to say, Caillean couldn’t. She couldn’t take her eyes off his. His pause was brief. “Just like your mother’s.”

         As he spoke, Sir Wallinghton had moved closer to her. She could smell whisky and tobacco on his breath. She wanted to back away, or better yet, she wanted to run from that room.

         After what felt like an eternity, Caillean finally managed to look another way, turning her eyes back to her hands.

         “Did you know her well? My mother?” Her voice trembled slightly.

         “You can say that.” He leaned back away from her and Caillean felt she could suddenly breath more easily. “You look a lot like her, except for your eyes. Your mother’s were blue, while your’s are green. Marisa had an aura about her. She was calm and kind. Always very quiet, although she had that powerful look.”

         Caillean knew what he meant. She remembered her mother. She never raised her voice, always soft and kind. Caillean always remembered her mother with a sad look on her face. But she had that confident posture that made everbody obey her without questioning.

         “Everybody respected and loved her.” Sir Wallinghton continued. “It was with great sadness that we all received the knew of her death.”

         Caillean looked at him again. He looked like a grandfather again. She wasn’t sure she liked him or hated him. She opened her mouth to say something, she wasn’t sure what, when the door opened and her father came in.

         “Everything is ready! It is going to be a great party!” He went over to his desk and filled another glass of whisky for himself, refilled Sir Wallighton’s and sat down again.

         The conversation went back to business and money. After a while Caillean excused herself, saying she wasn’t ready for the party yet and got out. Her father kept talking. Only Sir Wallinghton looked at her smiled that kind smile of his.

         Caillean went back to her room, forcing herself to walk quietly instead of runing. She couldn’t stop seeing Sir Wallinghton’s eyes in her mind. The way he looked at her before they started talking about her mother.

         When she got to her room, she closed the door behind her and leaned against it.

         “What a creep!” She thought aloud. She mentally shuddered thinking of the way he was leaning to her, the smell of his breath, the look on his face. But then she thought of his grandfatherly smile and his natured face. How could he change so much from one moment to the other? “What a creep!” She said again.

         She never wanted to see him again. She would stay in her room until he went away. Then she remembered the party that night and groaned.

         Sir Wallinghton had said there would be a surprise and from what she gathered it would affect her somehow. She remembered Sarah saying that tonight’s supper depended on her father’s conversation with Sir wallinghton this afternoon. She only heard them talk about money. Caillean shrugged and went to lie on her bed. It had probably something to do with some business between her father and that creep. It wasn’t going to affect her directly, anyway.

         She just hoped she didn’t have to see Sir Wallinghton again, or any time soon.