It was time for Thames to dress for the wedding.
Thames dragged his feet all the way there.
Why did he have to pick me?
I did na think that befriendin' a merchant man would lead to wedding his daughter! I can see the position he's in. He has a daughter coming of age within brothel walls...he wants a husband for her, save her from that life. Perhaps she wants savin'. Mayhaps she wants that life! I know not, I never met the girl.
'Tisn't that me not wantin' a woman. But I do not want only one woman! What a terrible fate!
Now the day wanes. It shall be night soon.
Thames pulled off his clothes, and pulled on his wedding clothes. He stopped to make sure it looked nice.
At least I be a gypsy man. Look at me, wearing bright red, like a king! And I'm not even marrying a gypsy queen. I do be sharin' the camp with all the gypsies in Ottoman kingdom, and it's Queen Rosamunde that runs it, and not I. But if I were a simple peasant man? The place would be me own...and so would the hut made of mud and straw and the rags we would wear... Here, she has women folk about. That way I won't be bothered by her all the time. Well...I might like being bothered by the girl some of the time.
I jest need to keep that thought in mind. It will be nice to be bothered by a girl regular like. There, I am almost across the camp, almost there to face...to face...my doom.
The guests were seated. Queen Rosamunde in front, her husband across the aisle. The Rosewood gypsy queen behind Rosamunde... And now I am here, at the edge of the petals.
I am too old for this. I've escaped this fate so far, and now me own feet betray me! See them walking over the petals to...me doom.
He stood there alone. Then he grew quite hopeful. Mayhaps the girl ran off back to the brothel where she was bred! Then he heard a rustle. Well I won't look!
Before he knew it the girl stood before him. Frella...that was her name, Frella Longfellow. Not her dad's name but a whore's name tacked on the end. Well, she'd be rid of that by the end of the weddin'.
A wave of panic passed over him.
Then he remembered the girl. If this is how an old groom feels, how must young bride be feelin'? Thames felt ashamed.
She has pretty yellow hair.
Her lips...full delicious lips. Perhaps I could be happy...
Suddenly Thames felt very eager to marry his bride. But then - why would this wee bride be wantin' this old man?
She smiles! I can at least try to bring me bride some joy.
Somehow or another they blundered through the words. One would think the girl had never been to a weddin' before. Then it hit him. She grew up in a brothel. Surely she hasn't been to a weddin'.
"Frella, my bride, I have somethin' for ye."
"For me?"
"What is it?"
"It's only yer weddin' ring."
"Ye bought me a ring?"
A tear welled up in Thames' eye. Frella expected nothing from him, not even a ring to mark their wedding day. He would try to give he more than that.
Thames placed the ring upon her finger, then handed her the one for him.
"Put it on my finger," he whispered. "No, the one next to the little one."
"Oh, I'm sorry," she put it on in a worried manner. Thames grasped both her hands. She froze.
"It's all right Frella."
"And now you owe me a kiss."
Thames expected to lean in and give a quick peck on the lips to a reluctant bride. Frella surprised him.
Being a gypsy man, Thames was not as worried about an impure bride as other men might be, especially one with merchant blood. When Frella tentatively placed her hand upon his shoulder he could tell she was an untouched maiden. Even the best actress could not fake this innocence.
As the sun set Thames kissed his bride for the first time.
Knowing you, it's her Father, isn't he?
ReplyDeleteLet's see.
Thames Grafton is not her father. Sorry I wasn't more clear. He is good friends with Frella's father, who is a merchant. I tried to say that after the second picture. He knows who Frella's father is, but Frella does not. Aren't you relieved that Frella didn't marry her father?
ReplyDeleteI plan to reveal her father in the next chapter.