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WHITE ROSES - Part III
Eric awoke early. Leaving a token of his love on his lady’s pillow he quietly slipped from her chamber fearing that, if found out, their love would be subject to cruel rumour. Sometime later the Duchess stirred roused by the warm rays of the April Sun peeking through her window. Her attention is drawn to a white rose atop the pillow where just had lain the head of her lover. Smiling broadly she girlishly giggles. Waves of ecstasy flow through her body as she recalls their night of sublime passion. Anxious to see him again she hurriedly dresses and rushes down to breakfast only to find him not there. Her heart sinks slightly but she knows that he must be about his chores. “Good morning m’lady.” “Good morning dearest Mary.” “I must say that I am happy to see you smile again with your grace.” “Yes I do feel most cheerful this fine Spring morning.” “One can’t mourn forever don’t you think?” “Yes ma’am I surely do.”
Drifting to a window overlooking the garden. Gazing down she spies Eric tending to the White rose bush. He glances upward and their eyes meet. His glorious smile sparks a tingling sensation deep within her and she longs to feel his hands caressing her breasts, their lips pressed tight. Still holding the gifted rose she holds it up where he can see it and he blows her a kiss. Her eyes are suddenly distracted by the sight of a carriage lifting dust as it passes through her gate and proceeds down the lane. “Mary, she calls, are we expecting visitors?” “Not that I know of m’lady.”
She sits down to breakfast and a cup of tea when she hears voices in the entryway. Mary quietly enters. “Begging your pardon m’lady. There is a Sir Mider here to see you.” “What is the reason for his visit?” “He would not state his business only to say that he needs to relay some urgent news. He is dressed in a military uniform.” “Show him in.” He enters bowing. “Good day, your grace. I am sorry to interrupt your breakfast.” “Not at all dear sir, come and sit. Mary, please bring our guest some tea.” “Thank you m’lady. I am a Lieutenant with the Fifth Cavalry and I served under Sir Cyril’s command. It is with much sadness that I bring to you news of your husband’s death.” The Duchess listens seemingly unaffected by the news. “Your Grace the Duke is dead” he says again as if perhaps the first time she couldn’t hear him. “Oh dear sir I apologize for my cool response but I have known of his death for some weeks now.” “How can that be m’lady for we are only now returning from battle and have sent no messengers before us.”
She stands and walks toward the window. “The groundskeeper of our estate was wounded while on the front line and sent home to us bearing the sad news. He told us of how the Duke died a valiant death defending him on the field of battle.” “Your Grace I know nothing of this man of whom you speak even so he is sorely mistaken for Sir Cyril was stabbed in the back. Cruelly murdered by one of his own. The cowardly villain was quickly identified by another cavalry officer and the blaggard was by a saber run clean through.” Confused and horrified by this new account she turns to gaze again on Eric in the garden. He is gone. “Madam I assure you that your husband died a hero.” She was too stunned to reply and then she began to shake. She screamed and the color drained from her cheeks as she remembered while making love how Eric had winced when her fingernails dug into a scar on his back. “Your Grace are you alright?” The room spins and all is black.
Drifting to a window overlooking the garden. Gazing down she spies Eric tending to the White rose bush. He glances upward and their eyes meet. His glorious smile sparks a tingling sensation deep within her and she longs to feel his hands caressing her breasts, their lips pressed tight. Still holding the gifted rose she holds it up where he can see it and he blows her a kiss. Her eyes are suddenly distracted by the sight of a carriage lifting dust as it passes through her gate and proceeds down the lane. “Mary, she calls, are we expecting visitors?” “Not that I know of m’lady.”
She sits down to breakfast and a cup of tea when she hears voices in the entryway. Mary quietly enters. “Begging your pardon m’lady. There is a Sir Mider here to see you.” “What is the reason for his visit?” “He would not state his business only to say that he needs to relay some urgent news. He is dressed in a military uniform.” “Show him in.” He enters bowing. “Good day, your grace. I am sorry to interrupt your breakfast.” “Not at all dear sir, come and sit. Mary, please bring our guest some tea.” “Thank you m’lady. I am a Lieutenant with the Fifth Cavalry and I served under Sir Cyril’s command. It is with much sadness that I bring to you news of your husband’s death.” The Duchess listens seemingly unaffected by the news. “Your Grace the Duke is dead” he says again as if perhaps the first time she couldn’t hear him. “Oh dear sir I apologize for my cool response but I have known of his death for some weeks now.” “How can that be m’lady for we are only now returning from battle and have sent no messengers before us.”
She stands and walks toward the window. “The groundskeeper of our estate was wounded while on the front line and sent home to us bearing the sad news. He told us of how the Duke died a valiant death defending him on the field of battle.” “Your Grace I know nothing of this man of whom you speak even so he is sorely mistaken for Sir Cyril was stabbed in the back. Cruelly murdered by one of his own. The cowardly villain was quickly identified by another cavalry officer and the blaggard was by a saber run clean through.” Confused and horrified by this new account she turns to gaze again on Eric in the garden. He is gone. “Madam I assure you that your husband died a hero.” She was too stunned to reply and then she began to shake. She screamed and the color drained from her cheeks as she remembered while making love how Eric had winced when her fingernails dug into a scar on his back. “Your Grace are you alright?” The room spins and all is black.
Published 15th Mar 2018
| Edited 26th Oct 2021
Author's Note
A romance in three parts.
Painting by Edward John Poynter, "Young lady seated with white roses"
Painting by Edward John Poynter, "Young lady seated with white roses"
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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15th Mar 2018 6:49pm
A very dark and powerful end to the tale. I'd like to see some more prose from you, Gahdess. You have a masterful way with the form.
15th Mar 2018 6:52pm
I'll try another. I wrote a short love story about a drive-in theater. I think you may have already read that one. Your words inspire me to explore another write. Thank you Sir Crow.
16th Mar 2018 3:46am
A much enjoyed read, my friend, though was not expecting the turn at the end.
As above, would love to see more of these journeys through your thoughts.
Well done.
As above, would love to see more of these journeys through your thoughts.
Well done.
16th Mar 2018 4:08am
Thank you do much Teri. I was going for the Victorian/gothic, romance/ ghost story genre...Jane Austen, Edgar Allan Poe collab.
