The Greyheart Lair

There is not much known about the Greyheart family. How they got to own the land of London’s suburbs, or how Mr William Greyheart became so rich so fast. The only clear information is that these people have always preferred to be alone.

Although there are no known facts about them, there have always been rumours. It is said that Mr Greyheart was a great connoisseur of carnal pleasures, for this reason, he only had female servants. Because of her husband’s consuming pleasures, Mrs Greyheart was rumoured to have run away with a lover as far as Germany. Of course, the evil mouths say she would not have dared to run away from her husband; that he had caught her with a man of a low rank and had killed her then buried her in the yard of the house in a place where a willow later grew.

At the death of Mr Greyheart, there were no tears, no laughter; not very many people came to give their condolences to the young heir, to begin with. Lucas Greyheart inherited his father’s entire fortune, and unfortunately, all the buzz surrounding the family. Young gentleman Greyheart was not like his father; he was tall and always straight and stiff, always wearing the same black suit - which was not very elegant but not worn out either- and always wore a hat, the same as the late Greyheart, hiding his face from the world.

Young gentleman Greyheart would rarely attend dinner parties organized by the Lords or Ladies, and even rarely could be seen with a woman. Rumour said that he might be traumatized by his childhood days with the late Mr Greyheart; that he had seen his mother tortured and murdered by his father. These reasons led to one conclusion that all the nobility and the middle class of London - even England - have agreed on: Lucas Greyheart hated women, could not bear to be near them, and could not speak a word in front of one.

So imagine the surprise of the whole country when this heir, a man who was over 30 years old and made an incredible wealth out of agriculture, accepted to marry Helena Eastorwine, a woman 10 years younger but with extraordinary baggage, both emotional and monetary.

Birds were chirping, the wind was blowing, moving the branches of trees around the Eastorwine estate in a suave dance. It was a wonderful October day, much warmer and sunnier than usual as if the universe was preparing for the event that was to take place in three days.

“When did you decide this?” asked the bride, Helena Eastorwine.

Behind the 24-year-old was her mother, a little hunched from the time spent sewing. Mrs Eastorwine was a chubby woman, although she often tried to hide her shapes in the very tight corsets she wore, she used to wear her hair loose because it was short and curly and her face was rather intimidating. She was not a beautiful woman but she was a proud woman who, despite the difficulties she had lived with, wanted to give her daughter a better future.

“Not more than a month ago. Mr Greyheart agreed relatively quickly and gave us a positive response. You should be proud of yourself, Helena. Mr Greyheart is-”

“Mr Greyheart is a source of rumours, and not all of them are about how mysterious and rich he is,” retorted Helena in an insolent tone.

The young woman was so mad that she could only stand on her feet with her hands hanging loosely along her sides. Her frustrations were not solely based on the idea of being gifted to a man only because in return he could pay for her family’s expenses but for the idea that her mother planned it in the first place.

“Many women want this man but he chose to be your husband. Accept without question. ”

“Why is this man still alone? Why do these women want him, but they do not even approach him? Why did he choose me, knowing very well the financial situation we are in? Hmm?“ pestered the girl, trying to keep herself in check, though she was riled on the inside.

All those questions were pointless because Mrs Eastorwine was not ready to give answers. Being small in stature, especially beside her tall daughter, she seemed unable to hold even a verbal fight. Nevertheless, Mrs Eastorwine frowned and left the room, not before, however, looking at her daughter with a scowl and saying:

“Mr Greyheart will arrive this afternoon. You’d better not miss your first date with your future husband,“ announced Mrs Eastorwine, and then left.

Alone in her bedroom, Helena could finally exteriorize her inner hurricane. She screamed and grabbed anything near only to throw it wherever she could. By the time she calmed down, sheets and dresses were torn apart, making sure that Mr. Greyheart will not fancy her.

Hours passed incredibly fast for the girl but not as fast for the rest of the family, or Mr. Greyheart himself. He did not expect such a turn of events, not with a family that’s been suffering bankruptcy and obviously needed his money. Still, he was in a carriage heading to Enfield. Even the name of the district was enough to make him remember all the negativity this arrangement has met from outsiders.

Nevertheless, it was his life and his choice that brought him to this moment. The Eastorwine family wanted a sponsor and he needed a way to calm down the ever-growing rumours about the Lair. He couldn’t believe it when he heard he supposedly hates women so when Mrs. Eastorwine asked him if he’d like to marry her daughter, ignoring the initial shock, he agreed without a second thought. What better person to shift the attention off of the Lair if not her.

“Are you overthinking this situation, as always, Mr. Greyheart?” asked the man sitting opposite the rich man.

“You advised me numerous times before, Papillon, but is this the best choice we have?” asked Mr. Greyheart, looking at his confidant with doubt.

“No, it’s not,” answered the elder, “she will be the lamb that noblemen will slaughter once she steps inside the Lair and many may use her to get to you. But she’s your best candidate.”

“Because she murdered her former lover?” asked the young man, a tint of sarcasm in his voice.

“No, because she has a strong will. If both of you play your roles well, you won’t have to bother for long.” finished Papillon, turning to look at the passing sight.

Mr. Greyheart sighed and looked down at his hands, many thoughts running through his head. Maybe he was making the greatest mistake of his life, one that could ruin him, or maybe Papillon was right and if they played their roles well, marriage could become only a formality.