Chapter 1
The woman lifted her daughter off the boat and cast a final glance at the temporary home they had inhabited for half a month. Charlotte’s experience had not been pleasant; being forced to travel in a confined space and unable to properly stretch her legs were considered a crime in her book. It was not by choice that Charlotte decided to trap herself with her daughter, Emily, in her humble four-wall room. The mere thought sent an unpleasant shiver down her body when she thought back to the crew’s leering gaze, which perhaps could have been due to her foreign status or the fact she was the first female they had seen in weeks travelling on the ship. Either way, this resulted in Charlotte wasting most of her time confined in her quarters, only going on deck to stretch her legs and appease Emily’s curious nature about the different sea creatures she could identify when she wasn’t throwing up.
Being her first time, Emily was super excited to travel on a boat like her father once did. However, a few days into their journey, Charlotte noted her daughter’s initial excitement began to dwindle, and the only thing she desired was a pillow and blanket. The change in Emily’s mood caused her mother to worry, especially when she started vomiting. If it weren’t for the ship stopping to conduct a maintenance check, Charlotte would not have uncovered Emily’s ailment was due to motion sickness.
Charlotte was astounded. Surely her daughter could not have inherited this from her late husband, James, and she would think this would be a strike against anyone who wanted to be a navy officer as they practically lived at sea.
As they made their way over a plank made of wood that acted as a bridge leading them to the docks, Charlotte was glad to finally put the boat behind her and be on sturdy ground. Although it would take an additional week to rid her nose of the awful smell of raw fish and seawater, she dreads to think about the humidity and the damages it may have caused. The thought caused her to run a short white tulle gloved hand underneath her wide-brimmed straw cartwheel hat. A sigh of relief departs her lips, confirming that her frizzed hair was still sleek back in a bun.
She walks up to a crew member in charge of unloading the fresh produce the sailors caught during the weeks at sea. Pulling out their passes, Charlotte gives them to the worker, who accepts the ticket with a bow and hurries to retrieve the passenger’s luggage. A few moments later, the worker returned with Charlotte’s luggage placing it down near her leather-clad boots.
“Thank you...,” Charlotte was reluctant to ask her question, unsure whether the man could offer the relevant information. Giving him a once-over, she takes in his short build, dressed in a pair of loose linen trousers with his chest left bare to combat the heat of Twizhong, but in Charlotte’s opinion, he wanted to show off his newly developed muscles. His monolid eyes stared into hers, waiting on Charlotte’s question, a feature she noted many people shared on the boat.
“Would you happen to know where I may hail a carriage from?” she spoke slowly, hoping that he would at least understand one word in that sentence. But, instead, a pregnant pause stretched between them gradually, a frown marred his thick brow, and her heart sank.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been on land,” the slight widening of Charlotte’s eyes indicated her surprise at hearing her native tongue in a foreign land. However, the soft timbre in his voice was soothing to the ear, and the patient he exhibits enunciating each English word. He pauses, scratching the non existed goatee while ransacking his brain before proceeding to answer.
“But, if I’m not mistaken, there is a carriage station straight over this bridge.”
Thanking the crewman Charlotte collects her luggage from the ground with her daughter beside her; she begins to walk in the direction instructed, only to hear a voice calling out towards her. Pausing her steps, Charlotte turned back to see the crewman who had directed her, flaring his arms, trying to get her attention as he jogged towards her.
As he reached an appropriate talking distance not too close to alarm the woman and child, he asked, “Why don’t I take you to the carriage station, hmm? I don’t want you ending up in the wrong parts of town, especially a pretty lady like yourself.” He grips one of Charlotte’s luggage from her hand and begins strolling at a leisure pace, leaving her with no choice but to follow.
After a moment of silence of them walking over the bridge together, Charlotte could no longer contain the questions she wanted to ask the kind man. “Where did you learn to speak the English language?”
“I spent a large amount of my time on the sea and have encountered a lot of English men throughout my travels, which led me to my two years stay in England. However, I met many unpleasant people during my time there.” Charlotte knew the sort of unpleasantness he was referring to, racism. It was an unkept secret in England that everyone knew about, and only a handful participated in the game between the upper and lower classes. However, if you were unlucky enough to fall outside of these classes, even the lower class treated you as if you were the muck under their feet.
“I must apologise on behalf of my countrymen. But, unfortunately, though it might not seem like it, not all of us are like that.” She stared into his eyes, hoping to convey how apologetic she felt about his ill-treatment.
A sheepish smile made its way to his lips, “My lady, you should not be apologising on behalf of those mindless people.” His eye strays to Emily and back to the mother. “You may have fared worst than I. There are many unpleasant people in this world.” As those words left his lips no sooner, a finely dressed woman skirted past him, leaving a wide breach, fearing he may stain her silk frock-like skirt.
A busy street greets the end of the bridge. Charlotte leans to her right to address her daughter, “Emily, you must hold onto my hand, alright?” She grabs the child’s hand, preparing to enter the chaos of the busy streets.
There must have been over a hundred people bustling around the market, shoving and pushing each other as they went along. There were a few instances where Charlotte had to use her luggage to part the crowd, not to say she escaped without being unscathed.
“It seems I, too, must apologise. Usually, it is not this busy, and I’m afraid we might have arrived at the peak time.” The man said as he kept turning his head to ensure Charlotte had not gotten lost in the crowd; any response she may have to his apology would have been futile. Spotting a space across the road, the man acted fast with his free hand; he grabbed Charlotte’s arm and hurriedly pulled her across the street and into the vacated spot on the crowd’s outskirt.
“It might be best for you to wait here until I can find a carriage.” He puts down her luggage and hurries off, not waiting for the woman’s reply. She wore a high lace collar blouse lightly embellished that was bloused loosely at the bodice. A leather belt secured her tucked-in white chiffon wrist-length blouse in her high-waisted skirt with the hemline grazing the street of Twizhong. Charlotte often favoured the versatile two-piece outfit instead of the dress; however, this did not mean she would not put on a dress now and then. The petticoat underneath the skirt aided the free-flowing movement and allowed Charlotte more mobility.
The corset underneath her two-piece lessens the pressure on the waistline by pushing Charlotte’s chest forward and her hips back, giving her an S-curve shape. However, Charlotte supposes she must have looked out of place compared to the woman in Twizhong who wore dresses that disguised their figure with their overly puffy skirt.
“Mother, is this not exacting? We have finally arrived in the city.” The nine-year-old enthusiasm was contagious, Emily’s green-blue eyes flickering to the left and right, absorbing every detail the city had to offer. The two golden pigtails with a ribbon tied at the end holding the braid in place flared with each motion of Emily’s head. The young child beamed into her mother’s mahogany eyes and squeezed Charlotte’s glove hand.
Her chubby cheeks stretched into a smile, revealing a single missing tooth was just adorable, Charlotte’s beautiful little girl. Emily is a Godsend, but her mother was keeping a secret unbeknown to the little girl. It is a secret that would wipe away the child’s smile; just the thought alone caused Charlotte’s right hand to grip her cotton skirt tightly, and it was at that very moment she vowed Emily would never find out.
Charlotte’s late husband, James Wilson – God bless his soul, has always stuck by her side.
They’ve been trying to conceive for some time until Emily came along. James was her everything, the day that James first asked Charlotte to be his wife felt like yesterday instead of three measly years ago. Charlotte’s lips slowly stretch into a smile as her pupils dilate with emotion, her eyes fill like a jug of water, her gaze lost in a memory of the past.
1856, how could she ever forget that year? The weather was bristling cold as though the Ice Queen sent her soldiers to terrorise the citizens of London. The trees were bare as though someone had deliberately separated the leaves from their lover’s embrace; in hindsight, this forebodes the couple’s short marriage. Shunned by his teammate – the friends he called brothers, the people he would not think twice in laying down his life to protect, exiles him for his choice to marry her. James hoped his friends would accept Charlotte and continue to stick by his side, but what did he receive in return? Threats from his family and promises of disownment, yet James did not care and followed through with his union by marrying this so-called uncivilised woman even if it meant that James would lose everything.
She can still hear Mrs Wilson’s obtuse voice ringing in her ear.
“You have ruined him! Do you hear me? Charlotte, you have ruined my son,” the lady howls at the younger woman, quickly changing her approach, seeing that shouting wasn’t getting through to Charlotte.
“Please, if you have any love towards my son, then let him go,” she pleads, softly squeezing Charlotte’s shoulders while slowly increasing her pressure after a few minutes without hearing the desired response. Then, finally, the older woman explodes, “You selfish girl! You call this love. You don’t love him!” Mrs Wilson sneered as spit flew out her toxic mouth. Her grip on Charlotte’s shoulders tightened, causing her hand to turn a ghastly pale colour.
“Isn’t everyone selfish when love is involved?” Charlotte finally utters.
Despite it all, he continued to stand by her side even when she begged him to end their relationship. His stubbornness was one of the traits she loved about him. But unfortunately, that trait was like a double edge sword.
In any relationship, there is always that one person holding the other back, and she was that weight sinking James to the bottom of the ocean. So many of their arguments stemmed from that issue, but he would not hear it. James was a kind and loving man that would take your burdens along with his own, not uttering a word of complaint.
But she was no fool.
“Mother!” Emily shouted. Her voice sounded hoarse, as if she had been calling out to her mother for some time. Charlotte’s wide-brimmed straw cartwheel hat slightly moves as she lifts her head forward to stare into Emily’s eyes, showing the child that her attention is solely on her.
“Look, the man is back.” Emily points with her gloveless finger; the action causes the ruffle of her short puffy sleeve knee-length dress. Charlotte looked in the direction her daughter told her to; with the crowd dispersing, she could see the man returning. A black stallion strolled behind the man pulling a two-wheel carriage. The carriage did not exhibit any extravagant designs but was caved from oak and painted a rich brown, making the carriage a lightweight form of transportation for a horse to pull.
“It took a while, but I have finally found a carriage.” The crewman presents as the vehicle comes to a halt. A young man exits out of the transport, helping the mother and child into the passenger seat; cautiously, he guides them over the steps of the carriage, where a black leather padded seat greets them. Once both passengers are safely seated in the carriage, the young man closes the door and hoists himself back where he once sat.
Before the carriage can move on, the woman swiftly draws the curtain and pushes her head out the window, “Thank you for being kind. I know it’s not much, but here,” the woman said, taking a few shillings from a small compartment on her luggage and handed it to the helpful man. After the completion of the transaction, the carriage jolts forward, causing her to topple down in her seat as the horses find a steady trot leading her to the palace. With the curtain still drawn, Charlotte surveys the scenery beyond the window. In the world beyond her own, she saw the tired faces of people passing by as they whisked along to their destination.
In one corner, a store holder firmly stands while he markets away hair trinkets to an audience of women who seem too careless. At the same time, just a few feet away, another lost soul glares into the far distance selling jewellery. The women appear unwavering as their elegant silken skirt dress robed in bright colours change the tone of the atmosphere; their handmaids struggle in the background to catch up with their demands as they fumble back and forth to break ground.
One woman, in particular, aroused Charlotte’s attention as her attire seemed to have been the epicentre of the small group. Maybe a fashion trend per-say, as at the hem of her bright skirt was a finely stitched golden pattern accentuating the roses that engrossed it. Her torso was wrapped perfectly by a dusty blue long-sleeved shirt that appeased her fair skin. Beautiful indeed, and Charlotte would see why all the other women around would want to dress just like her. With the flick of her wrist, the curtain flutters back in place, creating a barrier between Charlotte and the pedestrians.
Charlotte leans back in her seat, trying to find a comfortable spot as she shuts her eyes and enjoys the carriage ride leaving Emily to peer outside the window on her side of the carriage.
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