The cold snow bit my knees as my dress became soaked through with slush, the frosty wind froze me to the very core as I kneel on the ground, my beloveds blood turning the snow pink. He was murdered in the early hours of December 1st 1864, one of my friends had ridden out desperately and found me they then delivered the terrible news, I thought I was going to faint.
My dear Tristan was my everything, we were engaged after a year of courtship and due to be married on December 25th 1864, but now my dream has flown to heaven with my love. The undertakers soon came and took his body away from me, of course I tried to fight them. I tried to convince them that I needed to be his side but they told me to go home. My friend Esmerelda took me home in her cart and Gypsy Vanner mare who pulled it happily.
“You’ll be okay Nightingale” she smiled at me as she tapped the horses rump to go faster.
“No I won’t be, Tristan protected me all from harm and now he’s not here...” I trailed off as tears silenced me.
“You will be fine, I shall make sure of it” she smiled at me.
Of course I was disbelieving to her words, she was a gypsy and had travelled the world she understood it well and viewed the world differently. I was just a widow who lived in a luxurious Manor House on the hill and in charge of the small town called Sapphire Way on the Outskirts of London. The cart ride was quiet, all that could be heard was the horses soft footfalls in the slushy powder on the ground.
We soon came to my home, I told Esmerelda to stop at the bottom as the steep hill was too icy and dangerous for the horse and cart. I bid her my farewell and walked into the empty house, the servants had already lit the fire and Lucas ran to me taking my coat, Betsy bought me a glass of mulled wine. I wandered into the drawing room, I danced my fingers over the smooth mahogany table my fingers running over documents recently signed by my deceased late husband.
It broke my heart to know I would never see him again. I caught my reflection in the mirror hanging below a black bears head. I looked pale, tired and my long brunette hair was soaked from the snow flakes that fell onto it, it looked almost as if I had traded my tresses for string them being one of the assets my dear husband loved about me, how he would run his fingers through it and brush it out of the way if it got in his way, he was the one who convinced me to grow it out long and would remind me everyday how,it suited me.
My thoughts were suddenly interrupted as a crow fell down the chimney and into the fire, with out thinking I dropped the glass on the wooden floor smashing it and grabbing the bird from the flames, I screamed as my hands were burnt causing my servants to run in. “Mam?” Betsy asked, Lucas took the injured bird from me while Betsy helped me up from the ground. “Oh you poor child, come we’ll sort that for you” she told me leading me into the kitchen.
She sat me down while she got a bowl of water and cloth, she took one of my pale hands and applied warm water causing me to squeal and nearly pull away. “It’s okay, I’m being gentle” she reassured me. She could tell I was a little shaken still from learning about my husbands death, my hands were shaking a little and I felt cold. Betsy rested s hand on my forehead. “My dear child you have a fever, let’s get you to bed” she told me after finishing wrapping bandages around my hand.
Betsy led me upstairs and helped me get changed into my night gown, she brushed my hair gently which lulled me to sleep further, the fire burned brightly and comfortingly. Betsy helped me into bed, she pulled the covers up and wished me good night before leaving, shutting the squeaking door as quietly as she could. I lay my head down on the soft swan feathered pillow and await sleep to consume me, but alas for me it wouldn’t arrive, I tossed and turned my sheets crunching and scrunching under my movement. The tall clock chimed in the village square as it was three in the morning and I had to be up early to go to the coroner and sort the funeral plans, one thing I knew I would dread but something I knew I would have to get right since Tristan didn’t leave any specific requirements.