Cecile
This conversation wasn't going to be easy, I knew it from the start. Martin was my best friend, yet he knew nothing of my real profession—the one that would either set me up for life, or ruin whatever reputation I managed to make for myself.
In just days, I was going to leave the village of Westingham again. This time, I might never come back.
In a long green dress and red cloak, I walked through the lush, evergreen forest to his house just off the main merchant's road. The sun shone its golden rays on me as white clouds swam across the ocean—blue sky. The smell of fresh wild flowers brought a smile to my face as I breathed it in.
I would miss this.
The countryside was a place of peace and beauty.
Where I was going, the dirty city streets blotted out any chance for flowers to grow, and tall buildings stretched high into the sky, so that the sun could only give a glimpse of its light.
Wringing my hands, I went over in my head what I was about to tell him. He was a simple lad, a wood cutter who made his living off of selling timber. He'd hate me once he learned the truth.
My mum worked as a maid in the house of a wealthy lord. Though she tried to support both of us on such a low wage for a very long time, it was never enough. It would never be enough. Not when I had dreams for a much better life.
Therefore, I was determined to make fate shine its favor on me for a change.
The sound of chatter from several men caused me to slow down. They tilted their hats in greeting and continued to work on sawing a fallen tree. Martin's men, no doubt.
But still, I knew better than to let my guard down around men. I was a pretty girl; young, and an easy target. So, I hurried along, giving them a timid, yet friendly smile as I passed by.
Before long, I walked over a mossy hill and spotted Martin's log cabin right ahead of me. With a basket of treats I'd bought with the little allowance I had for the month, and the homemade liquor my mother had made, I continued walking down the hill, seeing the lavender field surrounding his house.
"Celine," he shouted, setting down an axe as he headed to meet me.
I smoothed my hair, sweat pooling between my bosom. A smile came to my face as he approached. Shirtless, and a sun—kissed chest glistening in the sunlight, he was a specimen of a man. Too handsome for his own good, but not wealthy enough for the life I yearned for.
He grabbed a towel hanging from the wooden fence and wiped his face and neck.
His blond hair was almost completely shaved, and he was tall, lean, with brilliant blue eyes that most girls swooned over. To me, he was Mischievous Martin; the little boy who used to chase me through the village carrying a garden snake in his fist.
I took a deep breath and smiled.
"Good day, Martin," I said, stomach churning as the tiny voice in my head reminded me of why I had come.
"Hello," he said, ushering me into the gate. "This is a pleasant surprise. What brings you here?"
I breathed in. He was too kind—too good for me.
"Let's go inside, I need to talk to you about something," I told him, not wanting to make this even more awkward.
He nodded, and we walked toward his cottage.
Once inside, I lingered near the doorway, watching as he washed his hands in a porcelain basin of water.
"Have a seat," he said. "I'll put on a pot of tea."
Shaking my head, I tried to keep my composure. Breaking his heart would break mine in return.
He lifted a brow; the charming smile of his fading as he read the hesitation in my eyes.
"What's going on, Celine? Don't tell me you're leaving again?" he asked, shoulders slumping as he turned to me. "You've only just returned."
I bit my bottom lip, hating that I had to lie to him again.
"You know I must travel to another province for work," I began, my voice soft and quiet. "But this time I wanted to say goodbye before I left."
I took a step forward, pulling a bottle from my basket, and my cheeks burned as I realised he could see right through my rouse.
"Here is the liquor you like. My mother wanted you to have it," I said, forcing a cheerful smile, but he didn't even glance at it.
A mixture of resentment and warmth filled his gaze. He knew my mother had debts, and that my prospects for employment were contained to working as a lady's maid or governess.
A million lies filled my head, and when I opened my mouth to tell one, he did something completely unexpected. He crossed the room in two swift strides and gathered me into his arms. Before I could protest, he kissed me. I breathed him in, utterly stunned, and caught off guard. Still, my qualms melted as his lips devoured mine.
My dear Martin turned out to be an incredible kisser, and I found myself enjoying his tongue as he tasted me.
His hands slid down to my hips, and despite wanting more of his delicious kisses, I pulled away.
"I can't," I whispered, and glanced up at him, seeing a look of absolute disappointment in his sky—blue eyes. "I came here to say goodbye."
"I have been trying to tell you how I really feel about you," he began. "Why do you always shut me down? We could get married, and I could take care of you. You wouldn't need to work odd jobs the way you do."
He didn't know me—not the woman I'd become. I had too many issues—too many debts. I could never change my life if I stayed here with him. I couldn't imagine myself living in the middle of the forest and pretending that I was happy.
"I'm sorry," I said, and ripped myself from his embrace before he could utter another word.
I dashed from his house, my heart racing in my chest as the warm breeze swept around me.
"I will be waiting for you, Celine," he shouted after me.
I dropped my basket, and broke into a run, fearful that he'd begin to chase me.
No matter how hard I tried to forget his words and tender kiss, they haunted me the entire trek home.
The forest seemed darker and colder as I wrapped my arms around myself. Before long, my thoughts turned to the last trip I'd taken. I had served a very rich lord who needed a companion to his sister's wedding. He didn't pay me very much, and I spent long hours listening to his monologue about his unhappy marriage. His wife had left him for another man. I didn't have to do much, but I looked forward to going back home much sooner than I thought.
It was the life of a courtesan—one my mother had started at the very young age of sixteen. It was the same age I'd begun my training with a male companion.
Once I returned home, I made a pot of tea and settled down at the small table just beside the front door. We lived in an old cottage in the middle of the village. We had chickens and pigs. The roof was made from straw, and there were a few holes in it.
Despite the limited space and cracked walls, I loved that house.
It was home.
"How did he take it?" Mother asked as she entered. She removed her long cloak and hung it on a hook beside the door.
"He kissed me before I could even explain anything, then he asked me to marry him," I explained, feeling like the worst coward on earth.
My mother walked up to me and embraced me. She smelled of cherry blossom and lavender. With beautiful, long blond hair, a pale complexion, and bright blue eyes, we looked more like sisters. She was once the beauty of Westingham, and yet that wasn't enough to keep my father from abandoning us. When my father ran away, my mother fell apart. She thought he was the love of her life. Knowing what love could do to a person, I was resolved to never fall for a man.
Perhaps that explained why I never allowed myself to truly let dear Martin in.
"Don't worry, it's for the best," she said, kissing me on the forehead. "Sit, let's go over your options."
"What have you heard?"
She sat down and took my hands into hers. A ghost of a smile came to her lips.
"The date of the auction has been set, my dear. It will start two days from now. The messenger told me the carriage will be here in a few hours."
I inhaled. This was what I'd been waiting for.
"Tell me, Celine—are you sure you're ready for this?"
"Of course," I said. "How could I not be thrilled about the prospect of having all of our problems solved?"
"Yes, it may help us a great deal having money to pay the debts your father left behind, but dear, money does not truly fix all problems. I just want you to be happy."
I nodded. "Yes, I understand that. But, it will go a long way if the auction goes well."
She settled back into her chair, her eyes fixed on mine, then she released a heavy sigh. "I hope whoever wins the bid is a respectable man."
As do I.
"Your first night with a man will be difficult, but you will get through it. Maybe you'll even enjoy it."
"All will be fine, Mum. Please don't worry about me."
"Yes, but these men will be bidding for your virginity; this isn't something that happens every day," she said. "I just want to make sure you're truly ready."
She was right. I never thought I would be going
through something like this—taking part in an auction where wealthy men would be bidding on me. I nodded and sipped my hot tea.
I swore I was ready for this.
So, why was I so terrified?
