The yellow orange hue of the sun shone brighter as it inched closer to full bloom bringing with a new day. Fresh scent of the early blossoms of the approaching spring airing the gardens. The green sculptures seated in the front of the estate, inviting as usual, the matching trees housing the most sight pleasing little birdies that welcome the early morn' with their sweet music. The scenery made one thoroughly appreciate nature in its fullest glory. One except the sole heir of the Miller estate, Edward Miles Miller. Edward particularly hated the morn, if he could, he would have given all his wealth to get rid of the treacherous thing. Of course, this very attitude must be attributed to the night he had, the one where he indulged 'til his own body caved. So, in essence it is his own fault that he felt as such, not nature. Nonetheless, he hated it regardless, even more so when the rising sun chose to greet him directly in his eyes. A feat only possible if his maid had come to his room to open the curtains and the windows. The whole thing gave him a much worse head pain than he already had, only this time accompanied by a wave of nausea. Edward turned his head to the side, mindlessly grabbing a silk covered pillow putting it over his face to block out the assaulting light, or any for that matter. It did grant Edward some relief, short lived as it was.
"My Lady wait! Master Miller is still asleep, he is yet to wake. So please My Lady, do not barge into his Lord's room, it is improper. Madam please wait, I will let the Master know-" Edward's Butler sounded through the large hallway all the way to his ears. Edward's head hurt anew.
"-Improper? How dare your lowly self tell me about etiquette. Mind your words with me. Not to mention I am his mother. Now move, I am here to see my dear son." The woman's words attacking Edward's ears louder than the previous but not more so than the sound of her forcing the doors open.
He buried his head deeper in his blankets, smothering himself with the pillow hoping for the sweet release of either death or the bed swallowing him whole. Edward would be happy either way.
"Edward! It is morn, and you still sleep. Need I remind you that you are the Lord of this estate. A man of your status does not sleep this late." Edward tried even harder to disappear, but the woman refused to let him as she pulled the blankets off him.
"My Lady!" the butler cried. The two started their bickering all over again.
Edward at the end of his wits, sat up and threw a pillow at the two. To their astonishment they turned to face the young Lord. His eyes landed on the butler who turned his head down, "Master Miller, I…I did try to stop the Madam but…"
"I am aware that you tried to stop her. You made quite the show of it." Edward finally spoke rubbing his temple. It is not that he faulted his pitiful servant but rather that he has neither the energy nor mind to deal with his mother. "'Tis fine Leonard. You may leave and prepare me a bath then a drink for my ache."
"Yes, my Lord." Leonard exited with his words leaving the young lad with the woman who birthed him. He let out a sigh at the thought.
She started again, "Edward, you are now the Lord of this house. You cannot behave as you did before. You cannot sleep this late, who will run the estate so. A young Lord, Master of such an estate cannot afford such lack of etiquette."
"Really?" Edward asked dismissively as he tried to get out of his large and very comfortable bed, "And here I was thinking that with such an estate, there was nothing I could not afford." He remarked much to his mother's ire.
"You can be impossible at times." She cried.
He got up to dress his self with a long silk robe. "That could easily be said about you too mother. You worry too much, me and the estate are doing fine."
"How can I not when you sleep 'til noon."
"You exaggerate mother, it is the morn, unfortunately." She sat on the edge of the bed, her face dawning a look the young master has seen far too many a times after… the loneliness made itself home on his mother's face. "What brings you back here this early, mother?"
"Can I not come see my boy." Edward was a lot of things, but a fool was not one of them, well as far as the people who really knew him were concerned. So, when he asked that question to her, he had expected her to answer in earnest, however it seems that his mother thought him a fool, just like the rest. Thus, giving her a look hoping to have her confess her sorrows. "I am moving to the north."
The words came as a shock to the young Lord, that he became lacking of words. "The Duke and I were talking at the ball last night…" Edward sat himself back on the bed next to his mother almost bracing for what ever this woman was to drop on his aching head. "…And he made a promise to help me settle well on that side. I think this will be good for me."
The boy scanned his mother in search of, who knows what. "Mother." He spoke all stern and serious it almost startled the woman, "Is the Duke courting you?"
"What! Ri... Ridiculous notion you have." His mother protested much despite the growing tint staining her cheeks, "Me and the Duke." She kept growing more redder the more she seemed to register her son's words, shaking her head profusely, glove covered hands clasping the silk smooth skin of her cheeks to hide her shameful state.
"You say. But mother, you are as red as the colour itself." He called her out while watching this scene unfold before his eyes with a bewildered look.
If Edward had to be honest with himself, it did not bother him as much as he thought it would have. After all, this was the first time he had seen his mother wear an expression other than pain, sorrow and loneliness, well not since his father was alive.
The death of Lord Briggs Miles Miller had been a shock to the inhabitants of Marieta but an even bigger shock to his son. One could only imagine how the woman who had his heart must have felt. The man had been traveling from the west to the north on business, his destination before setting home was the Duke's manor, the two had been close that they behaved like brothers. When he had reached the manor, he was feeling a little under the weather, the Duke offered to send for a physician but Briggs refused saying that it must be fatigue. The pair had brushed it off so, thus the matter was never brought up again. The man had even gotten better on his own, so none thought much of it.
When he settled his business matters in the north, he wrote to his beloved as he had done every time he travelled without his missus. The letter was brief, informing her that his travels were not in vain but much more fruitful than he had expected, he will be staying a little longer to catch up with the Duke, then set off home. To his final destination, to see his love whom he had missed so dearly. He signed it off with words of affection then sent it off. Little did they know that home would indeed be his final destination.
When Briggs left the north, he fell impossibly ill, but by that time, there was no chance of turning back. Not that he wanted to, he wanted to get home. He thought, If I must die, then let it be in the arms of my beloved. As the time progressed the worse, he got, yet the man held on out of sheer force of will, to see his wife. When he finally reached his estate, he called out to his missus, unfortunately she was at the moment on her way home from a lunch tea with the ladies. His body could not wait a little longer and eventually gave in. Moments later she arrived, rushing inside as fast as she could while maintaining decorum when she saw his carriage out front. But when she entered, she was greeted with the sight of her servants crying and some looking at her in pity.
Leonard walked over to her his head bowed down, his own eyes threatening tears, "I am sorry. I did everything I could but still… Lord Briggs is lost to us. He is no more." When the words were floating in the air, she had thought just for a moment that this must be some sick joke her son put the help up to. But she knew Edward better than that, she knew them better than that. Thus, the words registered in her mind, and she felt as though her world had crumbled, she felt as though her heart had been ripped from her.
"Where…where…is …Bri…where is my Briggs." She had cried running up the stairs, decorum all lost, tripping a couple of times on her way, hoping along the way that she will find him in his study buried in paper and smelling like ink. It was empty, the study was empty, but there was not a need to panic, he was probably in their bed chambers. Of course he would be there, she thought. She ran as fast as her feet could carry her, leaving behind the maids and butler calling out to her. And there he was, laying lifeless atop the bed they had lain in for many years. How could she not break down. Crying and calling for him to come back to her and not leave her behind. He had promised to see her when he got back. A promise lost with the last breath of life, evidenced only by the dried ink of his last words to the holder of his heart. When Edward came home from the academy upon hearing the news, the boy found nay his mother but a shell of the woman who used to be.
She had never been the same since. He quite understood that. Many aristocrats married for money, power and status. It was rare to find marriage of pure love; his parents were such a rare case. He found the tale adorable when he was a kid, his parents retelling it far too many times. So, he never thought his mother would open herself for the prospect of remarrying. She was still young so it would not be too absurd and besides he knew one thing about his parents, they were both hopeless romantics, so she must have taken quite the liking to the Duke to be behaving like she is back to her youth. The Duke is not necessarily a bad man, he too lost his love so they must have bonded over that.
But… "None of that matters, as long as he is treating you right. I think father would agree. Though I am curious what you see in that man, he looks angry all the time and very difficult to talk to."
Her cheeks flushed once more, "He is not angry all the time. And we conversate about many things."
"Sure, if you say. I will believe that you can get that brute to talk." He said getting up and making his way to the door, "But like you said mother, I am the Lord of this house, if he wishes to court you, he shall need my permission, same for marriage." He said leaving his mother in a stupor.
He was teasing of course, however, he had never thought he would receive a letter from the man requesting an audience at dinner. Edward knew better than to refuse a request from the Duke. He felt tired just at the thought. But yet again this was his own doing, he had failed to keep his own mouth under reigns.
"This will be a long dine." He spoke to no one, when he received the letter, words that did not even begin to describe the dine. It was far worse. It made it impossible for him to sleep soundly, restless as he was. Then he had an idea. One he wished to share with his clique, but he could not execute with his mother still around. Luckly his talk with the Duke had gone better than it would normally have, they are set to leave for the north two morns from then. All that was standing in his way was his duties, that he had to take care of in those two days.
As such the young lad spent those days deep in his work. On his last day, the morning he said his goodbyes to his mother before sending her off, he wrote to his assembly that he shall host a party, they are all to attend. He was feeling quite bored as of late. He figured he owed himself a little fun as he has been rather well behaved.
Everything was prepared as to the young Lord's desire when the doors opened to welcome his honoured guests. All that was left was for Edward Miles Miller to have the most fun he has ever had.