Note :- In the Victorian era, it was considered indecent for a woman to show more than her hands and head, and wearing trousers and shirts was considered unacceptable for women because they resembled men.
**
The country town was covered in hills of snow.
He could barely listen to the morning birdsong among the people of his head, who were not defeated. Sleep had afflicted his eyes, and his mind would not submit to it.
Louis carelessly threw his towel on a seat by the door of his room, which he left with a grim face that heralded a miserable day ahead, eating away at his fingers in a feeble attempt to quell the anger that had flared and would not be extinguished for a moment during the night.
He was unable to find Albert anywhere in the house until he heard his loud voice through the open kitchen door, talking to Rushdan in the field, knowing that they were shoveling the snowy remains of the previous night from the nearly ripe trees
He barely had time to concentrate as he put the kettle on the stove for an early cup of tea that might save his head from the spasms of his unbearable headache. Perhaps he was overreacting and over-blaming Seqin after yesterday's incident, but he saw the right to avoid her out of concern for his pride regarding her moodiness.
He flinched. He heard a soft knock on the kitchen door, so he looked questioningly towards it and calmed down. She was standing there in the same French-style clothes, her hair gathered behind her head with her blue scarf, and the sun was hovering behind her, preventing him from seeing her bright smile.
"Good morning, Mr. Legrent."
To purse his lips in a frown. He was prepared to meet her with all the coldness and coldness she had done yesterday, but a soft groan escaped his throat as he quickly removed his bare hand from the hot kettle, cursing angrily under his breath.
As if he needed more embarrassment in front of her .
"Oh my God! Are you okay?" Her worried voice rang in his ears like an annoying echo as she quickly approached him. He barely moved his hand from her reach before he froze. He wasn't angry with her this time, but with himself and the raging anger that bubbled around her.
Perhaps Albert was right that he hadn't gained enough experience with women, despite his relationships.
"Here. Put it on your hand before it catches fire."
She held out a small towel she had tucked into the side of the water bowl toward his hand, about to wrap it carefully around his burn. He roughly moved his arm away, ignoring her mocking glare. "I don't need your help."
Although he couldn't wrap the towel properly around his injury
"And yet you don't survive without it," she said in the same sharp tone, tugging at his wrist forcefully to cover the burn on his hand tightly and frowning in shared annoyance as she sullenly let go of his arm.
"I came to get that letter anyway. It just arrived and Rashdan was busy getting it to you." She stated tersely, removing an envelope from her trouser pocket and leaving it on the counter before giving him a glassy look. "I'll wait for Albert in the office."
Louis maintained his determined gaze as she curved down the hallway into the study before sighing warmly, glancing down at his hand, bandaged with a wet towel that had soothed the burning sensation slightly, just as the fires in his chest were slowly dying down
He knew it wasn't noble of him to act this way towards her when she was trying to help him, but he was avenging his dignity, which had been hurt the night before. It was just a simple retaliation to satisfy his anger .
He picked up the letter she had just left, looking at the town stamp affixed to the envelope, along with the farm's address in recognizable handwriting. He hurriedly opened the envelope, reading Harold's few words, which offered little more than a request to get back quickly on a very important and private matter.
He tucked the letter into his pocket and turned to the kettle, carefully lifting it with his left hand. He knew that if it had been anything serious, his grandmother would have written to him, so Harold's mention of the words important and private meant he was certain it had something to do with a woman.
He propped his teacup with difficulty on his injured hand as he reluctantly made his way down the hallway, where the sound of pages turning grew louder every minute through the open door of the home's study
She was sitting there, looking absolutely beautiful. How could a woman be dressed like a man, holding a book no other woman would ever touch, sitting with such confidence that he had only ever seen her in the eyes of men, and yet manage to take his breath away without even trying?
He gathered his concentration with a heavy sigh as he stepped forward, leaving the second cup of tea on the table next to hers, to draw her eyes, which shone a captivating green with the sunlight refracting on them, towards him. He shook his head nervously.
"I thought you might like an early cup of tea."
She didn't give him an audible answer, but he could see the shadow of a faint smile on her lips as she slowly picked up the cup as a silent expression of her acceptance. He kissed his lips without adding anything and headed for one of the distant libraries
He was completely puzzled by her presence at such an early hour and her waiting for Albert at home instead of joining him in the field, but he didn't have the courage to ask, not in their current confusing situation .
"I was told you were angry with me." She spoke after a very short while. She didn't lift her eyes from her book, and he didn't turn his neck towards her. It was as if they had refrained from meeting their gazes for some time.
"Who told you?" Louis continued to feel around for the books, the titles of which he hadn't read a word, listening to a faint rustle that indicated she had put her book aside, followed by her soft, answering voice. "Albert."
As if he needed an answer.
Whether it was Albert or Rashdan, both had prepared for his angry outburst last night and vowed never to come into contact with her again. And now he was stuck in an incomprehensible conversation that she had dragged him into so smoothly. As usual.
"Well, my uncle likes to exaggerate sometimes. You didn't do anything to make me angry with you." He had no idea why he denied this fact. He had every right to be angry with her and treat her harshly. The one who started was the most unjust, and she was the one who started it
"Yes. I acted absolutely vile the last time we met. Forgive me." She apologized in a low but firm tone. His hand automatically stopped, and he finally dared to turn to meet her eyes across the room, stilling.
How childish he was.
"No. It's me who should be apologizing, Mrs. Pallum. I did just the same a moment ago." He shook his head with a heavy sigh, as if realizing the absurdity of his actions. He knelt on the seat opposite her, only to be answered by a genuinely charming smile this time. "I think we're even, then."
He nodded with a faint smile as he watched her set aside her teacup. Relieved, she crossed one leg over the other, making him swallow nervously. God, if his grandmother saw her sitting so confidently now, with her lower leg so shamelessly exposed, she would have been furious .
"Even though he said you'd decided never to speak to me again. That broke my heart, because I enjoy talking to you, Mr. Legrent." She gave him a gentle look that made him lose himself. He slowly shook his neck, his words flowing ever so softly. "So do I."
It was as if all his anger had evaporated and vanished with her first smile, as if his threat and resentment had left him completely at her first word, and he found nothing before him but a woman who had managed to capture his attention and immortality in just a few days.
It was as if she were a mermaid who had bewitched him with her promising eyes.
"So, is everything all right?" He blinked. His lost stare was interrupted by a question from which he did not understand a word, and he did nothing but frown in bewilderment. "What?"
"The letter. Is everything all right?"
"Yes, yes. It's from Harold, it's no big deal." He cut short. He didn't want to slip into a pointless conversation while he could decide his feelings for the woman in front of him at this moment while he contemplated every inch of her.
He had never been one to look for beauty somewhere, never a fan of staring at women, especially in a way that made him blush, but this woman in front of him didn't even give him a choice.
As if she had attracted him, making him lose himself in her folds unconsciously.
"Looks like Albert will be a little late." She spoke, interrupting his stare with her sudden rise. She seemed annoyed by his distraction, making him blush. He watched her head toward the office door, so he quickly addressed her in a tone that held her in place. "Are you leaving?"
For some strange, inward reason, he didn't want her to leave. "Yes. I was going to take a tour of the town after my talk with Albert, but since he'll be late, I'll go now. She walked over quietly, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on his, and smiled. Would you like to join me, Mr. Leverent ?"
Whatever this woman was trying to do to him, it worked. He had never agreed to anything so quickly or so eagerly. He was as puzzled by himself as he was by looking towards Sigin Balom, his emotions jumbled together in a strange, incomprehensible jumble.
What was he to do with such a woman in his dull life?
It was the equivalent of 10:30 in cold London.
The horses slowed down on the sidewalk as she took one last look at her man's watch, which she slipped into her handbag before slowly stepping out of the carriage.
"Be here at 1:00 p.m. sharp, Wilfrik. And tell Bertha not to forget Charlie's teacher, Mr. Heckle, is due at 1:30," Mrs. Wendy Marchiel dictated to her driver, who nodded understandingly as he closed the carriage door and took his seat, setting off on his way again
She breathed heavily, taking the small, indented steps toward her drapery and knitting shop, which had opened about half an hour earlier, as her assistant moved inside to set up for a new day's work.
"Good morning, Mrs. Marchiel." The teenager greeted her with a bright smile, which she returned with a forced one as she removed her coat, placing it next to her hollow gloves and bowler hat. "Good morning, Jacqueline. Has Mrs. Mary Shirley come to collect her dress?"
"Yes, ma'am. Her maid collected it just now."
Wendy nodded silently, scanning the mannequins and the fabrics folded and rolled in corners until her eyes were fixed on a package that, despite its exquisite familiarity, was at odds with every other item in the place
Her fingers touched the bouquet of white roses that sat on one of the side tables, carefully selected and aware of the captivating scent that clung to her lake. "Jacqueline, what is this?"
It certainly wasn't normal for a bouquet of flowers to be in her shop. It wasn't normal at all.
"The shopboy next door brought it, ma'am. He said he was commissioned by a gentleman, and he left a note with it, too."
Wendy raised her hand for the note, already weaving a cognitive vision of the gentleman's identity. Her jaw tightened curtly, and Jacqueline no sooner had the desired object in her fist than she parted it with a sharp frown.
It wasn't much of a letter, more like a hastily scribbled note, but he didn't fail to add a line of flirting that would have swayed any other heart but hers.
"My dearest, unknown Lady Marchale, Siren of the Land. How wonderful it is to begin your morning with me!
Please send me what I have in you next time. No one can live without their heart.
Have a lovely morning.
-Harold Sigrid."
Wendy wiped her forehead in irritation, glancing at the honeyed letter now, and the beautifully arranged bouquet now, before crumpling the first in her fist and sliding the second toward the trash can without regret.
He wanted to fool around, but he chose the wrong woman to fool around with. She had more things in her life to distract her from a disreputable, carefree lord.
The fresh morning breezes hit him. The rural town was professionally drawn like a green space that embraced fields of roses and fruits in its heart, so that the fragrance would float in the air, creating a pure morning atmosphere that healed the chest of all worries .
Ilgan hadn't changed much from how Louis remembered it years ago. The old houses were still encircled by their simply painted pickets, surrounded by the vast grassy ground with traces of snow, a beautiful painting of unspoiled nature.
Yet, as much as he loved every inch of the place, his companion on that quiet walk was an excellent distraction that successfully captured his attention. He followed her out of the corner of his eye to see her paying attention to everything but him, which made him irritated.
Perhaps she was angry at his staring, but didn't express any objection? Worried.
She had previously asked him not to stare at her for so long, and perhaps she didn't want to repeat the request this time. What an idiot.
He pursed his lips decisively and cut her off abruptly.
"I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry."
He watched her eyebrows knit gently, and she shook her head questioningly. "Why are you apologizing?"
"For staring at you for so long a moment ago was impolite. I never meant to upset you, please forgive me." He was insistent in his apology, as if desperately begging for her forgiveness, only to be wooed back by a sweet smile. "It's okay, Mr. Leverent. But you must never do that to any woman again."
"Why? I thought women liked to be looked at by men." Without the slightest awareness of what he was saying, he admitted with utter bewilderment. Siqin looked completely taken aback by his completely spontaneous statement, before raising her lips in a thin smile.
"You really have no experience with how to talk to a woman."
She walked past him with silent steps that struck his heart like a wild echo. His mistakes, which made him look like an idiot, continued to embarrass him tirelessly, and he didn't even think about the words before uttering them with such confidence
He grimaced in self-importance before quickly following her lead, hoping to fix what he'd ruined in his previous statement. "I'm sorry, again. I didn't think of that before I said it."
"Looks like our conversation will just be a bunch of apologies, Mr. Legrent." She evaded him, letting him smile broadly, relieved that she wasn't angry with him after something he'd said that was so silly. He was often wrong, and she was forgiving.
They had reached a stream whose banks were lined with delicate white dandelions that swayed in the wind and flew freely to the sky with the melodies of the picturesque nature and a charming blonde woman. Louis was fascinated.
He wasn't surprised when she knelt, running her fingers softly between its drooping stems beneath his drunken gaze. She didn't look like an alien being, but rather as if she belonged there. Among the white flowers and the gentle manifestations of nature, as if she were its nymph
"Why don't you sit down, Mr. Legrent?" She looked at him with a relaxed face that brought him out of his musings, and he hesitated. It wasn't appropriate to sit alone with a woman in a deserted place either. But they weren't in the city, so there was no harm in doing so as long as no one would know.
Right?
When he prostrated himself on the bank of the creek, the rose nectar flooded his senses, and he relaxed beside her, watching her pluck a dandelion while she stretched out her feet, softly caressing the stream.
"What did you study in France, Mr. Legrent?" She kept dragging him into pleasant chatter, which he was grateful for. If he had delegated it, he wouldn't have succeeded in starting a conversation that lasted even a few minutes. She really loved talking, unlike him.
"Geometry. Like all the family." He answered in a measured tone, concealing a thin thread of bitterness deep within as he sighed, following the movement of her toes as they played coquettishly with the small waves of the stream .
"I've never read about geometry," Sikin commented, playing with the delicate petals of the rose, her eyes slanting to finally meet his, and smiled. "Perhaps you'll make me read about it one day."
She scattered the petals with a gentle puff so that the wind would fly freely and gently. I watched her with pleasure that overwhelmed her eyes, which contemplated their smile with extreme calm and awe-filled distraction that was only freed from her continuing the conversation.
"I spent several months in France," the blonde woman informed, placing the rose stem on the surface of the water so that she could swim enamoredly. "My third husband was a French painter. We stayed there until he died and I returned to London again."
"It must have been difficult for you to face the deaths of your husbands in such a short period of time. It must have been a difficult period," he commented lamentably. He was surprised at himself; sympathizing with a woman he'd first heard was considered unlucky.
He was amazed that she'd succeeded in changing his view of her.
"You've made it through the worst." was all she said, to his amazement. What could be harder than losing five husbands in just five years? What pain could possibly outweigh the pain of losing one of them forever?
She was a strange woman.
"Did you study engineering by choice?" she asked him suddenly, her full attention on him, which confused him. No one had asked him whether his field of study was a choice or a decision; everyone treated it as a sacred tradition for the entire family.
And there was no room for dissent
"Maybe. It was an interesting field, but if he had been given the lead, I might have chosen something else. I'll never know." He spoke honestly, not wanting to mince words. It was the perfect opportunity to share a thought he had never expressed with such an extraordinary woman .
He didn't have a choice. Rather, he was walking a path mapped out for him before he even walked it.
Sigin nodded in understanding and leaned back on both hands in comfort. "If I were a man, I would take this opportunity to learn what I truly desire, no matter what it costs me."
"Everyone has their own choices in life. It's not about gender." He admitted in confusion, a faint smile glimmering a vaguely sad shadow above her lips for a moment, as she leaned toward him gently. "Trust me, not everyone."
He didn't respond.
She was like a locked box he couldn't look inside. Too many mysteries, too many secrets. And the more he tried to understand her, the more he discovered he wasn't even close
"We had better go back now," she asked after a moment of silence punctuated by the chirping of birds and the rustle of drooping rose stalks. He nodded, his lips curling as he looked into her still face, as if she had suddenly become frustrated without warning.
He straightened his feet, extending his hand for her to take with the softness of his shiver, and she stood on her heels beside him. He hated that the balance of their situation had been tipped so far back, and he worried that something he had said had upset her again.
He didn't dare say a word as they walked back to Albert's estate, contenting himself with glancing at her every now and then.
The orange and lemon fields near the cherry orchard were abuzz with activity, with ornaments hanging cheerfully around the trees, to his surprise
"Looks like there's going to be some kind of party soon," he concluded, making Sigin turn her neck toward the decorated countryside and nod in agreement. "Looks like preparations for some kind of wedding."
Louis smiled. He was pleased with her interaction despite her distraction .
"When will you be leaving Ilgan, Mr. Legrent?"
"In two nights. Although I'd love to never leave. It's so relaxing here." He breathed deeply. Only two days separated him from returning to the city, with its gloom and worries that would once again weigh him down. How depressing it was to remember.
"Yes." Sigin agreed with a gentle hum, before stopping at the edge of the nearby cherry field, looking at Zarqaoui with a sweet smile that caught his eye.
"I must tell you, Mr. Legrent, it has been a wonderful opportunity to get to know such a gentleman as you these past few days."
Louis's eyes melted as he softened at his small, sideways smile as he gently took her hand, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss on the back of it, nodding his head nobly
"Same feeling, Mrs. Palom." He replied sincerely. Wow! How quickly his feelings changed overnight.
"Hello, love couple!" Albert greeted them with his mischievous smile, causing Louis to roll his eyes in embarrassment while Sigin laughed and forgot the weather with a gentle feminine air.
"So, how was your outing?"
"It was pretty good, actually." Sigin confirmed with a bright look, which earned Albert a smile while Louis was distracted by the country farmer who stood nearby talking to Rashdan, carrying the wooden ladder over his shoulder and a basket full of cherries in his other hand.
"What's going on?"
He gestured questioningly at them, causing Albert to sigh heavily, wiping his forehead in exhaustion. "This is Walter Marvin, a lemon farmer. His eldest daughter's wedding is tomorrow, and he asked to borrow the ladder so he can finish decorating the farm."
"Yes, we saw the preparations on our way."
The two men and the blonde woman watched as the farmer shook Rashdan's hand gratefully before he headed toward them with a cheerful smile that lit up his broad, bearded face.
"Mr. Legrent, what a wonderful surprise to have you back!" the country man cheered happily, at which Louis smiled politely. "Thank you, Mr. Marin. Congratulations on your daughter's marriage."
"Thank you, sir. I'll look forward to your arrival tomorrow."
Louis nodded knowingly, and the man turned his eyes to Siguin and half-bowed to her. "Welcome, Mrs. Palom. I was afraid you might leave before the wedding. Your presence will bring joy to my daughter Isabel."
"It is my pleasure, Mr. Marvin."
The man looked happy as he thanked Albert one last time before bidding them farewell. The sun was high in the sky, casting its weak golden rays across the relaxed bodies.
"Are you really coming to the wedding?" Louie inquired at the end of their walk down the hill toward her house, where they paused in front of the open doorway. She laced her fingers together and gave him a half-scratched eye. "Are you coming?"
"I guess so. I've never been to a country wedding before."
"We'll meet there, then." She smiled back with a double shake of the head as he slowly stepped back from the doorway, curtsying toward her with a smile. "Have a nice day, Mrs. Palum."
"It is, Mr. Legrent."
His ears expanded with gentleness, and his smile broadened with joy, as he sent her one last warm glance before turning back, listening to the echo of his whispering heart, which was stirred by a passionate sperm that she had gently placed inside it.
What a wondrous woman she had intoxicated his passionate mind .
**
White dandelions - also known as wishing flowers, where a person says their wish and then scatters the petals in the air .
••