Arabella

My life had always been simple. Growing up with a mother and a father in a busy farm house, our way of life was to be up at first light to feed the hens, muck the horses, milk the cows and round up the sheep. As a child I thought it would be all I would ever know. It was hard work; everyday seemed to be the same repeated over and over again. I wasn’t popular and my family didn’t have much money to spare like all of the other children, but I just knew that one day something good would come into my life and I would find my own personal greatness and the real reason for my existence. I knew that reason would not be to follow in my father’s footsteps and grow up to be the greatest farmer that ever lived; I was more ambitious than that, even for a boy of twelve.

On a bright, hot summer’s day my reason appeared. Just across the lake stood the magnificent Hawthorne House, with acre upon acre of the finest British soil. My father always said that the soil was wasted on the rich and he liked to imagine the kind of farm he could have there. Of course we could never afford land like that.

Hawthorne House was grand and stood right in the centre; you could see the fine red and gold draped curtains hanging from the windows if you sneaked close enough. I would go and snoop around the grounds often when I had finished my duties on the farm. Ever since the last family who lived there had moved away it became easier to get a closer look. I liked to imagine myself living there when I got older. I pictured myself as a rich man with no cares in the world, dressed in the latest fashions and expensive materials. I liked to imagine what the house looked like from the inside. I imagined tall gold candle sticks, silk drapes, red velvet carpets and marble floors, gold bannisters and the finest wooden furnishings that money could buy. I saw inspiring and majestic pieces of art hanging on the walls, valued for lots of pounds and sparkling jewels in the ornaments and lamps. I pictured a huge dance hall and a banquet table with a hundred chairs to entertain guests. I imagined grand balls with a piano and the finest musicians, and ladies wearing expensive jewellery and fine dresses. I would close my eyes and lay back in the grass near the lake gazing towards the clouds picturing a beauty beyond comprehension, the beauty that when I grew up I would marry. Sometimes it felt real but then I would be pulled back to reality when I awoke from my dream.

Hawthorne House had been abandoned for a while; I never expected anyone else to move in anytime soon and I knew it was against the rules to break into other people’s homes. But no one lived there so I didn’t think it mattered. I was only twelve years old and, although my father had taught me right from wrong, I just couldn’t seem to help myself. I had to know what it felt like to be inside such a fine home. I guessed I would never have a home like this and live on the farm forever, but if I didn’t look inside then I would never know.

I could hear my mother shouting me from across the lake but that didn’t stop me as I picked up a stone from the ground and thrust it through a window round the back of the stately home. The minute the stone hit the glass I pulled myself inside. I had only just got through the window into a large servants’ kitchen when I heard the sound of horses galloping outside. I fumbled around, wondering whether to run or if I would be shot down for it. It was well known around these parts that if you trespassed on someone else’s property you would be shot down in cold blood. I instantly knew I’d made the wrong decision when I jumped back out through the window and ran as fast as I could towards the lake. At first I didn’t think anyone had seen me, but then I heard galloping and a voice behind me as a hand grabbed the back of my shirt. I tried to wriggle free but his grip became tighter.

‘Hold up, boy, what do you think you are doing on my property?’ said the man.

‘I’m sorry, sir, I swear I didn’t know anyone lived here. Please, sir, let me go.’

‘Not until your father knows what you are, boy.’

‘So you’re not going to kill me, sir?’ I asked.

‘Kill you? Why in the world would I kill you, boy?’

‘That’s how it is round here, sir.’

He looked down at me with a confused look about his face.

‘Ah I see, well be off with you, boy, and I never want to see you on my grounds again.’

‘Yes, sir, thank you, sir.’

With that he began to walk me off the grounds.

‘Where do you live, boy?’

I suspected he was curious where I had come from and wanted to know if I lived locally.

‘In town, sir,’ I lied.

I wanted to tell him my name so he would stop calling me boy but I knew that was a bad idea. If my father knew what I was up to he would whip me. Although my father was poor he had a level of respect amongst the people here and what I had done would only bring shame to our family name. I knew I shouldn’t have broken in in the first place but I just wanted to know how it felt to live somewhere like that, to be rich and enjoy the finer things in life: the things I would never have.

As we walked through the gravel we passed a magnificent gold carriage. A woman came out dressed in purple and white.

‘What is this?’ she asked.

‘Just some silly boy playing on our land, Lavinia, not to worry; I’m escorting him to the gate, he won’t be back again.’

She looked at me like I’d stolen something and even though I felt the need to defend myself I knew I shouldn’t as they were not my class of people. To them I was just some dumb boy who didn’t know any better, but if only they knew me they would know that wasn’t true.

I glanced over at the carriage again upon hearing a shuffle from inside. I looked over at the nearest window to see the face of a girl. The girl looked around my age; she had long golden blond hair that hung in curls, pale skin and the bluest eyes I had ever seen. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever encountered.

‘Arabella, get back inside,’ her mother called.

She looked over in my direction, a smile forming on her rosy red lips before she pulled back inside the carriage.

As I was escorted from the estate making my way back home, I knew I had just found my reason to grow into the man I had always dreamed of.

Chapter Two: Arabella

When Papa announced we were to move to the countryside, I felt a sudden sense of attachment to my familiar surroundings. I had grown up in the city of London in a rather large town house, although it was more like a palace if you asked me. We had a staff of twenty which included house maids, footmen, a butler and three cooks. To be ripped away from all of the high class friends I had made at the age of twelve, and being forced to live in the countryside was one of the worst things that could happen. I loved my father very much and everything that he did for our family made us love him all the more, but this was not one of those moments.

‘Papa, Papa, do we really have to go?’

‘Arabella, darling, if your father says it is a good idea, then it is a good idea,’ my mother responded, in my father’s defence.

‘But, Papa, what about my friends? I shall never see them again; I shall never attend a ball.’

‘Arabella, will you do as you are told,’ my mother shouted.

‘You will make more friends, my dear, better friends, and there will be balls in Derbyshire, you have my word,’ said my father.

My father’s word meant a lot, as he was well known around town to never go back on anything he had said. When he said something he meant it.

‘Really, Papa, better friends, I cannot image so. I cannot wait until my first ball.’

I dreamed of the way the ball room would look, complete with gold trimmings and me with my golden blond curls pinned up, wearing a beautiful blue dress.

‘You have a long time before you need to worry about balls, my dear,’ father responded.

‘I will be the most beautiful girl in all of Derbyshire.’

‘Yes, my dear, and you will break all of their hearts,’ my father laughed.

‘Arabella, will you stop this silliness at once and prepare yourself for the journey. It will be a while until we arrive in Derbyshire,’ my mother announced.

My father had made all of the necessary arrangements for our move months ago, so that we would move to the large estate in the countryside with ease. Everyone seemed to be pleased that they were leaving London behind, except for me. I had many friends in London, whom I could not imagine to be parted from. But as I was still a child, I had very little choice in the matter. Yet after my father kindly stated that I would be the most beautiful girl in all of Derbyshire, I changed my mind and decided that maybe a move to the countryside would not be so bad after all.

‘Papa, I think I shall like the countryside very much.’

Our remaining belongings were put in place for the journey, as we prepared to set off. My mother threw a shawl around my shoulders and pulled my summer hat in place, ready to leave our old life behind. My father laughed as my mother tugged my arms, pulling me outside, before sitting me in the carriage.

‘Now wait there and stop this nonsense,’ my mother said before taking one last look back at the house. As the carriage made its way through London, a few of my greatest friends stood by the road ready to bid me farewell. Their waves faded into the distance as we left London.

I saw many sights on my arrival into Derbyshire, but more than anything the place seemed to be filled with animals enclosed in fences and stone walls. My mother explained that they were farms run by the people that I should never talk to, as they weren’t of our class.

The scenery was very different from our old home in the city. Cities are full of buildings but the country was just full of grass and trees. I didn’t understand how I was to love such a place, but I trusted Papa knew best. People always described my father as an honest man, so I knew he would always be right, and he was my father after all.

When the carriage began to turn onto our new grounds, the horses jerked, as if they could sense a danger of some kind. It wasn’t long before my father jumped out of the carriage and ran around the back of the house. As we waited for Papa to return, my mother told me that this would be our new home.

‘But it is so big,’ I responded in excitement.

‘That it is, Arabella, it is called Hawthorne House.’

‘Will Alexander be coming to live with us?’ I asked my mother.

‘Yes just as soon as his time at school is over.’

Alexander was my older brother. Papa had sent him away to school for a few years, with the hope that he might learn something new and come back more refined, as Papa had put it. Alexander was an adventurer; he loved to play in the dirt and disobey Papa. Papa called him a disobedient child before he was sent away. I missed my brother greatly, but the housemaids did not miss his filthy garments.

On sight of my father, my mother got out of the carriage. I could hear them talking outside. I decided to peak my head out of the carriage window but I did not go unnoticed, as I saw him. A boy just standing there staring back at me. He was covered in dirt from head to toe. I smiled as I could only imagine what he had been up to. My mother shouted at me for being nosy. The boy turned back and looked again as my father escorted him from our land. And in that moment I knew I was going to like it here.

Chapter Three: Larson

When I returned home, I was met with a hand to my head.

‘Where do you think you’ve been?’ my mother yelled, as I almost lost my balance.

‘If your father knew you had been out all this time,’ she continued as I dodged her hand again, her fingertips grazing my skin.

‘I’m sorry, Ma, today I saw an angel, her name is Arabella and she is the most beautiful girl in all the lands,’ I announced.

‘Sounds like someone’s been playing in fantasy land for too long today,’ my mother laughed.

My father burst through the door with a worried look on his face.

‘Lewis where have you been, son’? My father asked.

‘Just out and about, Sir.’

‘Oh is that right?’

‘He’s been in fantasy land again,’ said my mother.

‘Guess again, he’s been to Hawthorne House over the lake again, haven’t you son?’

‘How did you know, Sir?’ I asked.

‘Never you mind how I know, I have eyes and ears everywhere son, and don’t you forget that.’

‘I’m sorry, Sir.’

‘How many times do I have to tell you not to go there, they’d lock you up, or even worse if you were caught,’ my mother said biting her lip in anger.

‘As a matter of fact, love, he was caught, by the new owner too, isn’t that right, son?’

I gulped hard wondering how my father could have known.

‘It won’t happen again, Sir, I promise,’ I responded, although I didn’t know if I could keep that promise.’

‘Damn right it won’t happen again, now get some supper and off to bed with you, we have work to do on the farm in the morning.’

‘Alright, Sir,’ I said before fetching myself a bowl of stew.

The next day after working on the farm I ventured down to the lake. The moment I got there I saw her, sitting across the lake, in a pastel pink dress, with her beautiful golden blond ringlets. I wanted to cross the lake and talk to her. She glanced over in my direction and although no words were exchanged at that moment in time, I knew Arabella was the girl I would marry.

Days and weeks passed by without seeing her again. She was locked away like