Chapter Text
Gentleman, about thirty-five years of age, seeks wife to join him in Massachusetts. Has one son and is of good family and fortune. Is able to sustain wife comfortably. Wishes for a woman between twenty-five and thirty-five years of age, well-educated, and suited to being a mother. Ready to marry immediately. Respond to 547 Jerome St. Boston, Massachusetts.
The drive was a short one, but one I very much enjoyed. Our plantation spanned over close to seven hundred acres of land, with many miles of dirt roads threading through it, but today I was riding on the one that led to a small cottage on the West side of our plantation; the new home of my sister, Celeste, and her husband, Asa. I was accompanied by my mother, as this would be our first time seeing my sister's new living arrangements. Asa had come to live on our plantation as an indentured servant to our overseer, and after finishing his obligations had decided to stay on as the master of our stables. A few months ago, my sister had announced that she loved this rugged and quiet man whom we had seen every day for so long. They had wed last week, and, now, we were going to call on Celeste for the first time.
"The drawing room is much smaller than that of the manor, but I'm sure I shall not do much entertaining of my own. They would be better off staying at the big house." Celeste smiled shyly as she showed us into the modest-sized room and stepped aside that we may inspect it. Our mother was the first one to step forward, looking closely at each image that decorated the wallpaper-clad walls, running her gloved fingers over the chairs and small sofa.
"You have a beautiful home, Celeste," I offered, smiling at my sister as I gently rested my hand on her arm. Celeste answered with a grateful look.
"Well," Mother said quickly, turning towards us. "As you said, you shall do all of your entertaining at the manor." She tried to smile, though it did not soften the blow of not accepting her daughter's living arrangements. Celeste nodded simply and did not reply.
"I am dying to see your gardens," I told her in a cheerful tone. "Come, show me." I threaded my arm through hers and she led me out into the blissful sunshine where she showed me the plot of land she had set aside to grow the same flowers we grew up at the big house. Celeste had ordered our servants bring a few of the blossoms down to fill her humble garden. It really was lovely and I stooped down to take in the scent of the orchids, asters, and bellflowers.
"Asa promised that we would get some roses to grow up against the house. I'd like to add some color to the stone walls." Celeste ran her fingers over one of the stones.
"That would make for a pretty picture." I threaded my arm back through hers as we started to stroll across the small piece of land that now belonged to Celeste and her husband. Mother had decided to take this moment to suggest some improvements in the running of the household to the single servant my sister kept. "I know that your home is not what you are used to, Celeste, but I can see that you are happy with Asa, and I could not wish for anything better for you."
"No, you could not." And Celeste smiled. "I am happy. I hope you are too." Her tone suddenly changed to a playful one. "What of Boramir? You know that mother and father would approve of that match."
"And since they did not wholly approve of your match, you wish them to approve of mine?" I smiled as I spoke.
"It would help, Trina." My dear sister could not lie, and it was indeed the truth. My mother and father were taken aback when my sister announced that she had fallen in love with the man who ran our stables, but after telling us stories all our lives of how we would one day marry the man we had always dreamed of, they could not refuse her choice, even though they very much wished to. It had now fallen to me, the second-born daughter, to make them happy with my marriage.
I found him laying listlessly in the hammock that had been hung between the bows of the great Oak tree that we had played in as children. "Harrison." I stated the name resolutely.
"Hello, Trina." He pulled himself up enough to grin and nod his head at me, then he relaxed back onto the rough fabric. "Were you looking for me?"
"I wish to speak to you about something."
"Does it require me to end my relaxing in this hammock?"
"Can you pay attention while laying there?" I asked with an uncertain tone.
He thought for a moment, then answered, "I may fall asleep," before pulling himself to his feet, only to sit down on the ground and relax against the trunk of the large tree. He motioned for me to join him and I hesitated a moment before slowly lowering myself and my many layers of skirts to the ground. I flattened the fabric around me before turning to my younger brother.
"I have written a letter."
"Oh?" Harrison didn't sound remotely interested as he picked a dandelion and amused himself with blowing its seeds to the wind.
"I read an advertisement in the New York paper that you brought me yesterday and decided to reply."
"Are you taking a job in New York?" He looked at me with a rather shocked expression.
"No...the advertisement was from a man looking for a wife."
"A wife?" Harrison immediately sat up straighter, the stem of the dandelion dropping from his fingers. "You answered an advertisement from a stranger looking for a wife?"
"I have not yet sent the letter."
"And is he from New York, then?"
"Boston."
"And you wish to marry him?" The confusion was heavy in Harrison's voice. "What did the advertisement say? What could possibly compel you to want to do this?"
"He's thirty-five...says he's of good family...good fortune." As I spoke, my voice began to tremble. "He has a son...and he's ready to marry immediately."
"A widower then? Trina, what's going on?"
"You know I've always wished very much to visit the North-"
"But to marry a complete stranger just to see it?" Each word that my brother spoke brought another pang of uncertainty to my mind. I had hoped my brother would encourage me that this was the right action to pursue. Instead, he was changing my mind completely. I took a deep breath, trying to put into words exactly why I had written the letter.
"I have lived all my life on this beautiful plantation. I love the South, I love what we stand for, but...here, we are married off to men of fortune so our family can gain their wealth. We are traded for titles or connections. When I read that advertisement in the paper, suddenly, all I wanted was the life this man could offer." As I spoke, my voice gained excitement. "He doesn't want me for my money or my family, Harrison."
"He wants you as a mother and a wife, Trina. This is not a soft man who wants someone to dote on." He spoke darkly. "He's a Northerner. You know what they are like. He will use you just as much as any Southern man who would marry you for your fortune."
"But he doesn't care who I am." My voice was now pleading, as if I was begging him for his approval.
"You and your silly fantasies." Harrison let out an exasperated sigh as he got to his feet and brushed himself off.
"He may not even reply!" I struggled to get to my feet, caught in the bulk of fabric that covered my hoop skirt. "It's just a chance, Harrison." I caught his arm, pulling him to look at me. "One chance. One I feel I ought to try."
"Send the letter then," Harrison had resumed his air of apathy. "And hope that he doesn't reply. Perhaps that will satisfy you." He pulled away from me and headed towards the house. I couldn't blame his attitude. I didn't know what I was doing. I had penned the letter hastily after reading the advertisement. I simply wanted to know more about this mysterious man who lived in a world so different from my own.
"Trina and Boramir. Doesn't it just sound right?" My mother was crooning over my name coupled with that of Mr. Boromir as she wrote them side-by-side.
"Mother, nothing about it is settled," I reminded her gently.
"But it will be." She looked over at where I sat before the mirror, having my hair done. "Your father plans to speak to Mr. Boromir this very day."
"We do not know if he will have me, mother." I reached up and tucked a few of my stray hairs away.
"Not have you? Why would you speak like that, Trina?" She spoke in a surprised tone, though she shouldn't have. I was never one for optimism.
"Mr. Boromir should make up his own mind who he wishes to marry, momma." I turned towards her sharply, causing my hairdresser to poke my head with one of her pins. "He should not be asked to marry someone's daughter."
"We are not asking him to do us a favor, dear!" My mother's tone switched to a soothing one as she stood and approached me, though I knew she felt offended. "We are offering your hand for a betterment for both parties." I turned back to the mirror and she gently laid her hand on my shoulder. "Do you not wish to marry Mr. Boromir?"
"I do not know," I said softly.
"I don't wish to see you unhappy, my dear, but you must think reasonably. I just can't..." she spoke slower now. "I can't have you end up like your sister...marrying a stable hand like that."
"Celeste is happy, mother!"
"But at what cost to her family?" Momma rested her hand on her chest as she took a deep breath. "I'm glad that she married a man she could love...but you know her marriage was not one your father and I felt was best."
"I know." I had heard it all before.
"Well," She sighed then let out a light laugh. "I'm going to wear down my nerves with talk like this. I will let you finish getting ready in peace." She left my room, leaving me and my servant alone.
"Simbelmyne, please call for Grima."
"Yes, ma'am." She curtseyed, then went off to follow my orders. I leaned forward and opened the drawer before me and drew out the letter that I had carefully penned early this morning. I took a deep breath as I stared down at it. It was a huge risk sending it away, but I was determined. I was not running from the life that I had, but I was interested in life elsewhere. An arranged marriage with Boramir would not bring me much unhappiness...but I did not wish to marry like that. Grima, our butler, entered the room and gave a low bow before approaching me.
"Miss Trina, what may I do for you?" His green eyes examined me closely as he ran his hands over each other.
"Post this letter, Grima."
"Right away." He took the letter from my out-stretched hand then turned to go.
"And Grima," At my voice, he paused and turned around again. "Please don't mention this to anybody. Be as discreet as you can. And if any letters come for me in the next few weeks, please be discreet with them as well."
"Of course, my lady." He gave another bow, then was gone just as Simbelmyne returned. And it was done. The letter was posted; the advertisement answered.