Cecilia:

The heavy breathing of my father penetrated through the silent house as I crept towards the foot of the main staircase. Carefully I tried to make my way to my room silently, hoping he was asleep and wouldn't hear me.

I delicately made my way up the stairs avoiding the areas I knew to be squeaky when I lost my balance and stepped on the one step I had been seeking to circumvent. I winced as the wooden board shrieked beneath my slipper.

I muttered a curse under my breath as I heard my father's gruff voice call me from the bottom of the staircase.

"And where do you think you're going child?" There was something different about the way he spoke, his voice held the harshness it had always possessed but something was missing, what exactly though I couldn't quite put my finger on.

I retreated down the steps, I had long ago learnt not to disobey my father; he would always find me and the punishments would be more severe for disobedience. I stood before my father at the bottom of the steps, my head bowed, silently praying for an escape.

"I have some news to inform you of," I barely acknowledged the words, my body tense and braced. Then it suddenly clicked, his words weren't slurred and my nostrils weren't filled with the smell of sweat and spirits. My head snapped up, he wasn't drunk. For the first time in years my father was home and sober.

Maybe this news whatever it was had been good news and he had seen the wrong in his actions and decided to change his ways? I almost laughed as soon as the thought appeared in my head, of course he wouldn't change, it was stupid of me to think so naively. I had lost my father long ago nothing would change that now.

My naivety was confirmed as I felt a fat hand grab my wrist painfully, jerking me forward.

"Now then, we can do this calmly and nicely, or we can do it not so nicely, do I make myself clear?" I nodded, my eyes still refusing to meet his. His hand loosened on my arm and I breathed a sigh of relief.

"You are going to make us rich my dearest daughter." His words took me off guard, rich? I was baffled, how was I supposed to make us rich? I had no job, and even if I had, it would hardly make us rich?

Instead of voicing my questions however I just kept my head down and nodded my head again in submission. "You should feel very grateful after I have gone to such efforts to preserve our good name and, to show your gratitude, I expect you to do everything I tell you to under your new position."

Position? What job could I possibly claim to provide us with the riches he alluded to? Keeping silent I simply nodded my head once more, maybe tonight I would go to bed unscathed, maybe I could just go along with what he said?

He continued, "You may be wondering how exactly you are going to make us rich, well my dear, you are to be married."

Married? The word repeated itself in my head on loop. I was to be married? No, I would not enter into a loveless marriage, I had sworn it to myself. I would not risk being controlled by a man I did not know. A small voice in the back of my head nagged at me though, this was my way out, the escape I had been searching for.

Surely nobody could be as bad as the man standing before me? I let out a shaky breath as the full weight of the situation bore down on me, I managed to say one more word, in a hoarse voice I asked, "Who?" My father looked down at me and a greedy smile played on his lips, twisting one side up higher than the other.

"The Duke of Wotley's eldest son." I froze, the Huntington family were well known to all as a powerful family with connections in high places, some even said they had met King George himself, and their large estate in the neighbouring town was renowned for its open grandeur.

They were an old family and had a son and a daughter, a son I knew all too well, Rory. I sucked in a sharp breath, I was being married off to Rory. My arch nemesis, the boy who'd called me names and picked on me since childhood, the boy whose words stung me most, the boy who hated me and who I in return despised.

I didn't bother to ask my father why, I wouldn't give him the satisfaction, instead I nodded my head and asked, "Do you have anything else you wish to tell me father?"

A sadistic smile plastered itself across his face at my easy compliance, his eyes gleamed brighter than before, "Good girl, I knew you wouldn't complain, that is all," he lowered his voice and murmured two words that sent shivers down my back, "For now."

The words were so quietly spoken they were almost inaudible, but in the stillness of the bleak manor I heard him. My skin prickled at the ominous foreboding in those two syllables, what would he demand of me next? Dreading what ulterior plan my devious father had devised for me, I turned and scurried out of the room, up the main staircase and into my bedchamber.

I closed the door and leant against the hard wood, calming my breathing. My eyes swept over the familiar room memorising every corner. The large ebony four poster bed that stood in the centre dominated the dusty room, it was adorned with dark blue velvet curtains that hung down to the floor and although the material was now old and faded it still held strong and proud against the dark mahogany. A few old suitcases pushed under the bed held my small wardrobe of clothes and a few of my prized possessions.

A dirty oil lamp stood on a makeshift bedside table next to my bed along with a pile of books, in the corner of the room by the large bay window stood my easel.

My easel was one of my favourite pieces, from its position you could see the Forest of Obern, the small river that run along the edge of our park and the unkempt gardens to the side of the house. At the edge of the estate you could see the walled garden that was fit to bursting with plants, old and new.

The walled garden had always been a safe haven to me, with its large apple tree wrapped in ivy and overgrown pathways and benches placed inconsistently around the garden, there was also a small pond where fishes used to frolic in the hey days of the estate that, with time, had become little more than a small mass of floating algae.

Father's excessive gambling and drinking had exhausted most of the funds of the manor although few were privy to this knowledge. All but two members of staff had been dismissed, the old butler and housekeeper remained having lived in the big house their whole lives. They were aware of their master's temper and his violence but they were too afraid to stop him, instead they pretended they had no knowledge of my father's cruel habits.

I moved my gaze from the window and the gardens beyond, sighing as I did so, I would miss the unruly beauty of this place. I wondered what Rory's grounds were like, come to think of it, I had never seen his estate at all. I guess that had come as a result of our mutual hatred, if I could I would never see him but he was friends with the others so I had little say in the matter.

As I thought of my friends I wondered how I would break the news to our friends, or maybe Rory had already told them? I couldn't be sure Rory knew at all of the arrangement yet myself, I would have to assume for now that he did.

I almost felt sorry for Rory, my father had obviously schemed his way into creating this marriage and I knew he would dislike it just as much as I would. Before I could feel any pity towards him though, my mind was filled with memories of him, throwing hurtful words at me like spears.

I replayed all our conversations in my head, I begged my mind to stop the torture of reliving every painful moment spent with him but instead the voices just rotated around my head, building up, growing louder until my head began to throb.

I tried to focus on the dull pain in my head rather than the spiteful words spinning through my brain. I felt his unfeeling remarks lash out at the walls encasing my overworked mind. I felt them crumble suddenly, the weight too much to bear. The monsters began to ebb upwards to join the spiral of negativity spilling free and consuming me. I stumbled over to my bed, pulled the velvet curtains around the mahogany carcass to shield myself from the outside world, and let the tears spill freely down my pale cheeks.

My eyes felt raw and stung from my bout of crying but I didn't bother to go to the washroom adjoining my room, I knew I would be greeted by the familiar sight; blotchy, red face and weak, broken eyes.

Instead, I pulled off my dress and crawled under my bed covers, bringing my legs up to my chest and wrapping my arms around my tired body. I snuggled into the old pillow, feathers spilling out from the broken seams, and willed sleep to claim me.

**********

I awoke early to the familiar sound of birdsong outside my window. I sleepily stretched my body beneath the covers and crawled out of my bed, not wanting to lose the warmth but pressing myself to get up. I opened one of the trunks under my bed, it smelt slightly damp but I ignored it and pulled out a grey smock. The dress was plain like most of my dresses but it was practical, besides, it wasn't as if I could afford the luxuries of pretty dresses that most girls pined over anyway.

I washed my face with the pitcher of water that sat on the chair in my bathroom, pulled my hair into a braid that hung down over my shoulder and eased my feet into an ill-fitting pair of dark slippers before considering the best way to leave the house undetected.

There was the main staircase but that was especially risky as I would have to walk past my father's bedchamber. I could opt for the the old servants' staircase but that was less than safe as it had not been looked after for years and the structure was quite unpredictable. No neither the main stairs nor the servants' stairs would work, I would have to resort to the magnolia tree that grew alongside the house and past my window.

From a young age I had been climbing down the old magnolia in an attempt to avoid my father. After receiving no thrashing the night before I didn't want to risk my chances of being rewarded with a beating this morning.

The magnolia tree it would have to be.

I lifted the window placing the small key from my bedside table in my pocket and began to make my way down the branches that stretched out along the back of the house. Checking my footing before moving down each time I managed to make my way, not so elegantly, out of the house.

Once I was on the ground I smiled. The sun was just gracing the sky, sweeping away the dusty orange and replacing it with a hazy blue that lazed just on the horizon, gradually seeping into the pores of the sky, painting a watercolour. A few birds danced above my head, dipping and diving in a graceful display, I smiled again as the small creatures swooped down beyond a large willow tree.

The beauty of the outdoors never ceased to astound me, it changed everyday presenting a new image of itself. The light fell differently, the colours varied, birds came and went and plants flowered and died in a never ending cycle of new life and change. I crossed the back lawn admiring the picturesque splendour that encased me.

Of their own accord my feet steered me in the direction of the walled garden and soon I was standing in front of it. The garden had become my secret hideaway, nobody knew of my visits there and it gave my peace and solace in my times of need.

I walked around the tall wall covered in mosses and ivy and came to the small rotting wooden door that provided an entrance to my sanctuary. I carefully opened the door and entered the small expanse of green. I closed the door softly behind me and made my way down one of the overgrown paths.

Weeds scrabbled at my dress, latching longingly onto my skirt. There was something beautiful in the way they covered every inch of the garden, strangling other plants to conquer the area as their own, forget-me-nots, bind weed, yarrow, thistles, daisies, couch grass, the garden was teeming with them.

The small stone path had been victim to their attacks on the garden and was only distinguishable by the trodden path I had made along it whenever I visited. After a few minutes of aimless wandering I found myself in the centre of the garden by the old pond.

The water had turned a murky green and although ivy had attempted to suffocate the brick that held it, the structure remained intact. Occasionally a bird would dart down into the cool water and break the bottle-green surface, but apart from that the water lay still, as if dozing in the early morning sun.

I jolted awake with a start, I sat up taking in my surroundings. I recalled the events of the morning and realised I must have fallen asleep in the garden. I picked myself up from my grassy bed stretching my sore limbs before silently berating myself. I did not know how long I had spent in the garden but from the position of the sun I could tell it was approaching midday as the blazing yellow bead in the sky was almost directly above me.

Muttering profanities to myself in a most unladylike manner, I gathered my skirts and ran in the direction of the stables. I had meant to be meeting with my circle of friends at half past ten, I wrung my hands in annoyance as I mounted Shadow and galloped off in the direction of the forest, I was sure to be late now.

Hello guys!

Much love

xxx

(Brendan Coyle as Cecilia's father)