The first day of my marriage I try to make up for my nosey questions. I wake up at a somewhat decent hour and spend the next thirty minutes in the bathroom to make myself presentable. When I head downstairs, the ground floor already smells like toast and eggs and Reed is silently sitting at the table, drinking coffee. The radio in the living room is turned on, but the reception is pretty bad.

After breakfast, Reed cleans up his dishes and leaves for his study only to show up again around noon. Until then, I have the chance to wander around the entire house, looking at all the details and memorising where everything is standing. I even find the time to prepare a simple sandwhich for lunch as I still haven't really figured out how the stove works.

During the afternoon, Reed leaves. The jetty is awkwardly empty and I have never felt so alone before in my life. I try the phone hanging on the wall in the hallway. It rings once, twice, even a third time before a dry click ends the connection. So far, nobody at the Sallow household has the decency to pick up the phone.

I rummage through the bookcase, make a selection of interesting books and pile them neatly on the coffee table. I decide to pick one up and sit on our front porch to read it. This lasts for about half an hour until I catch an alligator eyeing me suspiciously. Remembering Reed's background story on his scar, I decide that perhaps I could read inside.

It takes me the entire day to convince myself to use the toilet inside the house over which Reed and I had our first true argument as a married couple last night. Being used an outdoor toilet stall, the thought of having one inside causes my nose to instinctively crunch. No matter the arguments Reed has – it is open, it won't smell or alligators can't fit through the whole – it takes a lot of courage for me to actually squat down on that porcelaine atrocity.

When Reed finally returns a bit before dinner, he has brought fresh flowers and freshly baked bread with him. We eat in silence until I finally dare to ask the next question that I have been practising the entire day.

"Am I allowed to take the skiff?"

Reed looks up from his corn casserole and frowns in confusion.

"You know how to navigate one?"

"Not really, but perhaps you can teach me. It proves very uneasy to be stuck here." I add.

He sighs and I can see he's terribly tired. He must have gone to the Papineau Plantation today, which means he had to cross some distances and was probably a bit stressed to make it home in time for dinner. I start to feel a little guilty but then remember I was in fact stuck in this house without much to do.

"I just don't know how I will spend the rest of my days, looking through the window until you come back just so I have a bit of company."

"I see." He replies shortly, folding the napkin on his lap before he uses it to wipe his mouth. The scar on his left cheek seems to stretch along with his movements.

"I failed to keep your busy schedule in mind." He excuses himself, but the words don't seem sincere as he is absentmindedly refilling his glass. His dark brows are frowned and not once has he smiled this evening. The dark clouds that are absorbing his mind are almost visible floating around his neatly combed hair.

I place my own napkin back on my lap and inch a little closer. "Is everything alright at the plantation? You seem a little worried?"

Perhaps I shouldn't meddle in his affaires but he's the sole companion I have in this part of the bayou. He can not expect me to turn myself into isolation.

"Nothing that will affect this household if that's what you're asking." Reed replies and his hard words, turn my heart to stone.

"I was just wondering how you were." I reply shortly and stand up, shoving his empty plate over mine and striding down the hallway straight into the kitchen where I angrily start the dishes. I ignore the confused look on his face as I make my departure to the kitchen and leave him all by himself in the dining room. I hear his slow footsteps approach and when a sudden popping sound makes me turn around in confusion, I see him standing there with a bottle of wine. Uncorked.

He steps behind me, lunges for the cabinet that holds the glasses and grabs two. He has tossed off his vest and the way he looks, is the way I have discovered I like him the best. A little disheveled, a little rougher except for the tired eyes that are watching me carefully. He offers me a peace treaty in the form of a solid red alcoholic drink.

I cock an eyebrow before accepting the bowl filled with rich flavors.

"I am sorry. I am not used to this either..." Reed starts and he brings his glass to his lips. "The plantation is doing fine... It just proves that some negotations are a tad more difficult than expected." He continues.

"But let's not worry about that, shall we. How about I take you to New Paris tomorrow?" He fakes a smile as he lifts his glass towards me.

I glance at him from underneath my eyelashes. He desperately wants me to drop the subject and I will allow him to do so this time. But I mean to get my answers. If I am forced to live with this man, at least I want to know him.

"That sounds like a marvelous idea." I let my glass softly tick against his before I indulge myself in the fine taste of his wine. I have to stiffle a laugh knowing that less than a week ago, I would have had to ask permission to drink wine in my own house. Right now, I can drink all day if I would want to.

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The next morning I try to get up a little sooner. As soon as the sun shines through the window, I keep reminding myself that it is worthwile to get up and leave this desolate house as soon as possible. I listen tentively. There's no sound coming from the bathroom or from downstairs. Pulling my robe closer over my nightgown, I rush into the bathroom and let the bucket of water run full before I place it on the stove. It takes some time for the water to heat, but when it does I run over to the bathtub, empty the bucket and repeat the process.

When I finally step inside the tub, I come to the conclusion that the water isn't precisely warm but more lukewarm. I shake off my disappointment. Nothing's going to ruin my field trip today.

When I am nice and clean, I pull my robe back on, twirl a thick towel around my hair and dash back into my room before I can encounter Reed in the hallway. Standing in front of my dresser, I figure I have no idea what to wear. I bite my lip, running over my options.

Silently I make my way towards the door at the end of the landing. This shouldn't make me so nervous as it does. With one hand, I clench my robe tight around me, making sure not the slightest bit of skin is showing, with the other I silently knock. It remains awfully silent on the other side of the door. Perhaps Reed is still sleeping? I forgot to check the time, for all I know it could be six in the mornin'.

"Yes?" Ha. Reed is awake and apparently he too is suprised to find me at his door. I open the door just the slightest bit, enough to peek my head through the opening. Reed's room is bathing in the early morning sunrise. Reed himself is sitting on his unmade bed, wearing nothing but trousers. My eyes land on his bare chest. Before I can make a complete fool of myself, I force them to look at his face instead.

With sleepy eyes, he watches me, his head slightly tilted and confused.

"What do women wear in New Paris?" I say. My voice is soft as if it knows it's still early in the morning. Reed frowns and then laughs.

"Why would you ask that?" He says, standing up. In his movements, the muscles on his stomach stretch and make it incredibly hard for me not to keep looking at them. After all, physically, Reed is a handsome man.

"I wouldn't want to make a fool of myself... Or you for that matter."

Reed walks further into the room, towards his own dresser, offering me a front line view of his muscled back. Now this, does something unexplainable to me. I can't bring myself to look away from him.

"I am afraid I'm not following you, Annabelle." He opens the dresser to reveal a neat line of ironed shirts.

I realize he's talking to me and it takes a little longer for me to comprehend he's waiting for an explanation. I clear my throat and urge my hormones to come at ease.

"Well, a man is always judged by his wife. If I do not comply with the wishes of society, be sure your reputation will be tainted."

Surprised, Reed turns around and rises an eyebrow.

"If I act like a loose woman, rumours about you will go 'round. You can't control me, you let me behave this way, my behavior excites you... No matter what I do, the consequences for you will be bigger than they will be for me." I continue.

Reed slowly buttons his shirt. It's a pity to see his nicely toned chest disappear beneath the simple white fabric.

"Honestly, Annabelle. You can wear whatever you like. I have no reputation in New Paris to begin with. I'd love to see you ruin it for me." He grins as he bends over to pick up his suspenders.

"You're no help." I declare before I shut the door close behind me and leave Reed's room at a safe distance. Back in my room, I open the closet again and take a good look. I have brought my favorite dresses from the Mcgoldnick Trade, yet none of them springs into my eye. Perhaps I should start with the shoes?

Finally, after debating with myself long enough, I appear downstairs wearing a simple orange skirt embroidered with flowers at the hem and a white blouse with rolled up sleeves. On my feet, I wear simple white wedges, accentuated with a bow. My hair is bound together in a low ponytail, revealing tiny golden hoops in my ears.

Reed looks up amused as I enter the dining room. Again he has beaten me in preparing breakfast. I twirl around.

"Good enough?" I say and I can't admit it but I really want him to say it is.

He smiles and nods, indicating me to take a seat so we can enjoy breakfast together.

"I might leave you alone for an hour or so, but chances are a client wants to quickly run over some details of our agreement. Would you mind discovering New Paris by yourself during that? If you want, you can enjoy a drink on the Promenade?"

I agree with him and am eager to leave for New Paris. After I grab my purse, I follow Reed to the skiff. He's in full business outfit and I suddenly feel like I am incredibly underdressed for the occassion. Unfortunately it is too late to change.

The skiff departs and we soon find our way to the Creek. I am happy I bound my hair together, otherwise it would look like a mess once we reach New Paris. I had never seen it before but the stories and rumours that it gives were already worth it. Stories about casino's and gambling rooms, tearooms and restaurants, hotels and boutiques. New Paris sounds like a metropolitan city, much bigger and intruiging than Eauville.

As we near the town, more and more skiffs are joining us. Reed keeps looking straight ahead, but I curiously watch the other townspeople. Finally, we turn around the last bit of Great Green vegetation. In front of me lays a broad and wealthy coast line. Reed turns to the left into a smaller part of the Creek, away from the docks where long cargo ships are loaded and unloaded. On our left side, walls to prevent the vegetation to disturb the small strip of water, rise up. On some places of these walls, look out towers control the trafic. Reed decreases speed.

"Look out for an empty spot for me, will ya?" He says and I avert my gaze to the shoreline on the right. People are walking underneath parasols and big hats, shielding their faces from the early morning sun. It's already quite busy on the Promenade. Behind the road, big buildings rise up, paying homage to the settings of the most scandalous rumors. From my privilege seat on the skiff, I notice the red banners adorned with golden suns of the Marisol Hotel. Rumors say a wealthy plantation owner was murdered by his mistress in the penthouse of the hotel. Subconsciously, I look up to the twelfth floor to see the grant glass windows.

Reed finds us a spot and quickly ties our skiff to one of the jetties. Even the jetties are decorated with bright red flowers and painted white. We casually make our way up to the walkway, my arm hooked in his. I try to hide my amazement but with all these glamourous people and buildings it proves to be difficult.

As we pass the Promenade, Reed shows and tells me all about the different businesses. He shows me Dante's, a tea room where at this time of the day the wealthy are enjoying a fresh breakfast underneath giant parasols and watching the crowd from behind their big sunglasses.

Next, we pass by Jennings, a drugstore of two stories high. Already at this early hour, women and their maids are strutting through the different departments.

On his arm, I feel like a small child being indulged in the grown up world. Everywhere I look, I discover new luxuries. Even the drinking fontains look better in New Paris than they do in Eauville. We continue strolling around, occasionaly making remarks and carefully looking at the people passing us by. Reed doesn't wear a hat, his scar is clearly visible and I notice some people look at him in recognition.

Only one though, seems to walk up to us.

From one of the terraces, Beau Garden, a figure stands up shouting Reed's name. At first, Reed looks disturbed by the presence until the man comes closer and his features soften. The man is smaller than Reed but he seems in shape as well. He's wearing a light grey costume, a vibrant green tie tucked beneath the folds of his buttoned vest. He amicably shakes Reed's hand.

"Well, is this the fine lady your mother has told me all about?" the man says, looking at me. I feel awkard and a little uncomfortable but Reed smiles and gently pulls me closer. It is meant to support me but instead I feel even more awkward. I extend my hand.

The man laughs and shakes it. Reed shakes his head smiling. "Griffin, this is my wife, Annabelle. Annabelle, meet Griffin Carmody."

"Well, you were right holding your Curker gem for yourself a day or two." Griffin adds with a wink but I soon figure out he means well and is merely jesting.

"On your way to Jennings?" Reed says, tucking one hand in the pocket of his trousers as his other is still resting against my hip.

"Griffin is the store manager of that large drug store we passed earlier." He clears out for me a bit softer.

Griffin continues to smile. He has a certain jump in every move he makes as if he's all too happy to be on his way to work. I decide that I like Griffin already.

" A man's got to do what a man's got to do." He says and he rises his shoulders as if he doesn't know any better. A clock somewhere from inside town announces it is already ten o'clock. Griffin looks up surprised but starts walking away from us. As he goes, he gives a mocking salute at the two of us.

"I've got to go, but have a nice day Mr. and Mrs. Whitacre." He grins.

Soon I have lost his departing figure in the crowd on the Promenade.

We continue our way and this time, Reed decides to leave the Promenade behind. He guides us through a busy street. Soon the stores and hotels make room for spacious houses and well-kept gardens.

"What was with the whole pulling closer thing? No marital obligations, remember?" I say as I shake of his hand from my hip unnoticed and hook my arm in his instead.

Reed stops in his tracks and looks at me in wonder. Stupefied even. He closes his mouth, opens it and decides to close it once more before he finds the right words to say. He looks at me sideways, his dark eyes lingering on my face as if he is deciding in which way to approach me.

"I'd never given you away as a prude, Annabelle." He decides to which I can't help to frown in his direction.

"I'm jokin'. I didn't really think about it, honestly. But perhaps... If we don't want rumors to go 'round, perhaps we need to pretend sometimes. Only in the company of others, of course. And trust me, I won't treat you improper." At his last word, his eyes take an annoying glimmer. He's testing me, mocking me or whatever he thinks he's doin' with those vibrant eyes.

"Fine. But keep it to a minimum." I sneer before I unclasp my arm and stalk further away. Reed's mocking laughter echoes behind me. With a steady strides, he catches up with me easily.

"Now, wait a minute." He says and he reaches for my arm again. I turn around and rise an eyebrow.

"What?"

"I wanted to show you this." He says and he points to a beautiful white house on the corner of the street. It has high arches and white terraces. Green plants dangling down in spirals and topped off with colorful flowers. A stone pathway twirls towards the entrance, around a fontain with a cherub spraying water from a tiny vase.

"And what is it?" I say, trying to hide my amazement for the architecture.

"It's where I grew up." Reed turns away with a smile.