vi. memoriae

[ memories ]

The strong dislike he had for Penelope Caldwell really couldn't be expressed into words.

The woman was grating, imposing and most of all, her voice was incredibly shrill.

Victor figured he wouldn't be too upset if he never had to set eyes on her again. But seeing that he was here in the Caldwell's home because he remembered Jenessa's throwaway comment from two days ago, he was prepared.

Unknown to him, Penelope had been planning their wedding, disregarding everything the wedding planner they've hired offered. It wasn't till Jenessa's short comment on her mother taking over everything that he decided to investigate.

Instead of the small intimate setting they've agreed on, Penelope had been pushing and bullying her way for a large circus. And she would have gotten her way if he hadn't stepped in and intervened.

No, only a small intimate gathering of their closest friends and family would be allowed, he'd told her coolly and firmly. No, there will not be a hoard of photographers and reporters allowed. No, there should not be a giant ice sculpture or any ridiculous decorations like that. No, there would be no changes to the venue and theme, anything or everything had to go through their event planner. And lastly, Jenessa will have the final say in her wedding gown and her choice of bridesmaids.

It was safe to say Penelope Caldwell had not been pleased. But of course, not a single word could be uttered from her lips. After all, Victor had the upper hand, or at least, his family's position did.

Much to his well-concealed amusement, he mused that her expression resembled one's face when sucking on a lemon.

He was about to turn down the long hallway that led to the foyer when a soft voice spoke.

"Lord Ashford?"

Victor paused, turning to stare at a teenager who certainly couldn't be older than nineteen.

The girl was tall and lean, dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans and a white long-sleeved shirt with black sneakers adorning her feet. Blonde shoulder length hair framed her oval shaped face and her blue eyes watched him solemnly yet confidently.

One thing that stood out was her accent. The girl's voice had a distinguished lilt, every article pronounced in an upper classed accent, similar to his fiancée.

"Yes?"

"May I speak to you in private?"

He blinked. "Of course."

The girl nodded firmly before heading around the corner, leaving him no choice but to follow after her.

He stepped into a room that he assumed was a library due to its wall high shelves that were filled with books of all colours and sizes.

The girl paused before shutting the doors close. "Forgive my impertinence, considering we haven't been properly introduced before, but I'm here to speak to you about my sister."

"Sister? You must be Lady Lyra, then?"

He'd heard about the younger Caldwell sister, but he'd not seen her before. Unlike Jenessa, she was hardly seen in society circles. But he knew that the youngest Caldwell was well on her way to becoming a renowned physicist.

Never would he have thought the girl in front of him would be Jenessa's sister, but the firm yet subtle challenge in her actions did remind him of his fiancée.

Lyra winced. "Just Lyra, please. I abhor the titles—they're ridiculous and a mouthful."

"In that case, call me, Victor," he said smoothly.

The blonde nodded and smiled hesitantly. "I uh...from what I gathered, I know you picked Jenessa and she would be appalled at what I'm doing but—I ask that you treat her well." 

This is not what he'd expected to hear.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I—Nessa...well, she's always been there for me. And if it weren't for me, she would have refused to marry you right from the start. Our parents threatened my education for her to comply and—so, I...please treat her well. I'll do anything you want. Just make sure that she's happy and healthy for the rest of her life."

He didn't know any of that.

Victor only knew that Jenessa was marrying him because her parents had said so. He hadn't a clue about her sister's involvement, but now that he knew, admiration and respect for his future wife grew.

"I see." he shifted his jaw. "You don't have to do anything—"

"But—"

"I promise that Jenessa would be treated well. She wouldn't want for anything."

The blonde exhaled and nodded. "Thank you!" she gasped gratefully. "Thank you!"

"You don't have to thank me," he said stiffly. "Any decent person would do the same."

Lyra nodded and smiled brightly. "I doubt it. You're not exactly what the papers say, you know."

He shifted. "I do hope an intellectual like you doesn't always believe what they read," he remarked dryly.

The blonde snorted, blue eyes crinkling as she pursed her lips. "Well, they were right about one thing—your prickly nature. But that's all right."

He shrugged, making a move to leave as he adjusted the lapels of his jacket. "Is there anything else?"

Lyra bit her lip pensively, cheeky countenance fading. "Jenessa—She...My sister always wanted to marry for love."

He stilled, gut churning as his chest tightened. He knew she was watching him, blue eyes scrutinising his every minute body movement.

Slowly, he lifted his head, meeting her gaze evenly. "I'm sorry that she can't," he said with a voice devoid of emotion.

There was a world in that sentence.

Her lips tightened. "I'm sorry too." She straightened and fiddled with the white sleeves of her henley. "Thank you for listening, I'll show you out."

Silently, he followed after her and it was at the doorway when he heard the same shrilly voice that plagued him earlier.

"Lyra! Get back here! I wasn't done with our conversation just yet— Oh, Lord Ashford! I wasn't aware that you were still here. Is anything the matter?"

He noticed that Penelope Caldwell's voice became significantly higher pitched when she saw him.

His stare shifted to Lyra whose gaze was fixated on the ground. All signs of the clever, lively teenager were gone, and in place, a meek resigned girl stood, head slightly bowed, shoulders stiff with tension.

He wrinkled his brow.

"Lady Caldwell," he greeted. "Nothing's the matter, I was lost and Lady Lyra found it in her good graces to show me out."

"Well, I—" Penelope blustered, "I see—"

"She's very charming," he said, tilting his head to bore his eyes into the Caldwell matriarch. "And very bright. You must be very proud of her future career."

Penelope's smile froze.

"It would be a shame if anything happened to prevent that," he continued. "I'm sure she would be a brilliant asset to any company or organisation."

Penelope Caldwell forced a smile and choked out a laugh. "Of course, of course. Well, I apologise for holding you back on leaving. If you require anything, I'll be glad to be of assistance."

He nodded curtly, offering a faint smile to the awestruck Lyra who was gaping at him. Without a doubt, she had definitely caught on to the minute threat he'd sent on her behalf.

"Well, then." A parting nod was given before he turned on his heel and left the cold gilded manor.

It really was both a wonder and a miracle that both Penelope's daughters were nothing like her, he mused sardonically.

* * * * *

He wouldn't admit it, but Lyra Caldwell's words didn't leave his mind once he left. Nor were they gone when he reached home.

Heavy hearted, he entered his private study. After a moment of silent deliberation, he flicked the lock on the door before sinking onto the leather chair behind the wooden oak desk.

My sister always wanted to marry for love.

Victor swallowed hard.

Now that he was out of the public eye and all alone, he aggressively loosened the knot of his tie, yanking it hard from the base of his throat. What followed next was his jacket being tossed towards the black leather chairs nearby before he ran his hands through his hair.

Fuck.

Unconsciously, he clenched his teeth, the muscles in his jaw ticking away as he forced himself to be composed.

Of all the things on the fucking planet...

He scoffed and rubbed a palm over his face.

Of course, that was what she wanted. It was normal, an important step before marriage—a traditional one, an insidious voice added. 

His eyes gazed over the minimal items on his desk—the table lamp positioned at the left corner, the small black digital clock, the thick stack of files on the left bottom area, the small collection of pens at the right side that were accompanied by his family seals, and lastly, the small navy square box sitting on his right.

The box was deceptively innocent, but what it contained was anything but.

Fingers hovering over the box, he took it, thumb prying the lid open and there they were—the root of the tightness in his chest, the ache in his gut and the main reason for his recent bout of insomnia.

Silently, he gazed at the rings, one larger than the other.

The smaller ring had diamonds encrusted around its circumference. He remembered vividly the way Jenessa had refused, saying she didn't need anything too flashy considering the engagement ring she had, but he hadn't taken no for an answer.

He'd meant what he said, that she deserved a traditional marriage—a normal one, one that she would have gotten for herself.

My sister always wanted to marry for love.

Again, his gut clenched as he set down the rings.

He wasn't dreading the idea of Jenessa being his wife, he'd accepted it already. Additionally, he didn't think she was that bad, unlike the vapid shallow women he'd met the past month due to society obligations.

In a sense, he'd been unbearably lucky.

No, he was dreading the expectations.

With Jenessa blowing out all his pre-conceived conceptions he had about her, he really would try his best to make sure that she was alright and...happy.

Truthfully, if he was being honest with himself, between the both of them, she was getting the worse end of the deal.

He would be able to continue life as before with minimal changes, whereas she had to live in a new place, heavier responsibilities and most of all, she couldn't be with anyone she actually loved.

That was one thing he couldn't give.

His eyes lowered to the drawers below.

Did he really want to open Pandora's box?

Hesitating, fingers hovering over the handle on the last drawer, he took a deep breath before sliding it open.

The wood slid out easily, emitting out the occasional creak, but it didn't register to him. The only thing he was focused on, was the small box all the way in the back of the drawer—where it had been for at least half a decade.

Against his better judgement, he took it out, fingers curling around the pristine box and with a steady breath, he opened it.

The glistening ruby with the identical pair of diamonds on its side and its accompanying gold band was something he hadn't set eyes on for more than five years.

And for good reason too, he thought darkly as memories of shocking green eyes, crimson red lips and dark raven locks entered his mind.

She smiled coyly, painted red lips tugging at the corners of her lips as her green eyes stared at him through thick lashes.

The sun shining gave her an ethereal glow, making her tanned skin seem gold under the light.

"Aren't you coming, then?" she asked, voice low and sultry. "I'm not going to wait here forever." 

Victor clenched his jaw and snapped the box shut, shoving it away from him.

Why had he kept it after all this time? For it to serve as a reminder? That he had been a fool for letting someone in? That women were all liars and wanted nothing more than money and what it could bring? 

No, that wasn't true. He'd met Jenessa and well, the only thing she actually wanted was something he couldn't give. 

The irony should really kill him, he brooded sardonically.

But it didn't matter. Jenessa didn't love him—he didn't have any illusions about that. But neither did he love her, and Victor honestly hoped that she didn't have any thoughts that he would.

After all, there was no such thing as love.

* * * * *

"So your crazy mother has stopped pushing and attempting to bully you with her mad event planning skills?"

"Yes, which is odd. I was half-expecting her to insist on that other venue instead of the quiet ceremony in a church, but she was silent," Jenessa said, scrutinising the lace detailing on the bridesmaid dress.

Isabelle shrugged. "So all protests and demands have just...stopped? Without any warning?"

Jenessa nodded, smoothing down the light mint coloured dress. "Whatever, I can't quite care, not when I'm finally having peace for the past two days." She tilted her head, pursing her lips. "How is the dress?"

"I love it!" Her best friend gushed, brushing off invisible dust from the small pleats of the dress. "Thank you for minding my hair. Redheads just look awful in pink, much to my chagrin."

She smiled, admiring the delicate lace and the tiny pearl detailing over the bodice. "I'm glad you like it. Thankfully, it matches the theme of navy and white."

"Of course, I do," Isabelle smiled, squeezing her hands before tossing her auburn locks over her shoulder. "Okay, with this done, let's get coffee. God, I need my caffeine fix."

Once they were seated at a cafe, with their drinks and the small assortment of biscuits placed in front of them, Isabelle jumped in.

"So...have you given any thoughts on Victor?"

Jenessa wrinkled her nose as she took a sip of her coffee. "Pardon?"

Not to her surprise, Isabelle and Victor had gotten along fine. She'd finally introduced the pair two weeks ago and Victor had made polite inquiring noises while her best friend chattered on and on.

That was until Genevieve Blackwood sauntered into the restaurant and had made a beeline towards their table when she caught sight of them.

When the aggravating woman had finally left, Isabelle had made a rude comment under her breath which made her flush in mortification whereas Victor had smirked.

And the rest was history.

The rest of lunch had passed in a verbal competition between the pair in who could make the rudest comments about others around them without being caught.

Jenessa had been more amused than anything. But most of all, she was relieved that her best friend was getting along with Victor.

"Like your uhm...wifely duties?"

Jenessa blinked. "Wifely duties?"

Isabelle frowned. "You know."

"What?"

An interesting shade of red creeped up her friend's neck. "Never mind. Hey, let me have a look at the ring again."

"Isabelle," she prompted impatiently, taking a bite into the chocolate chip biscuit. "What duty?"

"Sex."

Her cheeks burned and suddenly the crumbs in her mouth have turned to ash. Jenessa coughed, dropping the remains of her biscuit onto the plate and took a huge sip of her beverage.

"O-oh," she finally managed, patting her chest, hoping that none of the biscuit crumbs had gone to the wrong pipe.

"Yes, oh." Isabella arched a brow. "So?" 

"It's just—we've never had this discussion," she said weakly, hoping that the blush on her cheeks would fade as well as her mortification.

"What?" Her best friend gawked. "Not even once in the past three months?"

"No!"

"Well, so? What are you going to do? Because your wedding is in coming in less than five months!"

She pursed her lips, mouth working for a suitable response. "I don't know! Isa, what should I do?"

The redhead choked and began shaking her head vigorously. "Don't ask me! Victor Ashford isn't going to be my husband. He's yours!"

"I know that! But I—"

"Look," Isabelle interrupted. "The question is, do you want to sleep with him?"

Jenessa blinked. "What? W-What kind of question is that?"

"A perfectly normal one," the redhead retorted, crossing her arms. "He's going to be your husband and he already may be expecting...certain things from you. Heaven's sake, Jen! You'll be bearing his children in the future!"

"Children?" She repeated faintly before lowering her gaze down to the table.

"Okay, forget about that first. The main question is: Can you deal with being in his bed?"

She stared at the condensation on her glass, watching as a droplet ran down the glass surface before being absorbed by the brown coaster.

"I...wouldn't be too opposed to it," she finally admitted, her cheeks warming and Jenessa knew if she looked at herself in the mirror, her face would be bright red.

She bit her lip and ducked her head down. 

To her credit, Isabelle took her answer in stride and stirred her drink absentmindedly. "Okay, now with that settled, are you going to...do it... on your wedding night?"

"Can we not talk about this now?" she mumbled, taking a long swig from her glass, inwardly wishing it was something stronger.

"Fine, I just don't want you to be all surprised when something doesn't go the way you expect," Isabelle sighed before shifting in her chair.

"Then, have you given any thought if Victor were to uhm... have dalliances?" She asked slowly, a tad hesitant.

Jenessa blinked and glanced away, not missing the way nausea filled her stomach or how it was making her want to choke on air at the thought.

It didn't matter, she reminded herself. They were having an arranged marriage and what he did was none of her business.

Somehow, that didn't make her feel any better.

She forced a brave front. "Well, it doesn't matter as long he is being discreet. Frankly, what he does is none of my concern."

If Isabelle shot her an unconvincing look and pursed her lips, she pretended not to see it.

* * * * *

A/N: honestly, people are still reading this makes me wanna cry from happiness? because it's been years since i've thought of this plot and i'm now finally getting it down? you guys make me really happy! :") also, tbh, this chapter was more of a filler chapter, but yeah. Also, can you guys let me know your thoughts on victor's character? its been hard fleshing him out so if you guys can share me what kind of person he is, that'll be great ('cos thats the only way I'll know if im writing him the way i want him to be portrayed) thanks!

also, i do read all of your comments and they fill my heart with absolute joy and i'm sorry i can't reply because i'm usually too tired and dead from work but do know that i adore and appreciate all of them! :")

P23/3/19