CHAPTER 1

The Betrothal

Aria’s POV:

The sun shined brightly into my bedroom, the warm rays infiltrating the room with South Carolina’s tepid spring morning. I stretched luxurious amongst the down covers within the large four poster bed I had found slumber in. The sun danced upon my skin, tickling me awake.

My name was of Aria DaChanelle, and rumors abounded that many found me enchanting. I often overheard my father’s friend commenting on how unusual my beauty was. Many of those same acquaintances requested permission to court me, and often asked when I would be of age to wed. I slowly got out of the rich bed and wandered over to my vanity. Looking into the mirror, I saw rich walnut colored hair contrasted with satin olive skin. My eyes were the same blue as the South Carolina summer sky, and at 20 years old, I had filled out better than most. I had an hourglass figure and a very well-endowed bosom.

I pouted my lips and pinched my cheeks as I stared into the oval mirror. My father must be ashamed of me, as I constantly heard comments made by the men my father often entertained about how, no disrespect to my father of course, of how I was designed to be lusted, and I honestly believed that because of that, my father was determined to keep me nearly hidden and well-guarded.

“Aria, chile, are ya plannin on comin down for breakfast?” a nearly musical voice chorused as my bedroom door creaked open. I turned around quickly, frowning.

“No.” I muttered.

“Miss Aria, your pa is a down waitin fowr ya.” The melodic voice traveled around the end of the large mahogany bed, and the large black woman the voice belonged to tapped me lightly upon the arm.

“Hardly Effy. My father could care less if I were present.” I scowled.

The musical voice now identified as Effy stared at me intently, her broad face frowning. Effy was our servant, a medium built older black woman, very round in the middle, with a large bosom and wide hips. She had been in the service of the my father since he had purchased her at a slave auction in Charleston when she was a young woman.

Effany had always been our house servant, and although the civil war had freed her just 2 years prior, she chosen to remain with us, as she was our “family”. My father took excellent care of her, and she rightly took excellent care of us in return, not to mention she was dearly loved by all.

“Miss Aria, that just naughty. Today he was a’wantin to speak with ya.” Effy lightly chastised me.

“I don’t care Effy. I will remain in my room and take the breakfast tray if you don’t mind.” I snapped cordially as I returned my attention to the girl in the mirror staring back at me. “And Effy, if you don’t wish to oblige me, I will not eat at all.”

Effy sighed at my defiance and shook her head “Aria, chile, sometimes you’se so difficult.”

“I’m sorry Effy, but Dad keeps me locked up in this house all the time and Sarah slinks around like a scared rabbit. I hate it here. Why can’t Father just allow me to have a suitor, one that will take me away from here. I honestly believe that they both hate me.”

Effy refused to answer me she began straightening the bed and puffing the down pillows with a final flip. She gazed up at me as she continued to work, meanwhile I stared coldly into the mirror wishing that someday some good man would come and take me away from all this.

“Miss Aria…” however the older lady was interrupted as a forceful knock rang from my bedroom door. “Yes’em?” Effy answered, as she softly walked across the rich Persian carpet that transpired across over half the room and opened the heavy mahogany door.

An older gentleman strode into the room, and nodded thanks to Effy for opening the door. The man was heavily greyed, had broad shoulders and had a very formidable manner. He was trim wasted with broad shoulders. His stone cold blue eyes directed over to me, his chiseled jawline heavily stern as I stared back into the mirror recognizing my father.

“Aria did Effy not tell you I demanded your presence at breakfast this morning?” he gently growled. Father was very imposing, however he did tend to harbor a soft spot to me at times. He walked over to where I sat and stared down at me mercilessly. I glanced up, my cool blue eyes steady and calm.

“She did father; however, I was late to rise this morning. I felt it was nothing pressing anyway.” My voice poised with a degree of arrogance, as I returned my attention to brushing my long walnut colored hair. The giant pained windows filtered the spring sun into the room making it bright and unseasonably warm, my father raised his hand over his eyes from the glare of the steaming sunlight and quickly walked over and partially pulled the draperies closed to soften the room.

“Honestly Aria. Don’t take that tone with me. I have some important things to discuss with you and I will not be disregarded.” His voice was soft and distinctive, with a slight French accent, harbored by the South Carolina accent he had adopted from nearly 30 years of living in the states. He walked back over to me and sat beside on the bench of my vanity. He smiled as he gently pushed a curl back from my cheek.

“I have decided that it is time you get a husband. I have been thinking about it quite a lot lately and believe it is time for you.” I paused from my relentless grooming and faced him with my icy blue eyes.

“What is this change of heart father? I felt as though I would be locked away in this house forever?” and although I kept my tone was sweet there was a sting of anger that lingered beneath my breath.

My father smiled at me, stood up from my bench and lazily ambled over to the tall silver winged back chair that sat before my marble fireplace. Carefully he grasped either side of the chair’s arms and lowered himself into it.

“Well, my dear, I feel that it is your time.” I felt my lip twitch in happiness as my face began to light up. I spun around in my seat and faced him.

“Do you mean it! Do I get to have a season?” I clasped my hands together and smiled enthusiastically. “I am so excited! Sarah could go to the dress shop with me, and fittings and…” however my father raised his hand stopping my excitement.

“No darling, you will not be having a season. It is unnecessary for you.” He replied to me flatly. My jaw gaped open as the next words burned into my head. “You, my darling daughter already have a future groom picked out for you.”

“What! But father why?” I exclaimed, the dream of having my own season completely extinguished.

“Aria, really my dear. It is imperative that you be matched with a man who is sensible, one who will care for you and can control his lust. You are not an ordinary woman with ordinary circumstances. You need a man who will be a provider, has a solid place in society and is of good family.” My father spoke calmly, almost coldly as he informed me of my future.

“Father this is not fair! I deserve to have a say in who my husband will be, just as were able to chose your wife!” I paused for a moment, absolutely seething, daring him with the same cold blue eyes that were staring back at me. However, after a moment I sighed, who was I kidding, arguing with my father was all but futile.

“Who, may I ask, have you chosen for me to wed? Pray answer me?” I asked, attempting to calm my demeanor although I felt a cool sweat forming upon my brow, my hands frozen in place grasping the arms of my vanity bench, a tendril of hair bounced delicately once again across my cheek, causing me to swat at it impatiently.

“I have chosen Fuller Griffith to be your husband. This ensures a suitable match for you, one of good breeding, fortune, society and enables advantageous wealth for us all.” My father was calm, he seemed almost pleased with this decision, yet his words were factual and coarse.

I began to shake, the tears began falling down my face as I silently implored Effy to intercede in anyway she could. The older servant frowned, and I swore I saw tears threatening to escape from her old dark eyes as well, as she stood horrified across the room.

“But why Fuller! He doesn't love me, and he’s a terrible rake father!” I cried, still valiantly attempting to discourage the tears that had already began to stream down my cheeks. My father shifted his weight casually and shook his head.

“Daughter, love is problematic and foolish. It is potentially as harmful as lust. Fuller does not love you, however as you know his family has that insatiable habit of marrying cousins and he has expressed the need for a viable outcross. He wants a beautiful, well-connected wife, and you my dear are all of those things.” He paused for a moment to study the undoubtable terror upon my face.

“We have already made the agreement. I have provided a fair dowry considering your parentage and Fuller agrees to provide you with comfort and stability. Trust me, it will be a solid match and in your best interest.”

The tears had come in full force as I slowly stood from my bench, shaking, my entire body trembling. Frantically I looked around the room, wishing I could escape. I was fully aware of Fuller’s reputation, and it was far from honorable, hardly stellar despite my father’s ignorant words. He was about as likely to provide me comfort as a wild boar, and stability, hardly. My life would be riddle with lies, abuses, mistresses, and terror. Fuller’s reputation was that of a rake, he had squandered his fortune, drank horrifically, and gambled and laid with every tart that would have him. It had been rumored that he had even raped a servant girl or two. No, he was not the sort of man I wanted to marry, he was evil. Why in holy hell would my father be so blinded to Fuller’s ways.

“Do you hate me so much?” I asked, my voice echoed in a shallow whisper. “Please, I implore you, let me choose my own husband, please allow me my dream of having my own season. I will happily wait another year, whatever it takes! There must be a match out there that will suit me better then Fuller! Please!” However my father simply shook his head, frowning, his patients becoming faint.

“Enough of this. Everything has already been arranged and we will be holding a small ceremony for you and Fuller this evening. It will be private, and you will become Mrs. Fuller Griffith.” My father, tall and fashionable stood lazily, adjusting his vest coat. I could see him survey my face carefully as he then turned his attention to Effy.

“Effy, I need you to stay with Aria today. Be sure that she is kept calm and make sure that she is beautiful for her new husband tonight. It would be a horrible thing if we were forced to delay this glorious match.” The old woman could do nothing more than nod, as she faced with me sorrow. My father returned his attention back to me for a moment, frowned at me and casually took his leave from the room.

There was silence for quite some time as I slumped back into my chair. Effy continued to buzz about the room, concentrating with her daily duties. I knew in my heart that Effy simply didn’t know how to comfort me. All my energy had been drained as I attempted to rationalize her father’s horrible news. This was the last thing in the world that I wanted. My dreams had been crushed completely.

“Why do they hate me so much Effy.” I whispered after much time had elapsed in silence, slowly raising my head to gaze at her trusted and beloved servant. Effy shook her head, abandoned her duties, snatched a chair, and sat in front of her turbulent charge.

“No Honey.” Her voice was calm and sincere; I knew she loved me. My father had purchased her for the sole reason but to raise and care for me. I could not have loved my real mother anymore.

“I know that my father has always looked at me as an obligation, nothing more. I am a constant reminder of how he screwed up. Had my mother lived he would’ve never had anything to do with either one of us. I would have grown up on the streets, but ya know what Effy…” I stalled as I looked into the Effy’s warm coffee eyes, “I would have had love. I am sure if it.”