Wednesday Brief your hump day dose of flash fiction

Greetings everyone!

After neglecting my Brief's for the past couple of weeks thanks to Nanowrimo (I currently stand at 43008 words), I thought it was high time to take a break and write a little short for your reading pleasure.

With the prompts French, corset and stamps I came up with this sweet little story that I hope you enjoy. Next week there will be no prompt as I'll be far, far away investigating other cultures, but more on that in another post ;-) Meanwhile, enjoy this story and as always, don't forget to visit the other awesome flasher's of the bunch!

A heart of words

She glanced at the sealed envelope before her, the French stamps standing out against the stark white paper of the envelope and the bold slanted strokes of the familiar handwriting on the front.

Lady Samantha R. Jenkings

Nervous anxiety clawed its way inside her stomach and she took a deep breath in an attempt to force it away. She became faint as the stays on her corset barely gave way to the oxygen fighting its ways into her lungs. Shutting her eyes, she fought of the nausea crawling up her throat. She took another breath, this one smaller, more controlled. Her brow dampened and she cursed her maid for lacing her so tight.

"Ms. Jenkins your waist is too wide, your husband will not be pleased.”

Her husband, the thought had made her shiver with excitement and apprehension. He wasn’t truly her husband, not yet anyways. Lord Baudin was her fiancée and she doubted that when he asked for her hand in marriage he cared for the size of her waist.

A flutter of panic breached into her chest. What if he had seen her unbeknownst to her and that was why he hadn’t shown up today? Her eyes popped open and she stared at the square piece of paper. How many of these had she stored in her drawer? No, he was a man of his word. He would not return to France and simply leave a letter as his farewell. Another letter. Soon after her father had let her know that Lord Baudin had asked for her hand in marriage she had started receiving the notes. At first they were impersonal, a matter of two people bound to get marriage by strict societal terms getting to know each other better. Then, something changed.

She wasn't sure if it was in her tone or his, but abruptly everything became more personal, more intimate. Every letter became a confession, a secret of that person thrown out into the open. Sometimes, it was well hidden among the niceties, but it was always there. A favorite color, a way of thought, a dream. No. His leaving without a goodbye was not a possibility, not after all the letters throughout the seven months of their courtships. If he was unpleased by her appearance, by her thoughts or the feelings she had thrown into her words, he would have told her. Lord Buadin, Jean, was not a shy man. Not only had he confronted and gained his father’s trust but he’d been open in all his letters.

Yet, today, the day they were to meet at last, he did not appear. In his stead Milly, her maid, had brought it to her on a silver tray. She’d sent her away and sat down before her dressing table glancing at the sheer piece of paper for the last five minutes. Straigtening, she reached for the envelope with trembling fingers and tore it open. Her heart hammered in her ears as she flipped it around, waiting for the paper to slip out into her palm. Instead, a round and shiny object tumbled onto her lap. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped as she stared at the simple gold band with a ruby stone. She desperately searched the envelope for a note but there was nothing. She stood up her fast her wide skirts pushed the bench onto the floor. Unminding, she raced to the door of her bedroom and threw it open. Milly’s name died on her lips as she came face to face with a man she’d never seen before but, which she knew without a fault was Jean Baudin.

Blue eyes full of unconstrained mirth lit up and a smile tugged at the corner of his plump red lips. Reaching for the hand where she still held the ring, he grazed it with a soft kiss that sent shivers of awareness down her spine.

“Samantha, ma chérie.”

“Jean.” She stepped closer into his lean body, her breath haggard and her mind buzzing at this unexpected surprise. “I thought--”

“I told you I’d come, chérie?”

She nodded. “Yet—“

“Yet—“ He closed the short space between them, his large hand cupping her face, his thumb brushing over her cheek. “business delayed me and I sent a courier with my last letter.” His smile bloomed fully and her heart accelerated. “I see you got it.”

He pried her palm open, taking the ring from her grasp. Samantha swallowed.

“Yes, I got it.”

“We have spoken long through letters, Sammy.”

Samantha blushed and lowered her lashes, a sudden shyness taking over her. He’d only called her Sammy in letters, his endearment, for her and her alone. She felt his hand on her waist, the other tilting her chin so she would look at him.

“Some things cannot be told with written words, Sammy. Some feelings--” His head lowered until his lips hovered an inch above hers. “--Are made to be spoken aloud and demonstrated day by day.”

His sky blue eyes searched her face and lingered over her mouth. Samantha closed her eyes as he softly kissed her, the soft warm touch sending tingles all over her body. “I love you, Sammy, will you be my wife?”

Her eyes flew open and she smiled. Taking the ring from him, she slid it onto her finger. “Yes.”  Tentatively, she caressed his jaw before standing on her toes and finding his lips. “Je t’aime Jean,” she whispered before kissing her soon be husband and the man who’d captured her heart with words.

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