Page 12 of A Pawn for Malice
“Well, alright then. You’ve convinced me justfine.” She couldn’t hold back a long yawn that rose from nowhereand she chuckled lightly. “Sorry. Suddenly, I feel so drained. Iguess we should call it an evening?”
“I’d say that’s a good idea.” Florence roseand closed the distance between them. Together they walkedarm-in-arm out of the room and up to the second floor, where theybid each other a good night with warm embraces and sweetkisses.
The suite of rooms, which Jessica would useas her own, were tastefully decorated in soft floral shades of pinkand grey. It overlooked one of the larger flower gardens adornedwith American beauty roses. There was a window seat, where shecould comfortably stretch out. It was lavished with the plumpest ofpillows. Her bed was a queen size canopy covered with a quiltedsoft green satin comforter, dusted with pink and grey throw pillowsof various shapes and sizes.
There was a private bath for her personaluse, with a sunken Jacuzzi tub big enough to fit three people. Thewalk-in closet could fit a twin sized bed comfortably, and she knewthat her Aunt would forcibly persuade her to fill it to capacity.She was thankful for her Aunt. Now that she was truly home, sheknew that eventually her life would take on some sense of normalcy.She moved toward the window seat and knelt on her knees, leaningforward to open the window a little.
A soft breeze drifted in, along with thoseevening sounds that were calming and peaceful. The garden lookedeven more beautiful, indirectly aglow with soft lighting. She heardthe distant hoot of an owl, the chirping of crickets, the croak ofa few frogs that took up residence in the pond off to the left ofthe garden, where water cascaded from the fountain placed there tokeep the water circulating. She was glad the estate was located farenough from the city. She enjoyed living in the country.
Her mind began to drift, and the shadowsshifted as the scene before her changed, and she began to reminiscethe past, and view the outside through the eyes of a young womanjust eighteen back in Maine.
----
She was at her grandmother’s summer home onMt. Desert Island, one of the most beautiful on the Atlantic Coast.It was dotted with refined, stately summer homes, like hergrandmothers.
The only way one could reach the rugged,granite mainland was by a short bridge, where the beauty offorested, flowered bays and inlets could be seen, always brightlycolored by sails of boats that skimmed the horizon.
It was that summer she was introduced toRichard, heir to the Wilton Empire. She did not know then acontract of marriage had been arranged. He knew though. He wasadept and experienced with women. She was a virgin, naïve, andintent on her studies, even during Summer break. He played havocwith her feelings, inciting emotions she had never felt and couldbarely reign in.
He was expert at creating a fire deep insideof her, stirring a desire with hot, lingering kisses and passionateministrations that dulled her senses and left her wanton andcraving more.
By the time Fall had arrived, they were thetalk of Maine. When he proposed, it was magical. Musiciansserenaded as they danced beneath a twinkling night sky. They walkedbarefoot along a moonlit beach, listening to the tranquil sound ofwaves crashing along the shoreline. When he avowed his love, andoffered marriage, she had believed him with all of her heart.
Theirs was a Cinderella wedding. Her gown,which was designed in Paris, was an elegant, white satin. The yokeand collar were kissed with tiny pearls and sequin-embroideredSchiffli lace. The sleeves were luxuriously fitted and the bodicewas covered in pearls and tiny Swarovski crystals.
The reception was grand, attended by the mostinfluential of guests. A private jet took the newlyweds to theGreek Isles, and on the third day of their blissful getaway, thehorror began.
A single tear trickled down her cheek asflashes of the mental and physical abuse she had endured, flittedbehind her tightly closed eyes.
How he could have been so sinister … soheartless, would forever remain a mystery, forever buried with himback in St. Augustine’s cemetery.
Her eyes popped open and she wiped the tearsstaining her cheeks away with the heel of her palms.
Enough! It’s over. Your free … free to livelife as you may.
It would still take a while, for her tobelieve the words, that echoed in her mind.
OceanofPDF.com
CHAPTERFIVE
Florence’s idea of shopping was short ofmind-boggling. Jessica’s head spun over the numerous designerstorefronts that graced one city block of Manhattan’s garmentdistrict. She argued profusely with her Aunt, when she realizedwhere they were headed. She never paid more than twenty dollars fora pair of sneakers or heels, and the thought of her Aunt dishingout thousands for anything attached to a designer label was beyondludicrous.
She should have known better, though. HerAunt knew how to find amazing deals on designer apparel with samplesales. Florence knew where to go to purchase high-end merchandiseat a fraction of the cost. They shopped for nearly three days,until she was fitted with an adequate wardrobe suitable for casual,formal and nighttime wear.
It seemed weird to be treated as a tourist.Living in the Capitol Region most of her life, one would assume shewould have gotten to visit the ‘Big Apple’ at some point, but no.It just never happened. Her grandmother kept her cloistered away ata boarding school further upstate, until she graduated from highschool and then, she took up residence at Berkeley another fouryears.
She was held spellbound as they toured theentire city over the next four days. They took their time andwalked the financial district, revering over some of the mostuniquely, architecturally designed buildings. She loved theircarriage ride through Central Park and adored Broadway, where herAunt purchased balcony tickets for the showing of ‘Chicago’.
Jessica couldn’t get enough of the sights andsounds of the City; the fog rolling in over the East River, thestreet-side vendors and performers, the numerous colorful flags,gracing the United Nations Building, the stoic, yet gracefullybeautiful lady standing proud on Liberty Island and theever-impressive Metropolitan Museum of Art, where they spent anentire day goggling over the exhibits that spanned multiplecultures and decades of time periods.
Her Aunt maintained a suite of rooms for themduring their stay at the Waldorf-Astoria on Park Avenue. Jessicaloved it, because it was a well-kept relic of the past. Timehonored, as it was, it still held title as one of Manhattan’sfinest.
No city in the world either, had as many finerestaurants, serving a multitude of national dishes, as New York.Eating here was an adventure, as she tested her taste buds withdishes she normally would have snubbed her nose at.
She was readying herself for bedtime, whenher Aunt called out to her and knocked on the door connecting theirrooms.
“Are you decent dear?”
