A Victorian Romance

Margaret smiledd at him and left him alone so he could get ready to leave. She quickly had a carriage prepared for him and had the servants get ready for the rest of the day, knowing her parents wouldn't like it if the dervants forgot to do something because they had had an unexpected guest for the evening. She smiled up at him as they stood in from of the carriage, glad that he was nnow looking much better than he had the day before.

"Yes, You shouldn't be gone to long. Though please make sure you get some rest if you are ever hurt again, Mr. Mitchell. We wouldn't want you to pass out again, that would be very dreadful." She said as she waved to him and smiled a little more as he promised to come visit soon.
 
"Thank you," He called, waving his hand just once, and then closing his eyes as he leaned against the carriage seat. He still hurt, just a bit, but he'd be fine. Once at his own home, he tipped the carriage driver, since he did get him home without even getting lost! He then went up to bathe, tug on clean clothes, and reassure the servants that he'd fallen just a bit ill while he had been out, in case they told his father he'd gone missing'. They accepted this excuse, and he went back to his chores, before going right back to the library, sequestering himself with more books, and a tall glass of iced-tea. It was nice at Lady Margaret's but he had missed his darker rooms. . . though ... honestly, he missed her even more.~
 
For the next few days things went on as normal, she was aloud to go out once again and it seemed that things were looking a little brighter, though her parents would still plot on ways to seduce Brendon. Then one day, she recieved an invitation from The Mitchell Family. She and her parents were invited to a ball! Margaret and her mother both seemed to be thinking the same thing for as soon as the RSVPed to the event the were both off in a carriage to buy a brand new dress for the evening. When the party came, Margaret was all dressed up in her new outfit and her parents were sitting with her in the carriage, going over a few rules for her to follow. She wasn't listening though, she was thinking about seeing Brendon again, and hoping that he was doing better than he had been.
 
Brendon was less than thrilled when his parents came home, right on time! But he supposed he was glad for an opportunity to invite Margaret to this party they were holding. He didn't know what it was for, except perhaps a welcome themselves back type of thing. He was a host, genially welcoming everyone who filtered through the wide front doors, especially looking forward to Margaret's arrival. It was while he wandered over to the punch bowl, that he heard some of his 'old school friends' talking idly with his parents. Oh what a disaster this party will be. For me, not anyone else. Naturally. He thought with disgust, as he took a sip of punch. He faintly heard from across the room. . .'And I hear your son has been with Lady Margaret an awful lot these days... Of course he has good taste in females, but really... he stayed an entire night there from what I've heard... really starts those rumors flying..." And then Brendon knew his father would chip in with-- "That freak son of mine had better remember his honor and integrity if he knows what's good for him. I'll have him castrated myself if I hear anything happened between them the night he was there at her place. Yes, the servants told me he'd been gone..." His heart sank and he immediately looked for the most anti-social corner he could possibly find. He wished his parents would just toss him out or something. Living with their insults day after day was really becoming intolerable. And if Margaret were here, hearing all of this... well, to hell with what everyone else thought, it was her she worried most about..~
 
When Margaret arrived, she and her parents quickly walked into the party. It seemed that everyone in teh town was there, at least anyone who was of high class. She looked around curiously, hoping to see a familiar face somewhere among the crowd. As she wandered around, her parents having run into some people they knew, she happened to over her a conversation. She nearly gasped out loud as she caught what they were saying. How dare they talk about her and Brendon like that! She had only helped him when he was in need! Oh if she could she would make a scene for sure, but this was not her party and that would be very rude. She looked around for Brendon with a little more urgency, hoping to get an explination for this. She wandered deeper into the party and stumbled upon him the a corner, looking as if he was brooding a bit to himself. He must have also heard the rumors about them. She walked over to him slowly and smiled as she curtsied for him.

"Mr. Mitchell, it is wonderful to see you again. I hope you are doing well."
 
"Ah, Lady Margaret... please ignore what people are saying here... I knew and worried about this the moment I passed out at your home.. I'm sorry. They can say what they like about me. But they shouldn't be saying anything about your virtue." He told her, his jaw clenched, his eyes dark, very, dark grey. Like gathered rain clouds. There wasn't a trace of gold or blue as when he attended that garden party. His fists were clenched to his sides, and he glared mostly at his parents. To hit him now wouldn't bring very good results later. But it just might be worth it! "Would you like to walk in the garden? We can escape the chatter there for a while at least." He offered, forcing himself to try to calm down, and not look or face anyone else.
 
Margaret kept a polite smile on her face but she was probably as upset as he was. She couldn't believe people would spread such rumors about her and Brendon, especially when they had been speaking to them at her garden party just a few weeks ago. She noticed that he was a little tense and knew that the sooner that they could get away from the conversations the better, for she was certain that she was just as tense as he was.

"It is alright, I never let what people say bother me, but I will gladly take a walk in the garden, let the rumors run their course so that better conversation can follow." She said as she stood next to him, waiting for him to show her the way.
 
Brendon felt instantly better, being outside in the fresh air. He fully intended to hide out here if allowed, but knew this wasn't likely. His father would want to stand there, in that hateful living room, just so he could be publicly humiliated all evening. He hated this house, and everyone in it so much sometimes he felt like burning it all to the ground -while his parents were inside- and walking away. Where he'd go he had no idea. But he was strong, he'd make ways for himself to at least carve some sort of living and survive on his own.~ "This whole place makes me sick inside. I know, you feel the same way at home too..." He sighed, gently making the swing bench move back and forth. That's when he saw him. The faded-see through ghost in very much blood stained overalls. The blood was more silver-toned, like all dead spirits who'd died of injury or accidents. The ghost was looking straight at- Margaret.... why?? Brendon tensed, ready for anything. Just as the ghost moved far too close to Margaret however, he was ready, already his hands glowing bright silver, aiming them at the ghost. Who seemed intent on scaring or hurting his friend in someway! He wouldn't allow this to happen.... but ... did Margaret see him? Didn't matter. The ghost was evil and had to go. He acted as though he were only yawning, so as not to alarm anyone who might stare out the window. The next moment, there was a flash of silver, a scream, and the ghost was gone as if he'd never been there.~
 
Margaret relaxed a bit as they left the stuffy house and wandered into the garden, sitting next to him quietly as they sat on the swing bench together. She had to admit it was a lovely evening, and seemed all the better with him. However, she felt that something was off, that something was watching her. She didn't want to bother Brendon with it but she could feel a cold chill running up her spine. She looked to him for a moment before looking to the ground, seeming to become rather uncertain for a moment.

"Yes, Home is...Home is not home and it never will be. But to go against them would mean that I will be locled away forever." She said softly to him she noticed him yawning and then say his hands glowly a bright sliver, it wasn't until the flash of light and the frightening scream did Margaret jump with surprise and give her own squeak of fright, quickly leaning into Brendon as she looked around worriedly.

"W-What was that?"
 
"A ghost. Well... poltergeist I should say. It wasn't a nice one. But it's gone now. Are you alright?" He asked. He hated the thought her parents would be cold enough to lock her away for no good reasons. Just as his parents found reasons all the time to beat him and humiliate him publicly. Adults really could be terrible people most of the time, he realized. He also knew he never wanted to be anything like either of them. He was ashamed to even be their son.~

"I'd hate for anything to scare you away....." He told her solemnly, gently moving a strand of hair from her eyes.
 
Margaret nodded her head a bit, glad that he had stopped it before it hurt her in anyway. She turned to look at him and blushed deeply as she realized she was far to close to be proper and pulled back a bit and fanned herself. She felt her heart squeeze a bit as he moved a strange of hair from her face, making her blush even more as she glanced at him again. She sat her fan in her lap and turned to face him more, looking into his eyes.

"It takes a lot to chase me away, Mr. Mitchell. I may be scared of ghost or anything of the like but I'm certain that I have nothing to fear when near you." She said softly, feeling rather embarrassed by what she just said.
 
Brendon smiled sincerely at Margaret's words. He felt, for the first time that night, a piece of happiness. He didn't want anything out of life, other than to always be with Margaret, just like this. She gave him hope that no one else ever had before. She understood him, when everyone else considered him freakish or evil for what he could do. She was the only bright ray of sunlight in his cold, brutal and isolated world. . . and therefore, the only person who'd ever matter to him.

"I'm glad you feel that way. You're the best part of my life, I'll never forget you." He said. He felt unsafe at his parents' home, as though his father really -would- kill him if enraged too far... and right now, at that party, he wasn't hearing any wonderful things about Brendon's hard work around the house. Only that he'd been spending most of his time with Margaret. There would be hell to pay later on that evening, he knew. But right then, he just didn't even care...
 
Margaret felt herself blush even more at what he said, not sure if what she heard was real or not. He called her the best part of his life, she was what made he take on another day with his head held high. She was glad he felt that way for she saw him in teh same light. Even though she had plenty of friends, none of them would ever believe the pain she suffered or help her escape the strife, they were only their for a small chat and popularity amoung the young men. Brendon however was there, ready to listen adn understand her loneliness and sadness.

"Thank you, Mr. Mitchell. I'm glad that I can make you life at least a little bit brighter and I would like you to know, that you are the light that brighten my night. I am certain that I would not be able to handle all the pain if I hadn't gotten to meet you." She said to him as she looked into his eyes for a moment.
 
Brendon's eyes finally manged to turn a bright, sky blue. "It means everything, to hear you say that Lady Margaret..... shall we go inside... and see if things have calmed down at all?" He asked, rising to his feet. For some reason, his own eye-color changing abilities embarrassed him. But she could see the color change happen easily in the porch light. He was back to being the mask of calm he seldom really felt, in a tumultuous sea of hatred thrown his way by his family at rapid speed. He knew they intended to drown him with it, yet somehow, he always managed to keep his head above water. Hoping for a brighter future..~ As soon as they walked back inside however, his father approached him in distaste, glowering at him, while nodding to Margaret. "If any sordid rumors about what's been going on has proven true... you can bet your life I'll punish you. Just wait till all these guests leave, -boy-. You're going to regret leaving this house while we were gone." With that, Mr. Mitchell left, walking back to rejoin his wife. Brendon sighed.
 
Margaret smiled at him and rose as well before walking with him back to the house. She was glad to see that she had made him a bit happier, she didn't want to see him sad at all. When his father came over to them it took all of her will not to bite back at him, it would do her no good to get involved in such a bad situation such as this. When he was gone she turned to him and put a gentle hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

"Mr. Mitchell...I'm sorry, if you need somewhere to hide to avoid this I can lend you a spare room at my home. I'm sure my parents wouldn't mind in the least." She said to him softly so only he could hear.
 
Brendon nodded, appreciating her offer, but knowing exactly what would happen should he ever be so bold as to run away. He'd be dragged back in front of everyone, another gathering would be held, but this time, it wouldn't be a party like what was going on in the house. No, it would be a gathering of the church people, and the Father Confessor, a cruel, pious man who saw nothing but black and white to all things. No shades of gray or compromises in the Lord's eyes. Oh, how Brendon remembered, one particular night, when he wasn't older than 10, his father gripped his hand very hard, keeping him at his side while the Confessor sprinkled holy water all over him, then burned crosses straight into his palms after they'd been held over an open fire for several hours. Once the crosses were burned into the skin, everyone got a good laugh as he fell to the ground, being 'whipped in order to drive those demons away...' His eyes saddened. "I appreciate the offer, Lady Margaret. However, if I were to behave so dishonorably, I'm afraid my parents would certainly use that as an excuse for far worse things than this mild public humiliation party." He said, opening the door for her to step through. The conversations had indeed filtered through, but it turned out that Brendon was certainly forced to defend his and Margaret's honor that entire rest of the party. He was glad when most of the people finally left, out of things to gossip about.
 
Margaret nodded her head in understanding but couldn't help frowning a bit as she walked back into the house. Even though the rumors had past she couldn't help but feel like something was wrong. She new that Brendon was deffending herfrom the rumors and it seemed that thing would only get worse for him. When the party ended she waved goodbye to him from her carriage, knowing that anything else would only spike the rumors more. The rest of her evening was a have of worry over Brendon. She didn't want him to get hurt anymore and hoped his parents would go easy on him. She would send a letter in the morning to invite him for tea again, just so she could check on him.
 
What happened to Brendon that night was certainly enough to give Margaret plenty of reason to worry about him.But as soon as he was locked in his room for the night, he was mostly fine with just studying and writing letters of apology to Margaret's family, just in case those terrible rumors had reached their ears. He hated people, with a rage sometimes that even scared -him- at times. people were so quick to believe in things they knew nothing about, and were heartless enough to say the most awful things about people, even if there was no evidence whatsoever about a single claim of gossip they started. The thought of Margaret's reputation being ruined because of that single fainting spell, made him growl with self-hate. Why did he always have to bring trouble to others he was fond of? He clenched his bleeding hands into tight fists. He wanted to punch through glass windows and run to the woods like a wolf he was so angry. Failing this, he remained awake in his room, too mad and furious to concentrate. He stopped focusing on anything except his unique ability to control other peoples' minds. It was a talent that worked best with anger, for some reason, and tonight he certainly had plenty. He focused first on every mind that had been at the party tonight, wiping out the rumors they'd wanted to spread, and he especially gave Hamilton Clifford plenty of nightmares, especially since he'd been the one talking to his father about himself and Margaret.~ He smiled, but it was the type of smile that could kill birds in mid-air. He smirked, concentrating again on his parents' mind, suggesting to their brains they needed to leave home again, and even refrain from returning for at least half a year! When he felt that suggestion sink in his parent's mind, he went to sleep, finally exhausted from trying to control so many minds at one time, during one night. He left Margaret's mind untouched, except briefly checking on her. He hoped her parents weren't hurting her because of the rumors either..
 
When Margaret returned home her parents were in a complete uproar about the rumors. They did nothing to Marget luckily, knowing that there had done nothing with Brendon for they had servents check on her everyone once in awhile throughout the time he was passed out and resting. Her mother started to polt some rumors of her own about some of the famlies that had been talking about her daughter like that while her father poored himself a brandy and took a seat while his wife stalked around the parlor angrily. Her parents however did give her a sern talking too, they wanted to make sure nothing had happened incase it had happened before his fainting spell. When her parents finally released her she went right to bed, not wanting to dwell on her thoughts much longer.
 
Brendon remained locked in his room for the next two or three days, no one was allowed to check up on him or sneak him any food or water. But suddenly, things turned out his way again as they unlocked his door, telling him his punishment was over, and they were going to France for a whole 8 months! "And if we hear anything bad happening, we'll turn right back around and beat you to death." Then the house was quiet. Sighing, he made himself get up, and ate half the remainder of soups and vegetables and sandwiches since he was so hungry! He decided to go out to the market that first day, after bathing and finding clean clothes, and was so relieved there wasn't much mail, or mocking letters waiting for him. He did hope, however, that Margaret's parents would forgive him, and know- for themselves, he'd done absolutely nothing wrong with their daughter, and that she was innocent as well. In fact, he wrote another letter just to them, still taking all the blame for fainting in the first place.
 
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