The Delinquent Bride

by Carole Archer

  Shelley’s eyes remained focused on her father’s heavy boots, and she relaxed slightly when the dainty slippers worn by her mother appeared, followed by her soothing voice.

  “Darling, calm down. Come back inside. I’m sure she’s just gone to Charlotte’s to sulk. She’ll be home later. You can talk to her then.”

  “I’ll be doing more than talking when I get hold of her,” he snapped.

  “I know, dear, and I don’t blame you, but let’s go inside and have a drink. When she gets home, we’ll talk to her together. I’m sure she’s sorry for her behaviour,” Lady Annabelle reasoned.

  Shelley was relieved when her father grudgingly agreed to go inside and wait. They turned and walked away, and as their voices faded, Shelley edged to the front of the stall. She crept into the main stable area, just in time to see the back door to the house close behind her parents. Darting across the yard, Shelley snuck into the deserted kitchen and up the back stairs. On reaching the top of the stairwell, she stood on the landing to listen for any signs that her parents were nearby. Convinced they had returned to the lounge, she moved quickly into her bedroom and eased the door shut without even the slightest noise.

  Once in the relative safety of her room, tears again rolling down her cheeks, Shelley lay face down on her bed, eased up her skirts and rubbed the seat of her bloomers. Her father’s words echoed in her mind, particularly his promise to take his belt to her. Fearful he might carry out his threat if found, Shelley rose and dried her eyes. Now was not the time for tears, but for action.

  Shelley looked sadly at the wedding gown she was due to wear the next day, which hung from the wardrobe door. She fingered the expensive white silk material, adorned with the finest lace and thousands of tiny hand-sewn beads artistically placed with the utmost care. She could not deny its exquisite beauty and she knew, in her heart, that she would never find anything more spectacular than this gown. Shelley shook her head in the sad knowledge that the dress would definitely go to waste.

  Moving the dress aside, she reached into her wardrobe, pulled out a bag and mindlessly stuffed a few items into it. Knowing there was no talking to her parents right now, she concluded that her only short-term solution was to run away and give herself time to think. She consoled herself with the plan to return home a few days later. Not only would that bypass her wedding day and stop her parents forcing her down the aisle, but it would also allow her time to recover from her mother’s discipline. She shuddered, recalling all too clearly the undisguised fury in her father’s voice. She hoped that his anger would dissipate after a few days had passed, and he would possibly forget his threat to chastise her. Guilt at having walked out on her mother in such a manner plagued her, and she wished she could take back the hurtful words spouted in anger, but sadly the damage was done. For now, she needed to focus on her plans for her future.

  Shelley decided to ask to stay with Charlotte for a few days, and prayed that her parents would be more willing to listen to her upon her return. Perhaps they would even consider allowing her some input into the planning of her future, once they realised how passionately she was set against this marriage.

  Shelley sat carefully at her desk, wincing as her bruised nates rested on the cushioned chair. She ran her hand along the ornate lid of the stationery box, the brightly coloured butterflies happily dancing before her eyes. This was the most beautiful gift she had ever received, one that her father had presented to her for her recent twenty-first birthday. She carefully lifted the lid, removed a sheet of paper, and smiled softly as she fingered the high-quality material and the embossed butterfly in the top right hand corner. Indeed, he had put thought into having the gift custom-made just for her, making certain to capture her delight with the elegant, scented parchment and vivid illustrations of her favourite butterflies.

  She pushed back the guilt once again, picked up her pen, and shakily scribbled out a note.

  Dearest Mother and Father,

  Forgive me. I’m afraid I simply cannot go ahead with this farce of a wedding. I have gone somewhere safe and will contact you in a few days to allow me some time to find my way. Please do not come after me. I love you both dearly, but I cannot agree to marry someone I have never met. I need love. I refuse to have my life planned out for me, without my wishes taken into consideration. Please try to understand.

  Your loving daughter, Shelley x

  Shelley folded the note in half, slid it into a matching envelope, and arranged her pillows on top of it. After fluffing the pillows, she pulled the covers over the mounds to give the illusion that she was curled up and sound asleep. She crossed her fingers, hoping her parents would be true to their usual routine and not attempt to rouse her until morning. This would give her plenty of time to find a safe refuge to spend the next few days.

  She hesitated, and second-guessed her decision to run as she again thought of the hurt in her mother’s eyes as those hateful, bitter words were spoken. A lump rose in her throat, the longing to apologise and express her love heavy on her heart. Shelley sucked in a deep breath, knowing that reconciliation would have to wait until after the wedding date had passed.

  Reflections of the horrible day caused Shelley to rethink her plans regarding seeking sanctuary through Charlotte. Not only would that be the first place her parents would search but, after her earlier conversation with her best friend, Charlotte would likely tell her to return home. Faced with another quandary, Shelley determined to concern herself with her departure and worry about her destination later.

  With her parents in the lounge, and Dexter somewhere in the house, Shelley decided to escape through her window rather than risk capture by sneaking downstairs. She recalled climbing from her window as a child after being sent to her room as punishment. She was always careful never to stay outside too long. Lady Annabelle had never suspected her deceit, and always found her waiting contritely in her room when checked on.

  She tiptoed across the floor, sidestepping the boards whose squeaks might alert those below to her whereabouts. The window slid soundlessly open and the girl climbed tentatively onto the wide ledge, her movements hidden in the darkness. Pulling the curtains and shutting the window to cover her escape route, Shelley offered a silent prayer up to God for her safety. Gathering the voluminous skirts over one arm, she shimmied carefully down the metal trellis.

  “Damn,” she cursed, as her dress snagged against the frame. “Oh, why didn’t I get changed into something more suitable?” she berated herself, tugging the fabric free.

  Finally reaching the bottom of the metal framework, she steadied herself, released her grip, and dropped a couple of feet to the ground. Landing awkwardly on the lawn, she overbalanced and her arms flailed in a futile attempt to steady herself. Falling backwards and landing ungracefully on her bum, Shelley yelped loudly and rolled over, tears pricking her eyes as she rubbed frantically at her aching posterior.

  Her breath catching in her throat, Shelley carefully eased herself up from the ground. Frantically scanning the house and garden, terrified she had attracted unwanted attention and would be discovered before even leaving the property, terror turned to relief when no one appeared. Inspecting her torn and dirty dress, rubbing furiously at the black marks sustained during the short climb down, Shelley only succeeded in smudging them into the pale blue silk.

  Shaking her head in disgust, Shelley reached into her bag and took out a navy blue cloak, wrapped it around her shoulders and covered the tattered bodice. She certainly couldn’t risk going back for a change of clothing now.

  Hidden by the shadows in the trees, Shelley slipped away from the house with only a single backward glance. Lifting her chin, she began her journey down the long, winding lane of her childhood home and onto the streets of Southampton. She shivered as the sound of her footsteps echoed along the eerily quiet streets, suddenly aware of how ill-prepared she was to survive in a world where life was not arranged for her.

  She bit back another flow of tears and continued to walk
with determination, her bitter thoughts racing in her mind. Anger again raised its ugly head as she recalled how an impending marriage should mark the happiest moment of her life. As a little girl, she often fantasised of becoming a bride, wearing a magnificent gown, and having piles of gifts to open following an elaborate celebration. Never had she imagined sneaking off to wander the cold, dark streets the night before her planned nuptials, or that she would take such desperate measures to avoid getting married. The sense of betrayal from her parents, her best friend, and Dexter left a bitter taste in her mouth.

  Wrapping her cloak tightly around her chilled body, Shelley tried to focus on where to safely spend the next few days. She was cold, hungry, and emotionally exhausted as she ploughed aimlessly down the bleak road, her mind void of any kind of plan.

  Chapter Four

  Shelley walked for hours with no destination in mind. She had never been out alone so late at night, and the quiet darkness weighed heavily on her imagination. She startled at every little noise, her fatigue and the tender ache of her backside frequently drawing her back to the recent incident with her mother.

  Numbly, she crossed the railway lines and headed into Southampton docks. The sun had started to rise and gave way to several people milling around the dockyard. Shelley wandered in their direction, her curiosity growing as to what had attracted so many people at this ungodly hour. Suddenly her eyes widened in surprise as the haunting outline of the largest ship she had ever seen materialised before her. Oh, my God, she’s absolutely enormous, Shelley thought. She blinked her tired, bloodshot eyes and tried to focus clearly. It then dawned on her that she was face to face with the esteemed RMS Titanic.

  She recalled her father talking about the ship, and she had read many newspaper articles written about her long-awaited maiden voyage, but nothing could have prepared Shelley for the breath-taking experience of seeing it for real. She tentatively moved closer, shaking her head with disbelief. She was absolutely huge! Shelley imagined it would take a very well-armed battleship, perhaps more than one, to sink such a giant of a vessel.

  Shelley’s mother had recently suggested she and the duke marry a day earlier, to enable them to spend their honeymoon aboard the Titanic. Lord Frederick had expressed regret when he was unable to book accommodation for them on the ship, but Shelley had been totally disinterested, unsure what the fuss was about.

  She enviously watched as cabin crew and other staff boarded, and she wished fervently that she could join them. The Titanic could take her away from the stresses and strains of recent weeks, and her absence would give her family time to calm down and, hopefully, forgive her.

  Absolutely exhausted, her feet aching and her stomach rumbling, Shelley decided to stop torturing herself with impossible dreams. She was turning into her mother with her fanciful ideas! Turning away from the ship and slowly limping away, she momentarily considered returning home. In her haste to leave, she had forgotten to pack food, drink, or money, but while there was still time for her to be forced down the aisle, going home was not a viable option. Maybe she could think about facing the wrath of her parents later, once the arranged 11 a.m. ceremony time had passed.

  Shelley guessed by the amount of pre-dawn light that it was only around 5.30 a.m., but the dockyard was getting busier by the minute. Several vehicles had been driven into the area, and Shelley had a brief moment of panic when a car similar to her father’s slowly approached her. She moved quickly, and in her haste to avoid detection, she stumbled and landed on her knees. The car continued to move past, totally disinterested in her plight, and Shelley’s helplessness and grief suddenly overwhelmed her. She broke down in tears, slumped forward and landed face down in the dirt.

  “Oh, my God, are you all right?”

  Shelley’s sobbing increased when big hands grabbed her upper arms and hauled her up onto her knees. She instinctively moved her hands up to cover her face. “No,” she objected, “please don’t make me go home.”

  “No one’s making you go anywhere. Look at me, please.” The voice was soft but insistent and Shelley lowered her hands and raised her face to the pretty young blonde who leaned over her.

  “Come on, let’s get you up,” the young woman smiled, grasping Shelley’s hands and pulling her to her feet. The grip on her upper arms remained firm, and she was glad of the steadying hands as her knees buckled and she almost fell back to the ground.

  “Careful, I’ve got you,” a male voice reassured her from behind. “Let’s get you to that bench over there.”

  Shelley walked unsteadily as the young man put his arm supportively around her waist. She focused on the bench and her legs trembled as she took slow, awkward steps towards it.

  With undisguised relief, she lowered herself onto the seat, wincing as her bruised bottom pressed against the hard wooden slats.

  “Here, drink this.” Shelley tipped her head back and gratefully pursed her lips around the neck of the hip flask. She grimaced as the potent liquid burned her throat and tongue, but she was parched and took another mouthful.

  “I’m sorry. It’s all I’ve got,” the young man said apologetically. “It’s my late grandfather’s. I carry it around with me all the time. He was Scottish,” he added, in explanation for the foul-tasting whiskey.

  The kind young woman sat beside Shelley and took her hand. “What happened to you, miss? Are you hurt?”

  Shelley shook her head. “Only my pride,” she shrugged.

  Gazing back yearningly towards the Titanic, Shelley sighed deeply. “I would give anything to get on board. She could take me to a new life. The one I’ve got might as well be over.”

  “There, there,” the young woman comforted, patting Shelley’s hand reassuringly. “What’s happened? Are you sure no one’s hurt you?”

  “Not in the way you think. I just need to get away. That could be my ticket out of here,” Shelley said, gesturing towards the enormous ship, its four funnels pointed proudly up towards the sky. Shelley wondered if there was any way she could sneak on board, but acknowledged with dismay she had no idea how to be a stowaway. She quickly ditched that idea.

  “Well, I might actually be able to help you,” the young woman said. Shelley instantly tore her eyes away from the ship and stared at her in disbelief. “How could you help me, and why would you? You don’t even know me.”

  “You’re clearly in trouble, and I have papers to board that ship. That was my escape from England, but I no longer need it,” she said, smiling at her partner.

  Shelley’s tired eyes felt heavy, but they suddenly widened and she gasped audibly, her jaw dropping. Glancing at the ship, her heart skipped a beat, but she dared not to believe she had found a solution. Not yet. Not until she knew why this girl would help her and what she wanted in return. No one gave away something for nothing, Shelley thought cynically. Her father had taught her that much.

  “I was due to commence work today as a maid for an American businessman, Henry Kendall. We’ve never met. The job was only passed to me last night, when his regular maid was unable to travel with him. All he knows is that my name is Michelle Ellis and I was to accompany him to New York,” she explained.

  “So why aren’t you going?” Shelley asked.

  Michelle’s face lit up as she glanced at the young man. “I was working as a maid for James’ family. I knew it was wrong, but there was an instant attraction between us and we quickly fell in love. When his family found out, they threw me out. A friend helped me, gave me a place to stay, and I applied for work on the Titanic. I had to find employment, and hoped it might lead on to something else. It was my intent to stay in New York as there was nothing left for me here,” she sighed.

  “When I turned up at the dockyard this morning, James was waiting for me. He dropped down on one knee and asked me to marry him,” she grinned, holding out her hand and showing Shelley the sparkling solitaire on her finger.

  “Oh, it’s beautiful, congratulations,” Shelley enthused, glancing down at her own ring fing
er with disgust. She did not have an engagement ring, let alone a proposal of marriage. Her father had simply told her of the arrangements and she had been expected to go along with them.

  “I was supposed to be getting married today,” Shelley admitted. “I don’t know the man, nor do I want to. My parents cannot respect that I wish to make my own choices, so I have run away to find the life that I want.” Shelley felt immediate empathy for the young man, who she assumed had turned his back on his own family to pursue the love of his life.

  “James went with his heart and told his parents his intentions. Not wanting to lose their only son, they grudgingly allowed him to make his own choice of bride, though clearly I can no longer work as a maid,” she grinned. “With their approval, he came after me. So it seems your need for the job with Mr Kendall is much greater than mine.”

  “Oh, thank you, I’ll never forget your kindness,” Shelley enthused. “Where do I need to go? How do I get aboard? What do I need to do?”

  Michelle chuckled. “Slow down. You certainly can’t get on board dressed like that,” she frowned. Shelley glanced down and noticed that as well as smudged black marks, numerous grass stains covered her expensive frock. She examined the torn bodice and blinked back tears. She looked an absolute fright.

  “We’ve got a little time before you need to board. Let’s take you back to the flat where I’ve been staying. We can get you cleaned up, change your clothes, and find you something to eat. You look absolutely exhausted.”

  Shelley nodded, and watched as James walked to where she had fallen. He picked up her cloak and Shelley suddenly shivered, not having noticed she had lost it when she fell.

  “Where have you spent the night to get your beautiful dress so filthy?” the young woman asked.

  Shelley shrugged her shoulders. “I jumped out of my bedroom window. My dress got snagged on the way down and I fell onto the garden. I’ve walked all night, with no idea of where to go.”