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Thursday, May 16, 2013

The Fake Marriage of Olivia Laurent

I have never had any desire to get married. My parents on the other hand wanted to see me married with lots of children. They wanted me to marry a man of certain wealth and title. Each man they placed in front of me were sent away with frustrated clench jaws or shaking their heads. My father had demanded I pick a husband and fast. I was steadily reaching the age of spinsterhood and no husband to fill my womb.
 At sixteen my mother had presented me to the fine British society and I was courted by many men.  I never let things get too far into an engagement and always found a reason to break it off. That had been eleven years ago....
At twenty-three the Boer War started and my father had decided my impending marriage could wait. I took the opportunity to get involved in with my mother’s circles. The “Ideas of Womanhood” were pounded in my head. Their ideas of what a woman is helped me make the biggest decision of my life.
I was not going to marry.
Really there wasn't a need for me too, I come from a wealthy family. My father had plenty of money, and marring my mother had only expanded his wealth. It was true I could not inherit his estate but he ensured me he would entrust his estate to someone worthy and I would be taken care of. In case I should never marry. 
Until one raining night in November on my twenty seventh birthday, when my father introduced me to his favorite card playing friend. That was the night I met Mr. Gabriel Laurent. I knew there was something different about Mr. Laurent. I just couldn't put my finger on it. I also knew he was clinging to a secret, I could tell by the way he smiled at me and the way his frosty blue eyes danced with mischievous.
“So, how is married life treating the both of you?” my mother asked.
We were sitting in her parlor room drinking very strong tea. Mine with a bit of cream and my husband’s with a bit of something else, but my mother didn’t need to know about that.
“Marriage is wonderful.” My husband smiled at my mother then took a quick sip of his warm tea. I eyed him cautiously as I tend to do.
He wasn’t the kind of man who seemed normal, at least not to me. After being married to the man for six months I wondered how anyone thought it possible he was normal.
“I hope that affection is growing?” My mother’s eyes sparkled with clinging hope. I knew she was worried that my finally getting married to a man substantial wealth might be a waste if I didn't start having children soon.
Showing much more affection then what he showed me at home, my husband patted my hand with his. He smiled at me, looking every bit the man falling in love.
“I think we need to spend more time together but we are getting along splendidly.”
“Oh mamma we are good friends, and very happy.” I assured her.
My husband’s jaw twitched ever so slightly. Had I not known what to look for when he was hungry I would have missed the twitch myself. During our fictitious courtship I learned so much about him that I couldn’t have made up if I tried. You see my husband Gabriel Laurent was on the run from his Uncle. He was to have a mate and assume his role as the next leader of his people but he had other plans. Gabriel had no intentions of being anything but a simple man, who could live forever.  Meeting me had been fortuitous for the both of us. My father had been increasing the pressure of me getting married. Each week I would protest and drive the poor man mad. Until that faithful night when I managed to figure out what Gabriel was. Since then he had come to terms with my knowledge of his secret by offering me some assistance. He would marry me and I could live the life I wanted to live as long as I told any strange men that I was his mate. At the time I thought he was silly, until last night when a so called strange man came over and asked me such a question.
“ Will you have a large family?” My mother asked pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Qui.” My husband answered in his native French tongue."Olivia and I want lots of children." 
My parents had looked pasted Gabriel’s French heritage because he was the only man I seemed interested in. I patted him affectionate on the arm. This was why we were visiting my mother. It was time for my husband and me to move away from England. I was to be taken to a place I had only read about. I was going to be French.
“Mother, this is why we are here.” I smiled hoping there wasn’t a crack in my lies. “Gabriel and I want to live in Paris.”
My mother froze. Her hand in midair holding a tea cup half way to her thin pink lips. Her small blue eyes darted from my face to my husband. It was anyone’s guess as to what she was thinking. All I noticed was fear in her eyes.
Gabriel placed his tea cup down on the saucer ever so gently. He then gripped my hand into his, a move he was getting far too comfortable with. I rested my free hand on top of his, only to sell our bond to my mother.
“Paris?” she whispered.
“Yes,” Gabriel and answered, “I have family there and I am to take my place in the family business.”
I let go of Gabriel’s hand in order to grab my tea cup bringing it quickly to my lips. I had to keep from snorting somehow. In truth his family had come from Paris, and they are substantially wealthy. What my mother did not know was my husband’s family ruled Paris. 
Victorian Couple