The cold blizzard winds that smashed against my window crept into my house through the unclosed door downstairs. Chills run down my back as I close my eyes. My father sleeps silently downstairs. His eyes are always closed, images sealed tight in his mind from the day he lost his sight. When he was thirty, still in his prime, he left my mother, pregnant with me, to fight in a cruel and useless war. If he was to choose between loosing his arms or his sight, he would tell you in a second that he would choose to keep his sight.

I know his loss affects him every day. He use to read all the time he tells me -- mysteries, horror, fiction, nonfiction, and even romances. Next to my late mother and me, there is nothing in the world he loved more than reading. He says, “That’s life’s sweet smack in the face. It gives you heaven and takes it back just as fast.” Reading and my mother. As the cold nips my feet, I fall asleep in my soft canapé bed thinking of my mother’s face, a face I have only seen in pictures.

The next morning, I wake early to watch the sunrise. Today is my eighteenth birthday. When I was a child, my grandmother use to wake me up to watch the sunrise on my birthday. “The rise of a new year, a good year, a year with less sadness and more happiness,” she would say as I leaned against her soft body. I was stupid as a child. I should have cherished the moments like that. Instead, I would close my eyes and try to fall back asleep. If she was here now, I would tell her how much I love her and miss her kindness and gentle manner. I was born December 20th, 1834. 18 years later I still think of her.

Since it is Sunday, my maid Blossom, my father Henry, and I are going to mass. Then my father is hosting a dinner for a few neighbors. Dressing for the day, I put my corset on tight, and Blossom brings out my new cream-colored dress. It was hand-made just for my birthday. Blossom tells me I look lovely, covered with the rose petal design and soft creamy fabric, flowing down to my feet.

I put on my flat cream shoes and wait as Blossom takes out the curlers in my hair. “Yesterday I heard your father speaking of Mr. Edwards.”

“Did you?” I said intrigued by her comment.

“The word in town is John Edwards is quiet fond of you,” she continues knowingly. I stand up and look in the mirror. My gentle curls fall to my sides reaching my hips. My mother’s color, but the curls are my own.

“Is he?” I say calmly.

“Yes, Miss Ritter. And he is very handsome, wealthy, and socially connected. O, he would make an excellent husband.” Blossom is excited by the idea of me marrying John.

“Maybe he would,” I said calmly, picking up my skirts and leaving the room quietly. I descended the stairs to meet my father on the bottom step. I took his hand and I led him to the carriage. Blossom sat across from me and I sat next to my father.

After about twenty minutes of riding, we arrived in town. We got off in front of the church. There was a crowd of people in the vestibule area, and several of them were my friends. Blossom took my father inside to our usual pew, and I chatted with my friends Elena and Catherine. Both were wearing stunning long flora gowns with their hair nicely curled. They were busy gossiping about a visitor. “His name is Dimitri,” Elena said tilting her head to the left her eyebrows went up. “He’s John Edward’s older brother and he’s striking.”

“Really handsome!” Catherine added, “And he’s rich, worth ten times more than John is.”

The visitor wore a long black coat and a white collared shirt. He did look just as handsome as his brother standing next to him. This Dimitri stood much taller that his brother with longer black hair. He glanced toward me and scanned my clothing. I looked away from him, seeing John was also looking at me. Dimitri smiled briefly when I looked back at him. Suddenly, I was feeling faint.

Dimitri Edwards, someone who had just stepped into my eyesight. This person made me feel safe, special, and with just a small smile I felt warm. I never believed in love but he was the one. The one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. The fairy tales would call it love at first sight. They say the eye’s are the windows to the soul, and deep in his eyes I can see who I am, but not just who I am but who we could be.

John turned to Dimitri, saying something quietly. Then he made his way over to me. I tilted my head to the side, curtsying slightly. In return Dimitri bowed, and John took my hand and bowed, kissing my hand lightly. As he did that, I didn’t make eye contact with John. I eyed Dimitri.

Then Blossom rushed out saying, “Ms. Ritter,” she bobbed a curtsy and said to me. Then she turned to John, “I don’t mean to interrupt but her father is inside waiting and the service will start soon.”

“Of course,” John said, bowing to Blossom, “I won’t steal anymore of Ms. Ritter’s time now. There will be plenty to chat about later at dinner.”

“Oh yes, and you must invite your brother,” I said smiling at Dimitri. “I would love to hear how I’ve yet to meet you. Oh wouldn’t you please join us.”

“As you please, Miss. I would love to attend.” I smiled, curtsied and left.

Mass was beautiful, the flowers were lovely, and I couldn’t decide whether I liked the calla lily or the hydrangeas. Once mass was over, we left for home. When we arrived, I could still see the maids scurrying around the house, they were busy putting finishing touches on the ballroom.

There was a beautiful band playing in the ballroom, and the sun was up for the first time all winter, although it was still freezing outside. At four o’clock, the guests started to arrive. They left their gifts in the ballroom, departing to spending time dancing and socializing all over the house. I spoke with several of my friends, but I was chiefly waiting for John and Dimitri’s arrivals.

When they finally did arrive, I didn’t seek them out. Rather, I waited for them to find me. I was in the grand ballroom talking to my cousin very young cousin Joshua. Then the brothers saw me. “Hello gentlemen,” I said smiling and curtsying.

“Nice to see you again, Ms. Ritter.” John said, sweetly kissing my hand for a second time today. I didn’t react or make eye contact as he did it.

Then Dimitri bowed and took my hand. He lightly kissed my hand, and I held his gaze the whole time. His cold black eyes didn’t move from my stare. Then John said, “Ms. Ritter, would you honor me with your presence on the ballroom floor?”

I broke the stare between Dimitri and me then responded, “Of course.” John took my hand and swept me off my feet dancing. He held me tightly against his chest.

“I didn’t get to tell you earlier, but happy birthday,” he smiled down at me.

Loosening his hold on my hand, I responded, “Thank you!”

“I have a birthday gift for you,” he continued.

“How very kind of you. I’m sure I’ll love it,” I said searching the room, but Dimitri had already left my eyesight.

“It’s a ring,” he said jubilantly. I heard him but I was busy thinking about other things.

“What?” I asked thinking I had misunderstood him.

“A ring,” he reiterated.

Suddenly unable to breathe, I pulled away from his hold and headed for the door. He followed me outside, pulling a box out of his pocket. “I talked to your father last week.” When did he talk to my father? Why hadn’t father said anything to me? I hadn’t seen John here much lately. He might have visited for tea two Sundays ago but not since then.

“What did he say?” I asked wondering if my father had said no and spared me the agony of having to choose for myself.

John said, “He approved of our marriage.” Then he opened the velvet box exposing a large diamond ring on a shiny gold band. The moonlight filtering through the garden caught its beauty. “Blake, will you marry me?”

“I’m not sure,” I blurted out. John didn’t look shocked. I’m only eighteen. I don’t know what I want yet. “I am honored by your proposal, of course, but it is sudden...I am young,” I trailed off.

“Yes, my lady.” He said somewhat stiffly, shutting the tiny box and slipping it back into his coat pocket.

“Thank you,” I said leaning up to his face and kissing him lightly on the cheek.
Then John bowed to me, and went back into the ballroom. I was now alone outside. It was cold, my fingers were freezing; but I didn’t want to go back inside. I was sure someone heard his proposal, and there would be plenty of gossip inside, so I remained in the safety of my garden. There were lit candles all along the pathway to the rose garden. Presently I sat on the bench and looked at the moon.
Up at the stars, to the heavens, where my mother was, where my grandmother was, where God was. As I pondered my own thoughts I heard a rustle. I supposed I should go back in. “Hello?” I said calmly.
“Yes, Miss Ritter.” I heard a voice say seeing only a shadow on the porch.
“Who is it and how do you know it is me?” I said, walking up the stairs.
“It’s Dimitri, and I knew it was you because I saw you rush outside with my brother.” He said calmly, “Now where is my brother? Shouldn’t he be out here with his bride to be?”
“So you know?” I said smiling faintly that John had confided in his big brother, the person who was causing me a lot of trouble in this decision. “Well, I haven’t answered him yet.”
“Why not?” he said sounding concerned and placing his hand on top of mine, thrillingly. “What is stopping you from saying yes?”
“John’s proposal is most flattering, of course, and he is a dear, dear man. I am just...just...surprised and still adjusting to the idea.” I stopped, pausing to catch my breath.“How is it that you can know someone for such a long time and love them for such a long time, then you meet someone else and that changes everything?” I said.
“I have no idea what you speak of. I’ve never loved.” He said pulling his hand away from mine going back into the house to rejoin the party. He just left as if he was offended by my answer. Why? Did he not love me too? Did he not feel what I felt at our first meeting?

The rest of the party passed in a blur. As people started to leave, I walked into the study to find my father sitting in his chair talking to John. My father had always felt comfortable/at home in this room even after losing his eye sight and not being able to read anymore. Unsure of how to withdraw without attracting notice, I joined the conversation, “Hello Father, Mr. Edwards!” I said.
“Hello Ms. Ritter, I was just speaking to your father about brunch tomorrow.” He said smiling.

“Really, father you must invite them over!” I said cheerfully slightly jumping with false excitement.

“Them?” My father queried, wondering whom I was speaking of.

I tilted my head slightly to the left opening my wide innocent eyes at my father, “Weren’t you inviting both John and his brother Dimitri to brunch?”

“I had no idea your brother was in town. I haven’t seen him in a while. I imagined he had gotten married by now. Has he a wife? We would be glad to meet her.” My father added.

“No sir, he was just away on business. And no, sir, he has not wed,” John said, reassuring my father.

“That’s a lot of business isn’t it? It’s been almost five years since I’ve seen him last. But that doesn’t matter. Have him come with you John. We’ll make a day of it,” My father said shaking John’s hand.

Then John and the other guests left and the party was over. I went into my room to get ready for tomorrow. Blossom undressed me, chatting of the gowns and the dances and the marzipan cake. I slept well dreaming of my moonlit garden and how lovely it would be to be married in it.

The next day I got ready in my room with Blossom and she said, “I heard Mr. Edwards has asked to marry you. Is this true?”

“Yes.” I said simply.

“And how did you respond to this question?” she asked slowing her work as she listened intently.
“I said I don’t know.”
“What?” she scolded me. “Your mother must be ashamed of you, and your father will be too at hearing this news. A perfectly good gentleman has asked you to marry him on your eighteenth birthday and you say, “Maybe!” What has gotten into you?” She screamed at me. She then muttered something like, “If a man like him had asked me to marry him, I would have jumped at the opportunity nailing that ring to my finger.”
I just sat there waiting for her to finish my hair as she pulled and twisted strands, impatient with me for not saying “yes” and jumping at the opportunity of marriage to a good man. I heard the door downstairs open then as my father greeted guests. Blossom finished my hair and pronounced I was ready. I descended the stairs and waiting at the bottom step was Dimitri. My father and John were nowhere to be found. Dimitri bowed and we went to sit.

The table was set for four but only Dimitri and I were there. We waited sitting silently. Then I asked abruptly, “How old are you?”
“Twenty-six,” he said.

“Why are you not married?” I asked.

“I haven’t asked the right girl yet!” he said.

“Have you asked any of the wrong girls?” I said smiling.

“Yes, a few.” He said laughing and smiling back at me.

“Why are you back after so long?” I said.

“I came to see my brother.” My eyebrows went up in disbelief. He said, almost despite himself, “To come back to my father’s house to get married.”

“Whom are you going to marry?” I asked.

He looked gravely at me. Our conversation had gone from funny to serious and he could see it on my face. “I wish to marry someone like you.”

“Not me?” I asked.

“Ah, but what of my brother’s feelings.” He said smiling at his joke.

“Would you marry me?” I asked. And then my father and John came in. John smiled warmly as he sat next to me. A maid guiding my father to my side, where he leaned in and said, “May I speak to you alone?” I took his hand and we walked to the study.

I sat in the chair across from his chair and he said, “Marry John!”

“What?” I said.

“I invited him over today to congratulate him. But I find you said ‘maybe’. I was ashamed, my child.” He said, “I expect you to go downstairs and announce to the table that you plan to marry him. Make your mother and me proud.” That struck me. Making my father proud was important to me, as he had no other children, just me. My mother had died in childbirth, and I was all that he had.

I went downstairs. On the staircase, Dimitri stopped me. He took my arm and I turned to him. His warm eyes embraced me and I waited for him to speak. “I would marry you!” he said. I was shocked; tears began to swell in my eyes as I let go of his arm. I walked into the dinning room leaving Dimitri behind me.

I walked in and John stood to bow. I walked quickly up to him and said, “John, I will marry you.”he kissed me.

That was it. He drew the box from his pocket and put the ring on my finger. In a week’s time, we were to be wed. We had the wedding at the neighborhood church, and I moved into his home. Dimitri was at the wedding, but I couldn’t look at him for much longer that a few minutes without feeling like crying. I would have married him, and he would have married me. When I moved into his family home, Dimitri was gone. I never asked John where he went.

A few months after the wedding, my father became very sick. I spent weeks with him. But on April 13 he passed away. We buried him near my mother in the grave by our old home. I couldn’t stop crying for days. I locked myself in my bedroom, and I wouldn’t leave or let anyone in. Whom could I talk to? Not my husband,the man I didn’t really love; not my nasty maid Blossom; or my late parents. I felt so alone.

After awhile, I determined to try and fall in love with John. Every time I was happy with him, though, I thought of my father forcing us to get married or the look on Dimitri’s face as he said he would marry me. After six lovely years of marriage, John became ill. I sat at his deathbed as he said, “I have always loved you even when you seemed distant and depressed. Not a day has passed since I asked you to marry me that I haven’t though how perfect you are.”

I smiled at him looking at his beautiful blue eyes. I looked for that spark. I couldn’t love him and I couldn’t lie to him. He had been my only friend for the past few years and I had been nothing but a burden for him to take care of. Unable to say anything in response, I simply squeezed his limp hand.

For hours each day, I sat there holding his hand, reading out loud to soothe his pain. He could barely speak during the last few days, but he said he loved me at least once every time I sat with him. Then finally the doctor said there was no more chance of John recovering, and I sent the message out to everyone he knew.

I would sit in our room in the chair next to the bed as people came in to say their goodbyes. Flowers like tears were all over the room coming from everyone who loved John. After about a week of visitors, I told Blossom no more. He could barely open his eyes and I knew he wouldn’t want people looking at him that way. So I waited alone.

I lit a fire in his room and sat next to him with a blanket over my lap and a book in my hands. I could hear the beating of the rain against the windowpanes and the thunder rumbling in the distance. The house had been swept with the crisp smell of clean air and wet grasslands.

I walked over to the curtains and opened them looking out over the moors. On the rode leading to our home, I saw a single horse, with one rider dressed in layers of coats, heavy boots, with his hair drenched. I ran down the stairs to see this mysterious guest. I opened the front door and there he was. The same feelings that had rushed through me that long-ago morning at Sunday mass now surged through every part of me. It was Dimitri. But he did not speak or address me. He simply passed dropping his coat on the ground and leaving his boots outside.

I ran upstairs to find him in the exact place I had been sitting in when all the other guests had visited. I paused in the doorway, loath to intrude. John had sat up to my surprise and was looking at Dimitri, tears in both of their eyes. “John, how are you feeling?” he asked gently, hoping for the slightest response from his very weak brother.

“Never been better.” John murmured gamely.

Dimitri smiled looking at his baby brother. “Good to hear it. You better go back to sleep,” said Dimitri squeezing the words out through his tears.

“No!” John said then, surprisingly loud.

“Why?” Dimitri replied.

“You need to say goodbye,” John said.

“To whom?” Dimitri said tears rolling down his face trying not to acknowledge his brother’s sickness.

“To me, brother, I’m going to die.” He said coughing.

“No,” Dimitri said.

“Yes, and I need to tell you something,” John paused coughing and breathing loudly.

“Yes?” Dimitri said patiently awaiting the final request of his brother.

“I love my wife...and so do you. And she...she never loved me, Dimitri. She chose you. I married her, knowing that, knowing she loved you. I thought that, with time, she would be content with me. Now, I am not sure. Make her happy, Dimitri, the way I never could.” As I heard these words coming from John’s mouth, I noticed that I was crying. I don’t know when I started to cry but my face was wet with sadness. “She has never once complained and has made the last six year of my life joyful. I want the rest of her life to be happy. She suffered for me, now please appease her pains, take her hand and marry her.” Then he started coughing again and laid back into his bed. He closed his eyes to fall asleep.

“Goodbye,” Dimitri said leaving the room without a word or a glance at me.

John never woke up again. He had said goodbye to his brother and to me and was ready to die. I was grateful his last moments were peaceful. I grieved in my room for the next few days as the servants made the funeral arrangements.

The day of the funeral was foggy like most days on the Yorkshire moors. I had a black umbrella and I held it above me as they closed his casket. They put John into the ground at the familiar cemetery next to our church. I would never look at the church the same way; it was now a place were my deceased mother, father, and husband lay in his eternal bed.

After the ceremony, I sat in the graveyard crying. Then someone sat next to me. “What are you doing here?” I asked not even looking to see who it was.

“Finishing some final business for John,” he said soberly. I turned and looked up at Dimitri’s face. “I’m here to take you home.” He took my hand and led me to our carriage.

I didn’t leave my room for a few days turning away the care of all my maids. The only person I let in was Dimitri who carried in food and drink. Finally after days of this torture, I went out. I spent the day in town going to shops. Then I went tend my new garden at the Edward’s mansion.

After the sun went down, I headed back into the house. The house seemed empty so I went upstairs. After cleaning up, I looked for Dimitri. I found him reading in the study by the fireplace. I walked in and he turned to face me. “Are you not done mourning my brother’s death?” he said looking at my all black dress and my raggedy wet hair.

I turned to walk out and he stood. “I didn’t mean to offend you,” he called across the room while walking in my direction.

“You didn’t offend me, I’m just uneasy about talking about John.” I said looking out the door. He walked over to face me.

“About what John said.” He said softly looking down at his feet.

“You don’t have to!” I said being shushed by him.

“I’ve always wanted to marry you!” He said.

The next day he called the minister and we were married in the rose garden at my old house. I married John to please my father. I loved John, that’s true, but more as a brother than a husband. I love Dimitri as my soul-mate. He makes me want to get up every day. He makes me unafraid of death because I know he will always be with me. I feel complete with him by my side.