The Autumn's Eve by TheRoost (reading e books TXT) 📕

Prologue;

The moon shines sweet and gentle rays on the meadow, its lovely light illuminating the spirit. Any man or woman could find how easily they give into their desires on a night like that. The stars were playing in the black abyss above, rousing the soul and tempting the body. And Cecile Roberts was not immune to its devilish tricks.

If anyone with any common sense had walked by at that particular moment, they would think to themselves How curious; a girl is standing in that deserted field alone. She must be mad.

And they would be right, of course, to an extent. She was mad, after all, for a certain boy in her town; mad with lust and love and longing that for eight years have driven her to continue living her dull, mundane existence.

So it only made sense for her to whisper, once another shadow joined her in the meadow, where lust was curled in the night, the name of the man who stole her heart; "Jacob."

-Chapter One-

Four and Twenty hours before this encounter, Cecile Roberts was starring out her painted glass window, watching the mares and stallions on her estate graze on the Onion Grass. The library of which she sat in was filled with books of fact and knowledge of the world outside her manor; but none of these interested her at the moment. And you must understand, for a girl of twenty, who has only seen the nearby town of London once in her short life, would have every right to be interested in the outside world. But not this one; for now, other things were dancing across her broad, clever mind.

For now, the only thing that held her attention was her neighbor, who lived twenty miles away on the next estate. He was supposed to visit today, and she would not be permitted to see him outside her comfortable leather chair, with a worn copy of Great Expectations

holding her gaze. She was to appear educated and well informed of classic literature.

For a long time, the Roberts family have been trying to play match maker with the Asher clan. Every year, each family always seems to have a daughter and a son looking for a spouse. Though these people live in modern times, they were raised in the way you'd expect a modern woman and gentleman of 17th century England would behave, even though the year is our current one. This generation was Cecile Roberts and Jacob and Mathew Asher. As Mathew was the eldest of the two, a dull, vague man of three and twenty, he had the most right to Cecile, the only daughter. Sadly, her heart was stolen eight long years ago, when Jacob Asher first met her.

This was the memory that glued her to the window, which tempted her to put down the ridiculous novel she had already read a thousand times before. The pleasant scene played before her mind as though it had only happened an hour ago.

In her mind, a small, averagely skinny girl with copper hair and rosy cheeks was riding a tall, strong stallion, whose name was Sol. She rode bare-back, to allow the feel of the wind whip her hair, the horse galloping so quickly it was like she was riding on a Pegasus, the one horse she always wanted. Now, at a ripe young age of twenty, she knew they were just fantasy creatures, her wild and romantic heart still longed for the unreachable. While thinking about the mystical winged horse, she fell off hers, which was a very idiotic and childish thing to do. Luckily for her, Master Jacob caught her and her heart.

And, not once, has she ever wished for it back.

-Chapter Two-

"Brother, would you hurry up! For God's sake, were not going to Anne's to get pissed!" Jacob yelled through the parlor of his own estate, pacing on the bright mosaic tiles. In the best of times, this eased his sense of unease, but this was not the best of times. After all, he was accompanying his brother to a walk to the Roberts house, where he shall woo Lady Cecile.

Drat,

Jacob thought as the memory of her pretty, angelic face danced across the depths of his mind, I thought of my angel. Now I shall have no peace till I see her again.

Gentle reader, I must give in explanation to this; Jacob Asher has had a recently broken heart. His thought-to-be-true-love, Maryellen, was not the good Christian girl he thought she was. In fact, she left him the moment she won him. He picked up the pieces and Cecile glued them together for him, in a way only a woman knows how. Friendship still beats firmly in his heart at this point, and a gratitude and loyalty that would not be wavered.

"Brother, I thought I was the one wooing Miss Cecile, not you!" Mathew yelled back, appearing at the top of the stairwell in his best suit, with no doubt in Jacob's mind he left a pile of others on the floor. "Am I presentable?"

"Yes, you look like a prince. Can we leave now?" snapped Jacob, who was already heading out the door like a school boy at recess. Cecile's face still haunted him, and was now more anxious to leave than before. How a woman can do this to a man shall forever remain a mystery.

"Excellent. Jacques!" Mathew bellowed the latter, his voice roaring with newly reigned impatience. The butler appeared at once, of course, as the staff was trained to do whenever called upon by Mathew Everett Asher. "Get the coach and horses."

"They have been gathered half an hour ago, sir, by Master Jacob." Jacques responded in his long, soft monotone.

At this news, Jacob practically dragged his brother to the carriage and was now, finally, on his way to see his best friend.

-Chapter 3-

Mathew Asher was dubbed by all who knew him as the "Impossible Bachelor", though by no common means. He was not witty, handsome, or generous; instead, he was dull, vague, and impotent. He wanted to acknowledge no beauty except the one he thought he had. He wore his dull, horrid blond hair in the most un-flattering manner, and kept his bangs covering the one beautiful thing about him; his dazzling, starry green eyes. His jaw was always twitching about, as if he were upset by something, which he nearly always was. He had a square and rough face, of which was not his fault, but bad genetics.

As Jacob gazed at his brother, a strange hurt pierced his heart. The hurt overwhelmed him, made him furious; though the understanding was not yet clear, accept to us readers. Jacob Asher, you see, was insanely jealous of his brother, who would soon become the groom of young, pretty Cecile. Though Jacob did not know it yet, his heartbreak was the key to finding a love of beautiful and pure that even God-almighty could not deny it.

As the carriage rattled and rolled across the bumpy "peasant" road, Jacob Asher looked away to admire the scene where he grew up; gentle sloping hills, luscious green grass, the dainty wildflowers, and the small clearing, which has held a special place in his heart; it was where he first met Cecile, and where she had first captured his heart.

And as both Cecile and Jacob thought about the day Fate intervened in their lives, starring out the windows when the other view was not to their liking, Jacob was being studied. Mathew now held his gaze on his brother, who was favored by opportunity and luck alike; his spiky, cropped strawberry blond hair; his dazzling, mysteriously clouded blue eyes; his pouty lips that form an angelic smile; everything about this man of one and twenty was radiating peace and beauty. All who gazed upon his smile were transfixed with awe that one man could have such grace and beauty.

The heart of Mathew was full of vanity and greed, especially as he gazed upon his brother, whose heart has remained pure and, though he would disagree, untouched. Mathew could think of no greater happiness, as he held his gaze at his brother, a clever smirk touching his lips, of taking away from him the one thing they both wanted, but was out of Jacob's grasp. He could picture the woman who had broken through the greed and vanity, to the scared, loving man within his cold, outer shell. He fell for her, hard, and was determined to keep her from his brother long enough to make her feel the same.

And he could picture her walking down the aisle, laughing at the broken-hearted expression on his brother's face as her gown of white silk trailed behind her. Together, in his fantasy, they would say "You should have snagged me while you could."

Ah, what joy this brought to his cold, cold heart! For the first time in his life, his heart was warmed by these thoughts, and when they pulled up to the manor, the thought the brothers of opposite polarity shared, was Let the games begin.