3. A Perfect Stranger

Note: I don't normally like to write from a first person point of view, so I've alternated between third person and first person, which are snippets from Arianne's diary & will be published in italics. Ok, back to the story!

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Riverview, 1805

Arianne’s Diary

The rain plummeted to the ground, casting grey skies and threatening clouds over the small farming town of Riverview. 

 Arianne made her way down to the kitchen where the aroma of freshly baked scones and bread teased her senses. Awaiting her at the cluttered breakfast table was a piping hot pot of tea and a plate of Cook’s famous cinnamon buns.

“Afternoon, Miss Livingston.” Ileana, the girl brought in to help Cook with kitchen duty, greeted her before resuming her duties.

Arianne tossed her a smile and waited for her bookworm sister to join her for tea.

 “Well now, Miss Arianne, if I were not mistaken I would say there were a spring in your step.” Hettie Adams, or Cook as she was known around the household, cast her young madam a warm smile, setting aside the vegetables for the evening supper.

 “Father is due home today. I do hope the rain does not delay his return.”

“And it shall not.” She poured a cup of tea for herself and Arianne.

“Where is Amelia?” Arianne could never understand her sister’s deep fascination with the written word. She preferred to have the stories told to her; in the same way their mother had told them bedtime stories when they were little girls.

“In the library, I am sure.”

“Hmm.” She nodded and bit into a scrumptious cinnamon bun. The flavours burst onto her tongue, sending her into euphoria. Hettie really was an amazing cook. And something of a confidante and mother figure ever since Elizabeth Livingston had passed away. 

 “Father’s telegram has only reached today.” Amelia announced despondently as she entered the kitchen. She had hoped for some exciting news but all he had mentioned was that everything was fine.

“What did it say? When did he send it? Is he all right?” Arianne jumped up and bombarded her sister with a canon of questions. Her adrenalin levels had sky-rocketed as she immediately thought of the worst.

“He is fine, Annie!” Amelia huffed and helped herself to tea. “He is, however, bringing two guests with him. He has not mentioned anything further. Will you manage, Cook?”

“Of course, Miss Amelia.” Cook beamed; there was no meal she could not adequately prepare for. “It shall not take me long to make the necessary arrangements.” 

 For the rest of the day, Amelia and I occupied ourselves in the library while Cook saw to it that the grandest meal should be prepared. My sister, as usual, had her head buried in a book while I sat for my portrait. I suspect that Pierre was getting rather impatient with me as I could not sit still. I would turn to look out the window when I thought he was not looking. I could not help it, Diary. I needed to hear the clang of hooves and carriage wheels before my turbulent mind could rest. And then it came.

“Where are my two beautiful daughters?” Charles Livingston bellowed heartily the moment his foot passed over the threshold. He had brought many gifts back with him and he was sure they would be eager to receive them; though he hoped they would be more eager to see him. 

 Arianne, upon hearing her father’s voice, ran out to the hall to greet him. He looked pale and drained from the travelling but she didn’t make any mention of it. She flung her arms around him, hugging him, and taking in his familiar scent of tobacco and musk. Standing behind Dr. Livingston were the two young men he had mentioned in his telegram.

Of the two gentlemen who had accompanied Father back to Riverview, the man with the fiery hair had caught my eye instantly. His hair flowed over his shoulders like molten lava from a volcano; his eyes were a fiery abyss that I would not contest to getting lost in. He had the most perfect skin – porcelain and flawless; if I wasn’t mistaken, Diary, I could have swore I saw a golden aura about him. And his lips... Diary, his lips were full and kissable. I could tell he was a man who knew how to take care of himself. His features, his demeanour, his everything just seemed so perfect to me. I was truly spellbound. 

“It is rude to stare.” A voice scolded me from inside.

When I stared into those beautiful eyes, he was smiling as though he did not mind that I had taken a few moments to appreciate his physique. I swear my cheeks turned a bright scarlet red at that moment because Father was suddenly checking my temperature. 

 “This is Mars Mortensen and his brother Nikolai. Mars has requested a month’s internship under my guidance.” Charles motioned to the two gentlemen who were lingering outside in the doorway.

He caught Amelia crinkling her nose at this announcement. His daughters knew well enough that he did not readily take in young interns as he felt them too hungry for knowledge: he had no patience for it.

“I know I don’t grant internships so easily, but Master Mortensen,” He motioned again to Mars, “made a very convincing argument.” He laughed nervously and scratched his head trying to recall that convincing argument. 

“Oh we are being so rude. Please do come in. There’s no need to linger in the doorway.” Arianne was quick to invite the two brothers in. 

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Credit: The Livingston House (Proper name: Sandford House) was built by Peachybitz which can be found on TSR. The fencing and the interior have, however, been changed.