The Moon's Curse

Chapter 1 - A New Beginning

SWINDON, MARCH 10th, 1872

“Just a bit more and we are good to go, Phantom,” I gently tell my Thoroughbred, as I run the brush down his flank. He lets out a soft snort, as if trying to respond to me. I can’t help but imagine what he would have to say to me. I supress a giggle as I think of his response. Thank heavens that I am alone in here. The workers already think that I am strange enough. I don’t need them to hear that I am also talking to a horse.

The sound of footsteps suddenly catches my attention. And voices. They are getting louder. Coming closer. They belong to more than three people, I am sure of it. But why would anyone come here in the middle of the day? Our caretaker has just retired at the end of the week, so it can’t possibly be him.

I slowly lift the brush off Phantom’s shiny hair coat, getting closer to the hole inside the wooden door, which is meant for horses to put their heads through. I observe silently, quickly ducking as I see about a dozen people entering the building. I recognize most of their faces. It is our groomers and filed workers. They are all men, which is why I am hiding. A woman in the stables has always been frowned upon. I don’t want to give them a reason to mock me.

I lower myself to the ground, extending my legs in a not very ladylike matter. I smile at sight of my skirts all messed up and my riding boots sticking out underneath them. I can even see a part of my legs. I am never allowed to show them. I rarely even see them myself. My aunt says it isn’t proper.

The sound of laughter brings me out of my thoughts, making me listen to what is actually happening. This is quite unusual. The workers rarely gather like this. They aren’t really allowed to. But since my aunt isn’t here, there is in fact no one who could prevent them from doing it. Except me, of course. I am going to wait and see how this goes. Oh, who am I kidding? They would never listen to my orders.

“Ahoy! Here he comes!” I hear one of the men call out. The words are followed by a round of applause and loud, excited howling, making me furrow my eyebrows in confusion. I am dying to see what is happening and who earned themselves such a warm welcome, but I know I can’t let them see me.

Luckily, my curiosity is soon quenched by the sound of a familiar voice. “Settle down, gentlemen. I am only starting a new job, I haven’t gotten rich,” I hear Mr. Harrison speak, finally realizing what this is about. They are celebrating his new caretaker position. My aunt already named him a while ago, because she knew she would be away when Mr. Jones, our old caretaker, would retire.

I look up at Phantom with an apologetic gaze. He glances down at me as if he knows what I am trying to tell him. “I am sincerely sorry, but it seems like our ride will have to wait for a while,” I still whisper, wanting him to know that I didn’t mean for this to happen.

I then listen in to what is happening outside again, knowing that no one could have heard me whispering. Not with the volume of their cheers. In one moment, I even have to cover my ears with my hands. Oh my, and they say ladies can be unbearably loud.

I am never around gentlemen much. I was only allowed to communicate with them during the high social season, when it was deemed proper. I first became a debutante two summers ago, when my aunt sent me to London to meet my match. I was staying with a few acquaintances of hers and she came to visit me a few times as she was returning from her business journeys. It was the same the year after since I didn’t manage to find myself a husband the first time.

My aunt never really put much pressure on me about that. She told me that if the social season doesn’t prove successful to me, she can still find me a match here in Swindon, when the time comes. Well, I knew I only had two choices then. The incredibly boring Barry, who lived uphill, and the ridiculously judgmental John, who lived on the other side of the fields. I wanted neither of them.

In fact, I did not want any man. I wanted to be like my aunt. I wanted to make my own money and live alone. I would be perfectly happy. I think she might already be warming up to the idea, because she hinted, I wouldn’t need to attend the season this year. She said that nothing is wrong with me and that I simply need a break from the overwhelming events of the season. I couldn’t agree with her more.

But this also means, that she might send me back to London in the future. And that year will be my last chance, I will have no other choice but to find myself a husband. Unless I want to be considered a failure and be forced to either marry Boring Barry or Judgmental John.

I shiver at the thought, jumping a little as Phantom shuffles his hoofs. I stare up at him compassionately. He isn’t used to have so many people in here. He is still rather young, and I try my best not to do anything that might upset him. He is a sensitive horse.

“Here it is! I knew he must have left some behind. Take a swing gentlemen, while you still can!” I hear Mr. Harrison’s voice again, quickly realizing what he is talking about. Our previous caretaker was known to be hiding bottles with his homemade spirits around the stables. Even I knew of a few of his hiding places.

I suddenly stiffen. Our workers weren’t supposed to be drinking when they were on duty. Should I come out and stop them? I already start to get up, then change my mind and quickly plop myself back to the ground. No, this is a bad idea. It is best if I let them be. They are simply celebrating, right?

I don’t even know why I am talking to myself inside my head. It is not like I ever get anything useful out of it. My aunt says it is a harmful habit and that I should stop doing it. But how can I? Most of the time I am alone and bored. What else am I supposed to do than talk to myself?

“… that I would know of. Hey, where is that new worker of yours? I thought he was supposed to arrive around noon,” a piece of a conversation travels to my ears, making me listen in more intently. We are getting a new worker? I didn’t know that. Would he be in the fields, or would he become a groomer in the stables?

“Yes, he was supposed to, I don’t know what is taking him so long. I told him where he must go, and I know he isn’t dim-witted,” another man replies, making a few of his companions laugh. I wait if there is anything else they are going to say about him, but nothing. They talk about utter nonsense, making me annoyed. Finally, I caught some interesting news, only to have them change the subject. How incredibly frustrating!

As I already think things couldn’t get more boring, I am proved quite the contrary. I hear some cheerful shouting, that already tempts me to get up and see what is happening. “At last! Welcome to the Ackers’ house, boy,” I hear a man say, making me jump in excitement. The new worker is here! Oh, I need to see him! No, I can’t. I must stay hidden. My Lord, this is pure torture!

“What do they call you, son?” another man asks, making me prick up my ears. I need to hear this, so I will know who he is, when someone calls him by his name. But the way I react in the next moment, completely catches me by surprise.

“My name is Azrael, sir, but everyone calls me Ezra,” a deep, but gentle voice travels to my ears, making me feel the need to jump on my feet and see who it belongs to. My stomach feels incredibly strange, as if it was tied into a knot and I suddenly find it hard to breath. “It is wonderful to make your acquaintance,” Azrael continues, making me place my hand on my chest without even realizing it. I can feel my heart thumping more rapidly than it usually does. What is this? What is happening to me?

“Welcome lad, no need to be so formal with us,” one of the men chuckles, and I hear a few thuds as he pats his back. I feel this deep urge to get up and take a look at this new worker. In fact, it is so strong, that I start convincing myself that I don’t care if the men are going to laugh when they see me. No, I have stayed hidden for way too long. I can’t show my face now.

But I desperately want to see our new worker. There is something about him that makes me feel as if the world might end if I am not able to connect that voice to a face. I make my decision, already pushing myself on my feet, when I realize the voices are fading away. Oh, no! Why is this happening just now that I’ve decided to take a peek?

I look through the hole only to see the last of the workers leaving through the door. I can’t believe this. I let out a frustrated sigh, turning around to look at my horse. “On the bright side, Phantom, we can finally go for a ride now,” I tell him. But neither of us seems particularly thrilled about it.

As I place the heavy saddle onto his back, the horse grunts lowly. I apologize to him quietly. It is not my fault the darned thing is so heavy! I look around as if anyone could hear what I was thinking inside my head. I almost laugh at how silly I am behaving. What is the matter with me? I hear a voice that I like, and I am suddenly making a fool of myself.

That said, no one can see me, so no one can actually think of me as a fool. I let out a heavy sigh. How pathetic am I, standing here, still talking to myself?

I shake my head to clear my thoughts, turning towards the horse again. I don’t like the way he is watching me, as if he knows exactly how silly I am. “Time to go, Phantom,” I say out loud to break the tension, then unlatch the door.

Phantom waits patiently as I lead him out and close the door after us, then climb on his back while clutching the reins in one hand. He lets out a soft snort, clearly tired of all the waiting. I squeeze him with my legs, making him move forward contentedly.

I just mean to rush past the house when I hear someone shouting from the doorstep. To my disdain, it is the head maid. She is in charge of my lessons while my aunt is away. I glance at the position of the sun on the sky, before slowing down and directing Phantom towards her.

The horse clearly shares my frame of mind, because he is barely moving his hoofs, and it takes us a long time to reach the front door. Mrs. Spinster is watching me silently with a stern expression on her face, a basket with freshly baked bread rolls resting in the crook of her elbow.

“I overheard you calling me, Mrs. Spinster, is something the matter?” I ask, dismounting the horse to show my respect. I don’t want her to think I am nothing but a spoiled brat. However, I am pretending to be daft at the moment, because I know perfectly well why she was calling after me.

The meeting that I witnessed cost me just enough time that I might be late for my sewing class. My teacher, Mrs. Brown, was supposed to come to the house just after lunchtime. Judging by the position of the sun on the sky, it was now noon. So, if I want to go for this ride, I will need to be as swift as the wind.

“You know what the matter is, lady Sophie. You should be eating lunch now, not riding a horse. You are going to get the barn stench on your dress! There is only about an hour left before Mrs. Brown arrives and by then, you should be seated in the drawing room, a needle in one hand and a cotton cloth in the other,” the head maid scolds me.

I stare at her for a few moments, silently contemplating her words. I do wish to be good and behave properly, like my aunt and her servants want me to, but I feel this pull that is leading me towards the fields. I can’t explain it, but I just know, that I need to get there.

So, despite knowing that I am going to be lectured about it afterwards, I jump forward, snatching a bread roll out of the basket and hop back on Phantom in a few swift movements. Before poor Mrs. Spinster gets back to her senses and starts calling after me again, I am already galloping away from the house, picking my usual path along the fields.

By the time I spot the first figures in the distance, I already finish my bread roll. I squeeze Phantom again, trying to make him gallop again. He obediently takes my command and I barely clutch the reins in time, almost getting flipped off his back.

When we get closer to the workers, I slightly tighten the reins, making Phantom slow down into a trot. “Good boy,” I murmur, my eyes searching the field. There are many people gathered in one spot, so I can barely take a proper look at anyone. But the faces I see are all familiar. I don’t see anyone new.

I frown in frustration. Was I only imagining this Azrael? Or did our workers know that I was in there and decided to pull a stunt on me? I almost pull the reins to turn Phantom around, when I notice someone in the group, who has their back turned against me. The others are mostly looking my way, some of them even greeting me with polite nods.

I just nod back, trying to get a better look at the mysterious man, when he finally rises from the ground and turns around. As I see him, I barely keep myself on top of Phantom. I breathe out, unable to tear my gaze off him. What a handsome man. This was so worth the lecturing that I am about to get.

His hair is a rich brown colour, my mind connecting it to a warm autumn afternoon. It is slightly wavy and slicked back, grown just a little over his sharp jawline. It is slicked back elegantly, perhaps not to bother him while he is working.

I could go on about his chiselled features forever, but in that moment, our gazes finally meet for the first time. Even from distance, I can tell his eyes are the darkest colour I have ever seen. But no matter how dangerous they might seem, they make me feel warm inside.