Rebirth to Ruin

[Marjorie St. Clair]

Usually someone would be upset by the fact they were being sold off to repay a debt owed, used as property and not as a person. Typically, especially a woman, they would be so upset they'd be crying in their rooms with the doors shut tight and weeping over their pillows about wishing they were dead instead of being traded for 'a good time'. It was a good thing that Marjorie wasn't one of the usual females in such a scenario as she was going to be living it shortly.

The day had arrived and Marjorie felt grateful for it. When her father had first told her that he was using her as a way to get himself (and his wife and other children) out of a huge debt, she had been rather angry. How dare he trade her off like a cow or a mule. She knew well it was because she didn't act her part. She didn't want to act her part. She wanted to play in the mud and run through the woods rather than drink tea and eat biscuits. Marjorie had always gone against the grain, even as a babe, and it continued well into her teen years. So when she was becoming 18 with no suitors, rather than be the embrassing spinster of the family, they were going to marry her off against her will. But as the day drew nearer and nearer, she was glad for it. She figured her 'marriage' was going to be a farce anyway, like most of the marriages of any nobles. Being married, she'd probably have more freedoms to do what she enjoyed (though she did enjoy gardening, oddly enough. But you still played in the dirt. So go figure). She'd just be known as the wild and crazy nature nut that was married to...who was it again? It didn't matter. She'd just use the same stealth and cunning she used in her ancestral home to get away when she needed to and get back in when she had to. That was the hand dealt to her, the skillset she obtained, by feeling entrapped in an elegant world she felt wrongly birthed into.

As she paced in her room, looking out the window down the driveway in anticipation, she suddenly felt...sick. Sick to her stomach with nerves, because suddenly she began to think about who this new husband of hers could be. Was he sickly and old? Was he going to demand things of her she'd had no clue how to do? Was she going to get beaten into submission? She had fight but nothing that could save her from a rough new husband who wanted to mold her into the perfect wife. Marjorie's eyes darted to her door and back to the window. She could do it. She could escape and run off before he got there. She had a whole plan in her head, until a carriage was seen in the not too far off distance with valiant dark steeds at the helm, approaching the estate and all she could do was wrap her shawl tighter around her shoulders, take a deep breath, and stand tall.

This isn't the end of you Marjorie. This is a new beginning. A better life.

OOC: Current Dress // Reuben Slade

[Reuben Slade]

Tag: Marjorie St. Clair
Note: Building up the suspense of their first meeting! Hope it's ok!

what doesn't

KILL ME BETTER RUN

This was something Slade never thought that he would do. Getting married. His struggles with skin to skin contact greatly hindered him in exploring physical intimacy. And his very nature prevented him from building strong emotional connections. And yet here he was. Planning on getting married. And to what? Settle a debt. Granted, it was a rather large debt and Slade figured he could use this position to his advantage. The Duke was well connected. It would help Rueben's enterprise grow and if all it cost was a wife . . . then he would make the exchange. That being said, he knew he had to make a few things clear with her. For this would not be what one may consider a normal arrangement. But then, having done his research and looking into the family . . . she did not seem like the typical noblewoman.

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

Once he arrived at her estate, Slade exited the carriage, being escorted inside and it was stated that they would send for Marjorie. The woman who would be his wife. He did not even know what she looked like, though amidst his research it was said that she was quite beautiful. Beauty however did not matter to the crime lord. He cared not for her appearance, not even her manner. This was a business exchange and a chance for her as well. All other aspects to marriage would deviate from societal norms. So all he could do was wait for her, and see where this path led them both.

[Marjorie St. Clair]

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Marjorie had not been sitting in her window when Slade had exited his carriage. She had still been pacing, waiting for the call from her lady in waiting (the last call she'd ever make to get her, would she be out of a job then? Hmm.). Her father had told her to not worry about her affairs, her things, as he'd send them along once she was settled in. That he had apparently arranged for some of her things to already have been sent and settled. She could hardly believe him but what else was she going to do without luggage? She merely rolled her eyes and at least made sure she had one of her favorite gowns on her body 'at the time of the exchange' to ensure she had at least one decent outfit to wear for the rest of forever. The absolute nerve of the man who was supposed to be supportive and loving, right?

Finally her maid came to her door and she heard the tapping of the dainty little fist on the other side. Marjorie shouldered a sigh, lifted her chin up, and moved to the door, opening it effortlessly and seeing her maid's waiting gaze. "He is here my lady." Her maid responded, curtsying and moving out of the way.

Marjorie's maid showed no other emotion than just complacency but deep down she was thrilled, because Marjorie was such a pain to tend to. Dirty beyond belief, always missing or running, never letting anyone know where she was. Thankfully her boss never blamed her and so she still had a job here (and would continue to do so for the duchess of the estate instead!). So to say she was sad to see her go was a lie, but she would act the part diligently. It wasn't because she wasn't nice, because Marjorie was quite pleasant, but no more running through the woods to find her, that's what she looked forward to most.

Marjorie made her way down the hall, down the grand staircase of the estate, and finally heard the gentle click of her shoes on the paved entry hall. She kept her chin up, her expression stoic but soft, and came to a halt in her steps. First impressions weren't bad. At least he wasn't a one eyed hunchback. He was handsome. So at least in this arranged marriage she'd have something nice to look at every now and then. She nodded her head, did a little bit of a respectful curtsy, and brought her hands in front of her, clasping fingers together. "Lord Slade, I presume? A pleasure, I am Marjorie St. Clair."

Reuben Slade

thanks aofie!