The Sergeant's Kiss

On what appeared to be a clingy night in 1860, a woman in a plaid, off-the-shoulder wool dress sat down at a long couch, insisting that the piano keys would move on their own as she fixed her unwavering gaze on them. The entire space was silent, and everyone’s body hair stood up on end from the unnerving sense of isolation.

She felt nauseous as she pressed her big skirt’s creases.

For the nth time, the man who brought her the dress betrayed her.

At the top of the grandfather clock was a handwritten letter that was still intact. No matter how much she rubbed the dust from her eyes, the letters continued to appear unintentionally.

Then the door was knocked. The servant asked, “Mrs. Griffin, are you not coming out?” as she peered inside the dark music room.

“Your spouse has arrived already.”

The sound of clothes rustling in the couch crawled the ice terror on the servant’s skin. Rachel’s hidden figure caused the servant daring enough to swing the door by, offering a stronger light to her build.

She’s not wearing a corset, the servant thought.

The servant peered longer in her waist. Mrs. Griffin realized it.

“My hubby will be angry to discover I am not wearing one. Can you help me before I come down?”

***

Rachel Griffin strode around the corridors in long skirts and a squirmy corset.

She’s bloated as the days pass. Rachel desires to load in macaroons and delightful sweets inside her mouth currently, but her disinterested attitude can annoy Luther Griffin. As they entered the kitchen, the servants set the table in the style of a royal family feast.

How many meals will your slaves put on the table, Luther asked with a disgruntled expression. Only the two of us are here. We are not a member of the Victoria family.

Rachel said, “Good evening, my beloved husband,” as she undid the lace straws on her bonnet.

Rachel grumbled and took one of the steak knives while adjusting her voluminous skirt at the table.

A wealthy man who graduated from the Victorian School of Law, Luther Griffin, married Rachel Han, the youngest daughter of one of Wales’s wealthiest families, the Han family. She is a housewife who spends much of her time playing the piano in the music room. Every day at noon, she gives the servants orders to clean the house. Particularly those criminals who suffered after the Potato Famine, Luther is busy with cases.

Their wedding day went off without a hitch. Yet on the same day, five years later, the love in their eyes vanished, replaced by melancholy and gloom. Rachel’s hubby is out of reach and is as cold as ice. She struggled to strike a balance between her genuine instincts. Rachel began to fool herself, thinking that Luther is just tired.

“Did you forget about this day? Or are you faking it by forgetting what’s special today?”

Without first settling her stomach, Rachel is hesitant to eat. The food is right nearby.

Luther ignored his wife’s glare as he drank the berry wine from his goblet. Before responding, he nibbled on a steak and said, “Just keep eating. What is special today is irrelevant to me.”

The housekeeper was given a quick glance by the servants as they replaced the empty plates. She is not moved.

Rachel remained motionless for a moment before clanging her utensils onto her plate. Luther was startled by the loud noise it made. His revolting response ignited Rachel’s fury. She stood up, banged the table, and her eyes became narrowed.

“You’re not interested in today’s specials, are you? I want to hear what you said again, Mr. Griffin.”

Using his fork and spoon, Luther made the same motion. He used a moist handkerchief to wipe the corners of his mouth.

“Could you calm down and eat? Rachel, I don’t want to argue with you. Don’t interfere with my relaxation; I’ve been to a mess outside the mansion. I’m just allowed to eat now!” Luther shouted louder.

“When you make a fool of me, Luther, you have the audacity to eat! I’m sick of following you around like a dog!” Rachel screamed.

“I’m not your maid.” When Luther got up, he jerkily pushed the seat back.

“Mrs. Rachel Griffin, I’m not treating you like a servant. How can you say that when you are my wife?”

Luther made an open-arm gesture. When Rachel saw that he didn’t take off his tail and furry coat, she became enraged. At the head of the table is Luther’s bowler hat. He transgressed the law twice.

“Please bring me the letter I found in the bird’s nest on top of my piano this morning. I want to present it to your boss.” Rachel turned to the maid, who quickly complied. Rachel clenched her hands as she heard the sound of her steps descending the majestic staircase.

A wedding anniversary ought to be a calm, perfect occasion that only happens once a year. Rachel enjoyed strolling through Griffin’s mansion’s high grounds with him while the moon was full. All of the memories Rachel had engraved into her head vanished instantly after reading that letter.

“I just want to eat, Rachel.”

He gasped frantically, “I’m too tired of dealing with your self-indulgent behavior. Incapable of resisting her husband’s commands.”

Rachel let him take a seat. He will undoubtedly ask afterwards.

Rachel swung open the letter wide when the butler returned.

“To the respectable and honorable Mrs. Rachel Griffin…”

Luther placed the dishes down and became helpless in the face of his wife’s dominance.

“It’s good to know you’re doing well today. When you were buying some clothes for your sewing sessions with the local women, I saw you in the market. Every time you’re in the bar, I can hear your music, and I enjoy the way you connect notes to create a symphonic sound that I’ve never heard from anybody else but you.”

While absurdly reading an adulation letter, Luther observed his wife.

“Mrs. Griffin, you have my utmost admiration. I had a dream that I was you and saw how harmonious your life has been.”

His wife turned to face him, and he arched a brow. There was no way to hide his guilt.

“Yet in keeping with my affection, I have some scandalous news to share with you. It concerns Luther Griffin, the local attorney and your husband.”

Luther’s hands became too cold to pick up some hard-boiled eggs.

“I saw him waiting for someone one night at the Heartless Pub, where you both work. I mistook it for you. You wouldn’t believe the dishonest situation I saw, Mrs. Griffin. Amira Edwidge, the Minister of Justice, was a seductive woman who captivated every male, including myself, when Luther Griffin wrapped one arm over her shoulders.”

After snatching the letter out of his wife’s hands and meeting her across the table, Luther got up from the table. The servants turned back when they noticed a storm brewing above their heads. Luther threw the utensils at the table.

Tears filled Rachel’s eyes to the brim. Luther sputtered.

“That’s crazy. How are you able to read that to me? I feel so belittled by that, Rachel!”

“He has been sending me letters with the anonymous code E before we got married.”

“So why do you think that? Why do you treat me like I’m garbage?”

“Because, Luther, you are! It’s not the first time I’ve gotten a letter like that! I keep track of the number of times you’ve hindered me, and you continue to irritate me every day!”

Rachel gasped, her accentuated British speech sounding outraged and full of emphasis. Two sets of eyes glistened with tears and regrets in the ruddy arc light in the center of the extended table. Luther gritted his jaw and nodded carefully before bursting into laughter.

Well, he said, “I do have one.”

Because of the collapse of his love, Rachel is no longer welcome.

“We have a special day today, but you’re so exhausted that you don’t remember it. Or is it that you’re tired, which is why… You don’t recall exactly what occurred to us five years ago, do you?”

Her heart was gashed by Rachel’s tears. Luther’s eyes sparkled with recognition.

He doesn’t acknowledge their wedding anniversary for a split second. He now does it with one snap.

“Luther, you ponderously broke my heart into a ton of pieces. I feel so defeated around you!”

She stormed out of the dining table after turning around and straightening her long skirt.

“Rachel!” yelled Luther.