Categories > Original > Fantasy > God Has No Place Here
A New Perspective
1 reviewYoung Rosanne Cobbold lived a simple life, until she met a certian relative of a friend. This takes place at the beginning of the last chapter, but from Rosanne's perspective.
-1Predictable
((Boring you say? Too damn bad! Get over yourself and read the rest before saying that it's "boring". They live in sixteenth centurey England. Their lives were not very interesting, and I like to keep things cannon for the minor characters.))
Chapter 4
That same day. August 1929
The day had dawned early, and she had noticed. Rosanne had always woken up before her brothers, because if not her, who would make breakfast? She tossed off the thick woolen quilt and sat up, her fiery red curls bouncing as she did so.
"Why is it so cold in the morning? It's summer for heavens sake..." She mumbled under her breath as she stumbled out of bed, not too eager to get a start on the day. When she approached her bedroom door, she listened for a moment to see if anyone else in the family was awake. "Of course no one else is up, you are the crazy one." She stated with a wry smile.
She pulled open the door to reveal a long hallway, the rotten floor covered by an old threadbare rug that had once been red, and now was a vile shade of brown. She tiptoed past the two rooms that her seven brothers shared, past her parents' bedroom, and past the hall closet. As she descended the back stairs, she was careful to avoid the creaky steps that might cause Devon, the resident drama king of the family (who was a notoriously light sleeper), to awake.
Soon she had entered the small, cozy kitchen that was decorated with a number of spices and drying flowers placed in the windows by herself and her mother. Rosanne smiled at the memory of when she had been first taught how to gather these things from the garden. "But I must not dwell on such things, there is food to make." She said, pulling herself from her daydream.
The redhead then busied herself with removing the necessary pots and pans in order to make eggs and oatmeal. She then outstretched one freckled hand and took a long, thin strap of cloth from the window sill. She quickly tied back her unruly curls, and slid on a pair of slippers.
As she walked outside, she noticed that the day was not nearly as cold as it was in the house. Perhaps the sun had warmed the earth early? Whatever it was, it made it much easier for Rosanne to move the chickens off of their nests in order to grab a few eggs. With that done, she retrieved some water from the well and walked back inside the large, yet rundown house to fix breakfast for her brothers who would no doubt be hungry.
The morning progressed as usual, her brothers had stormed down the stairs, devoured their meal and set off on their own business to go and do lord knows what in the town. Rosanne and her mother exchanged glances as they cleaned the table.
"Rosanne," He father spoke as he descended the stairs. The girl in question looked up to find her father, who was in his best clothing.
"Yes, father?" She answered, eyeing the rather portly man suspiciously. He cleared his throat, signaling for the woman of the house to hand him something to eat. Rosanne's stout mother quickly began cutting a slice from a loaf of bread, almost tripping over her too-long steel blue dress.
"Now then, you very well know that you will be eligible to be courted very soon." He spoke quickly, as if he was short on time. "Today I shall begin visiting the houses of a few young men who would make suitable husbands." Rosanne had been dreading this day, she knew that her father would choose someone for their money, not for their looks or personality. And yet, Rosanne did not feel alone, as this was the fate of a hundred girls before her, and would be the fate of a hundred girls after her.
"Today I will visit the Benton's, their son is very hardworking and smart. He is also," He stopped for emphasis and perhaps to ponder a brilliant future. "first in line to his family's inheritance. You know of their famously large manor, yes? Not too far from here, just a two days trip away in North Yorkshire."
Rosanne nodded absently as she watched her mother place the newly toasted bread upon a plate and spread jelly upon it. "When will you be home?" She dared to ask, averting her eyes.
"A week," He took the toast from the plate. "Thank you dear, well, I am off to catch my carriage. Keep well, Dairine, Rosanne." He nodded to both women as he left the house and strode out of sight.
Rosanne's mother, Dairine, sighed heavily as she turned back and continued to wash the dishes in the large basin that was their sink.
Rosanne tried to block out the mind of the eldest son of the Benton's, she had seen him once or twice in town, and she didn't like him. He was tall and thin, with a leering glare that sent shivers down her spine. His eyes were so unsettling, they were a strange mixture of dark green and gold, and would seem to never stop staring.
"Well, your brothers are gone for the day. I suspect that you'll want out of the house as well, yea'?" Her mother asked in a defeated tone that was quite normal for her. Rosanne instantly brightened at the idea of leaving the dilapidated walls of her house, and she so wished to see Lucinda. She nodded furiously.
"That would be lovely mother." She said with a large grin that showed off her dimples.
"All right then, go on." Her mother dismissed her with a wave of her hand. Rosanne dashed back up the stairs before her mother could change her mind.
She made quick work of pulling on a pale pink dress, fixing her hair, and applying a bit of perfume to her neck. She sighed as she stepped in front of a mirror that was considerably smaller of that which hung in Lucinda's room.
"Much better." She said to herself, quite pleased actually. She began humming as she applied a bit of rouge and strode off down the stairs and out of the house.
It was about an hour before Rosanne arrived at the Branch manor, but she didn't mind. Although she never rode horses, the rosy haired girl was just as happy to walk and take in the sights around her.
As she approached the looming house, her breath caught. It was always so beautiful, what with its grandeur and all. She stepped lightly up the large stairs and came to the frightfully large door. She paused for a moment, inhaled, gripped the large metal knocker, and hit it three times against the door. It made a noise that was not pleasant, but certainly would not be unheard.
Rosanne waited for a few moments, wondering if perhaps Lucinda and her father had left to go on holiday. But soon enough the door opened a crack, it was a small plump maid.
"Hello!" Rosanne said brightly. "I'm hear to see Luci-errr Miss Branch. My name's Rosanne" She tried to remember her manners. The maid nodded. "Follow me." The maid turned on her heel and began to stride down the immense corridor. Rosanne followed quickly, trying to take in what part of the house this was.
She had never really ever gotten a proper look around the place, she and Lucinda were always dashing up to her room to giggle and chat, but she figured that this must be the north wing, as it looked as though it was never used.
They kept walking in silence, climbing stairs and turning corners. At one point, Rosanne was sure that she heard a scream, but it was gone as soon as it came. The maid soon led her to a familiar corridor.
"Fifth door on the left." The maid stated briskly as she disappeared around the corner that she came.
Rosanne began to think. "What would be the best way to announce that I'm here? Knock? Call out? Just open the door?" She asked, pressing herself to remember something, anything, from the etiquette that her mother had taught her so long ago.
As she reached to knock, she heard two voices, one distinctly Lucinda, and the other a male that she had never heard before. "I wonder...." She thought to herself as she pressed an ear to the door.
"What is this?" She heard a man ask. There was a silence that puzzled Rosanne. When the curiosity almost became too much to bare, she heard Lucinda's voice.
"That is my book." A pause came and went. "And... you have no reflection." Rosanne backed from the door, shocked and confused.
"What is this? A game? Everyone has a reflection!" She thought to herself. After she could take the silence no longer, she rapped her speckled knuckles upon the door.
"Who is it?" Lucinda snapped, the door remained closed.
"It's Rosanne!" She said in a false enthusiasm. The door swung open, to reveal a deathly pale Lucinda and an even paler male companion.
"Come in, come in!" Lucinda said, leading her into the room. Rosanne noticed how incredibly handsome the man was. She smiled and Lucinda smiled back, but there was a tension in the air.
"Did I interrupt something?" Rosanne asked, looking from Lucinda to the male. The man nodded. "Oh...well...umm..."
"Oh hush," Lucinda said to her cousin. "Rosanne, this is my cousin, Liam."
"How do you do." He said with a small smile. Liam stood and took one of her hands into his and pressed his lips to it. Rosanne gasped lightly as cool skin touched her hand. She began to flush as his brilliant turquoise eyes locked with hers.
"You're so cold." She stated rather tactlessly, as though she was caught in a trance.
"So I've been told." He shot a look towards Lucinda.
Lucinda meerly smiled pleasently. "Shall we ajourn to a room more suitable for conversation?" She asked as she grasped Rosanne firmly by the arm and lead her from the room, leaving Liam behind.
End Chapter Four
Chapter 4
That same day. August 1929
The day had dawned early, and she had noticed. Rosanne had always woken up before her brothers, because if not her, who would make breakfast? She tossed off the thick woolen quilt and sat up, her fiery red curls bouncing as she did so.
"Why is it so cold in the morning? It's summer for heavens sake..." She mumbled under her breath as she stumbled out of bed, not too eager to get a start on the day. When she approached her bedroom door, she listened for a moment to see if anyone else in the family was awake. "Of course no one else is up, you are the crazy one." She stated with a wry smile.
She pulled open the door to reveal a long hallway, the rotten floor covered by an old threadbare rug that had once been red, and now was a vile shade of brown. She tiptoed past the two rooms that her seven brothers shared, past her parents' bedroom, and past the hall closet. As she descended the back stairs, she was careful to avoid the creaky steps that might cause Devon, the resident drama king of the family (who was a notoriously light sleeper), to awake.
Soon she had entered the small, cozy kitchen that was decorated with a number of spices and drying flowers placed in the windows by herself and her mother. Rosanne smiled at the memory of when she had been first taught how to gather these things from the garden. "But I must not dwell on such things, there is food to make." She said, pulling herself from her daydream.
The redhead then busied herself with removing the necessary pots and pans in order to make eggs and oatmeal. She then outstretched one freckled hand and took a long, thin strap of cloth from the window sill. She quickly tied back her unruly curls, and slid on a pair of slippers.
As she walked outside, she noticed that the day was not nearly as cold as it was in the house. Perhaps the sun had warmed the earth early? Whatever it was, it made it much easier for Rosanne to move the chickens off of their nests in order to grab a few eggs. With that done, she retrieved some water from the well and walked back inside the large, yet rundown house to fix breakfast for her brothers who would no doubt be hungry.
The morning progressed as usual, her brothers had stormed down the stairs, devoured their meal and set off on their own business to go and do lord knows what in the town. Rosanne and her mother exchanged glances as they cleaned the table.
"Rosanne," He father spoke as he descended the stairs. The girl in question looked up to find her father, who was in his best clothing.
"Yes, father?" She answered, eyeing the rather portly man suspiciously. He cleared his throat, signaling for the woman of the house to hand him something to eat. Rosanne's stout mother quickly began cutting a slice from a loaf of bread, almost tripping over her too-long steel blue dress.
"Now then, you very well know that you will be eligible to be courted very soon." He spoke quickly, as if he was short on time. "Today I shall begin visiting the houses of a few young men who would make suitable husbands." Rosanne had been dreading this day, she knew that her father would choose someone for their money, not for their looks or personality. And yet, Rosanne did not feel alone, as this was the fate of a hundred girls before her, and would be the fate of a hundred girls after her.
"Today I will visit the Benton's, their son is very hardworking and smart. He is also," He stopped for emphasis and perhaps to ponder a brilliant future. "first in line to his family's inheritance. You know of their famously large manor, yes? Not too far from here, just a two days trip away in North Yorkshire."
Rosanne nodded absently as she watched her mother place the newly toasted bread upon a plate and spread jelly upon it. "When will you be home?" She dared to ask, averting her eyes.
"A week," He took the toast from the plate. "Thank you dear, well, I am off to catch my carriage. Keep well, Dairine, Rosanne." He nodded to both women as he left the house and strode out of sight.
Rosanne's mother, Dairine, sighed heavily as she turned back and continued to wash the dishes in the large basin that was their sink.
Rosanne tried to block out the mind of the eldest son of the Benton's, she had seen him once or twice in town, and she didn't like him. He was tall and thin, with a leering glare that sent shivers down her spine. His eyes were so unsettling, they were a strange mixture of dark green and gold, and would seem to never stop staring.
"Well, your brothers are gone for the day. I suspect that you'll want out of the house as well, yea'?" Her mother asked in a defeated tone that was quite normal for her. Rosanne instantly brightened at the idea of leaving the dilapidated walls of her house, and she so wished to see Lucinda. She nodded furiously.
"That would be lovely mother." She said with a large grin that showed off her dimples.
"All right then, go on." Her mother dismissed her with a wave of her hand. Rosanne dashed back up the stairs before her mother could change her mind.
She made quick work of pulling on a pale pink dress, fixing her hair, and applying a bit of perfume to her neck. She sighed as she stepped in front of a mirror that was considerably smaller of that which hung in Lucinda's room.
"Much better." She said to herself, quite pleased actually. She began humming as she applied a bit of rouge and strode off down the stairs and out of the house.
It was about an hour before Rosanne arrived at the Branch manor, but she didn't mind. Although she never rode horses, the rosy haired girl was just as happy to walk and take in the sights around her.
As she approached the looming house, her breath caught. It was always so beautiful, what with its grandeur and all. She stepped lightly up the large stairs and came to the frightfully large door. She paused for a moment, inhaled, gripped the large metal knocker, and hit it three times against the door. It made a noise that was not pleasant, but certainly would not be unheard.
Rosanne waited for a few moments, wondering if perhaps Lucinda and her father had left to go on holiday. But soon enough the door opened a crack, it was a small plump maid.
"Hello!" Rosanne said brightly. "I'm hear to see Luci-errr Miss Branch. My name's Rosanne" She tried to remember her manners. The maid nodded. "Follow me." The maid turned on her heel and began to stride down the immense corridor. Rosanne followed quickly, trying to take in what part of the house this was.
She had never really ever gotten a proper look around the place, she and Lucinda were always dashing up to her room to giggle and chat, but she figured that this must be the north wing, as it looked as though it was never used.
They kept walking in silence, climbing stairs and turning corners. At one point, Rosanne was sure that she heard a scream, but it was gone as soon as it came. The maid soon led her to a familiar corridor.
"Fifth door on the left." The maid stated briskly as she disappeared around the corner that she came.
Rosanne began to think. "What would be the best way to announce that I'm here? Knock? Call out? Just open the door?" She asked, pressing herself to remember something, anything, from the etiquette that her mother had taught her so long ago.
As she reached to knock, she heard two voices, one distinctly Lucinda, and the other a male that she had never heard before. "I wonder...." She thought to herself as she pressed an ear to the door.
"What is this?" She heard a man ask. There was a silence that puzzled Rosanne. When the curiosity almost became too much to bare, she heard Lucinda's voice.
"That is my book." A pause came and went. "And... you have no reflection." Rosanne backed from the door, shocked and confused.
"What is this? A game? Everyone has a reflection!" She thought to herself. After she could take the silence no longer, she rapped her speckled knuckles upon the door.
"Who is it?" Lucinda snapped, the door remained closed.
"It's Rosanne!" She said in a false enthusiasm. The door swung open, to reveal a deathly pale Lucinda and an even paler male companion.
"Come in, come in!" Lucinda said, leading her into the room. Rosanne noticed how incredibly handsome the man was. She smiled and Lucinda smiled back, but there was a tension in the air.
"Did I interrupt something?" Rosanne asked, looking from Lucinda to the male. The man nodded. "Oh...well...umm..."
"Oh hush," Lucinda said to her cousin. "Rosanne, this is my cousin, Liam."
"How do you do." He said with a small smile. Liam stood and took one of her hands into his and pressed his lips to it. Rosanne gasped lightly as cool skin touched her hand. She began to flush as his brilliant turquoise eyes locked with hers.
"You're so cold." She stated rather tactlessly, as though she was caught in a trance.
"So I've been told." He shot a look towards Lucinda.
Lucinda meerly smiled pleasently. "Shall we ajourn to a room more suitable for conversation?" She asked as she grasped Rosanne firmly by the arm and lead her from the room, leaving Liam behind.
End Chapter Four
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