Eighteen-year-old Taylor, the oldest son of a nobleman, stared out the window of his father's estate.
It's just not fair, he thought. In three months he was expected to marry Lady Elizabeth, whose father was another nobleman of the same rank as Taylor's father. Elizabeth was, to put it nicely, a brat. She was the only child in her family, so she had been spoiled completely rotten by her parents. Plus, Taylor knew she was secretly pining after the prince himself. She considered someone of her own rank to be below her; she thought she deserved a prince. This, however, would be the one time when she wouldn't get her way. Neither Taylor nor Elizabeth wanted to get married, but neither of them had a choice.
Three months later...
Taylor and Elizabeth walked down the aisle together. Elizabeth's long blond hair was elaborately curled and braided, and she looked beautiful in a white and gold dress. Her blue eyes showed no hint of the rebellion she was feeling; neither did they show any of the joy she should have felt. Taylor's blue eyes showed only resignment to his "fate".
After the wedding feast was through, Lady Elizabeth arrived at Taylor's home in her carriage along with all of her belongings and servants. One of the servants, Elizabeth's closest and most trusted, was named Monica. As Taylor looked into her blue-green eyes for the first time, he felt something he had never felt before. He didn't know what it was, or even how to describe it, but he knew that he liked the feeling. He could see that she felt it too, whatever it was.
The next day...
"Monica, get in here!" yelled Lady Elizabeth impatiently. She waited a minute, then called again. "MONICA!!!"
Monica entered the room nervously. "Yes, my lady?"
"Go to the market, right now! We are practically out of food!"
Monica waited a few minutes before asking, "Is that all, my lady?"
"Are you daring to talk back to me?!" Elizabeth said angrily, slapping Monica on the face. "Just go. Now."
Meanwhile, Taylor was listening to their conversation through the wall. He didn't like what he heard. His wife was abusing her maid. After hearing this, he knew for certain that he shouldn't have married her, but it was too late now. But his wife would not get away with slapping Monica. He knew that. He hurried out the door to try to catch up with Monica.
At the market
Monica walked through the rows of shops, looking for food that would be acceptable to the picky Lady Elizabeth. All of a sudden, a male voice caught her by surprise.
"Good morning. Monica, isn't it?"
Monica looked behind her to see Taylor, her lady's husband. What is he doing here? And why is he stooping to speak to me? Then she remembered that he was waiting for an answer. "Yes, my lord," she replied softly, looking at the ground.
"Um...if it's not too much to ask, would you please look at me when I talk to you? I've never really liked talking to the tops of people's heads."
Monica could not believe what she was hearing. Was this young man, her own lady's husband, actually talking to her as an equal? She was not used to being asked to do anything. All her life, she had served Lady Elizabeth, who always ordered her around. She looked up, and even smiled slightly.
Taylor returned the smile. "That's much better. Now...the reason I wanted to talk to you. I heard my wife this morning...um...do something she really shouldn't have. She slapped you, didn't she?"
"Yes, my lord," Monica replied, and then added quietly, "but it's all right. I'm used to it. It's not like I deserve any different."
Taylor was shocked to hear such words coming out of the girl's mouth. He knew that servants had never been thought of as equals; his parents would have died before they treated the servants as they themselves would prefer to be treated. But Taylor had never really shared their point of view. In his opinion, all people were the same; some luckier than others, but still equal.
"Monica," Taylor began, reaching to take her hand. Monica gasped and pulled away. Taylor removed his hand and looked the girl in the eye. When she turned away, he spoke again. "Monica, listen to me. This is not your fault. You do not deserve to be treated like this. No one does. I'll discuss this with my wife. I will not tolerate treatment like this, for anyone."
She turned back to him slowly. "Please, my lord...please don't say anything to my lady. She'll just get worse."
"Not if she wants me to allow her to live in my home, she won't." Then he leaned toward her. "And, Monica? How old are you?"
This was the last thing she expected. "Sixteen, my lord," she said quietly.
He smiled at her. "I am only eighteen...only two years older than you. I'm not old enough for you to call me 'my lord'. Would you please call me by name? Or is there something wrong with the name Taylor?"
Monica actually laughed a little. "No, my...Taylor, there is nothing wrong with the name."
Taylor smiled with satisfaction. "Good. Now...what is it you're looking for here?"
Monica had nearly forgotten about her errand. "Oh, I'm getting food for my lady."
"Food?! We have lots of food at home already!"
"She doesn't seem to like it much. She gave me a list of what she wants." She handed Taylor the paper.
After scanning the list, Taylor was annoyed. "There is no reason for her to need all this food! If she doesn't like what we have, she'll just have to go hungry." As Monica turned pale with fear, Taylor turned back to her. "And don't worry about her mistreating you. She won't dare to, not unless she wants to be sent back to her parents in disgrace."
Shocked, Monica spoke up. "You...you'd do that? For me?"
"Yes, I would. We have something very special here, Monica...a very special friendship just beginning that I do not wish to lose."
"Friendship? How can we be friends? You're a noble, while I'm only a servant."
"Monica, I don't care about our statuses. You are my friend, and I hope I am yours."
Slowly, Monica responded, "Yes, Taylor, you are my friend."
"Good," Taylor smiled. "Now then, would you like a ride home? Or would you care to walk around for a while, since you don't have anything else to do?"
Monica looked down. "I'd like to go walking, but..."
"But what?" Taylor asked.
"What will I tell my lady when I come home late and without the things on her list? She'll be furious, and she'll take it out on me." Monica smiled sadly, then added, "I know what you said, Taylor, and I'm glad you'd like to help, but there's really nothing you can do. My lady is just like that. If you try to change her, she'll know something's going on." She turned away. "With your permission, my lord, I'll go now to purchase these items for my lady."
Taylor was slightly hurt at her impersonal tone of voice. Then he realized that she was right, that there was nothing he could do...yet. But it won't stay that way, he vowed. Somehow, I will help her. I'll find a way.
"I really wish there was something I could do, Monica," he said softly. "But I guess you're right. Still, can't you return to calling me Taylor? Just when Elizabeth's not here?"
"All right...Taylor," Monica whispered before hurrying away.
Over the next few weeks, Taylor and Monica met more and more frequently. Taylor realized for the first time that he was in love with Monica. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about it. He was a married man, and so it was too late for love in his life, or so he thought.
Meanwhile, Monica knew she was beginning to fall in love with Taylor also. But, like him, she knew there was nothing she could do. He was married, and therefore unavailable. Monica wished more than anything that Lady Elizabeth had moved to Taylor's estates before they had wed. That way, Monica would have met Taylor before the wedding, and maybe he would not have wed Lady Elizabeth. But with the situation like it was, there was nothing either of them could do.
One night, months after their first encounter, Taylor and Monica were walking through the woods near Taylor's house. Taylor finally decided that no matter what, he had to tell Monica how he felt.
"Monica," he began.
"Hmm?" Monica was slightly distracted by the beauty of the evening and by Taylor's presence by her side.
"There is something that I must tell you, now." He cleared his throat. "Monica...I love you."
Monica gasped in horror. "No!" She looked at him, her eyes pleading. "Don't say that...please don't say that."
"I've tried to deny it, but I can't. Right or wrong, I do love you. I won't ask you to say the same, because I can see you won't accept it, but I had to tell you."
Monica said slowly, "Taylor...I do love you. It's just that...this is wrong. You're married. We can't do anything about this feeling, so why should we even acknowledge it? It will only lead to trouble; you know that as well as I do."
"Monica, please! Just listen. I know I have a wife. I know we cannot really do anything about our love. But please...don't let it die! Don't deny what you feel. Please."
Monica sighed, a deep heart-felt sigh. "All right. You're right. It's no good to ignore it. I love you, Taylor."
Taylor leaned over and put his arms around Monica. Slowly, their lips met in a kiss that symbolized not only their love, but their unspoken promise to never again tempt fate as they were doing at that moment.
Little did they know, their promise had not been unseen.
Monica entered the house that night, happier than she had ever been in her life. But as she entered her room, which connected to Lady Elizabeth's rooms, she saw Elizabeth herself standing in the doorway. Monica's heart sank when she saw the glare on Elizabeth's face. Slowly, she walked up to the door and started to pass Elizabeth when she was grabbed and whirled to face her.
"How dare you! How dare you!!" Elizabeth slapped her across the face.
"What do you mean, my lady?" Monica asked quietly, though she feared she already knew the answer.
"You know exactly what I mean, you little brat! The groom was out in the woods this evening, and guess what he told me that he saw!"
"I don't know, my lady," Monica answered honestly, for she did not know for certain that she and Taylor had been seen.
"He saw you walking with my husband!!!" Another slap. "And that's not all; not in the least. He was not close enough that he could hear what you were saying; more's the pity. But he didn't have to hear...what he saw was enough. He saw Taylor kissing you!!!!!" Elizabeth was shrieking at the top of her lungs by this time. She ran at Monica and threw her to the floor.
The last thing Monica felt was a blow to her head before the world went black.
Taylor entered the courtyard of his house a few minutes later, humming to himself. He entered the house and was just about to go to his room and think when Lady Elizabeth came into the room.
"Taylor," she said haughtily, "I simply must insist that you allow me to dismiss Monica from my services. She is reaching far above her station, and I will not have it!"
When he heard his wife's words, Taylor turned cold with fear. "Where is she?"
"She's in her room. Of course, I was forced to discipline her for her actions." Elizabeth turned to leave the room, but turned back to add, "I want her gone by morning."
Taylor ran upstairs to Monica's room, fearing what he would find. He reached the doorway, then stopped in his tracks, gasping in horror at what he saw.
Monica was lying on the floor, not moving. Taylor ran to her and knelt by her side. "Please, Monica...please wake up," he murmured. "Please be all right...please."
After what seemed like an eternity to Taylor, Monica's eyes slowly drifted open. She blinked a few times, then whispered, "T..Taylor?"
"Shh...I'm here," Taylor reassured her. "Everything's going to be fine."
This comment woke Monica completely. She sat up, despite Taylor's efforts to keep her lying down. "No, Taylor, everything will not be fine."
Monica's words shocked Taylor into replying, "What do you mean? I'm going to send Elizabeth back to her parents...after this, she is no fit wife for me. And I'll keep you here, so she'll never bother you again."
"You don't understand," Monica said weakly. "Send your wife away if you prefer, but it won't do any good for me."
"What..." Taylor started to say before he realized what she was talking about. "No, Monica. You are not going to die. Don't even think that! You're going to get better, and then we can get married, and..."
"Taylor, stop," whispered Monica. "Stop fooling yourself. I am going to die. I know that, and I have accepted it. I know it is my time."
At these words, Taylor finally realized that she was right. He couldn't keep the tears from coming. "Monica..."
"Shh," said Monica, softer than ever. "Just listen for a minute. Until it is your turn, please, promise me something, my love."
"Anything," Taylor promised with tears running down his face.
"Promise me that you won't forget me."
"I could never forget you, love. I promise."
"Thank you. And I know that, somehow, we will meet again. I don't know how, but we will meet again. So please don't let this ruin your chance for happiness. Be happy and enjoy life while you can, and never forget me, my love." She closed her eyes.
Taylor followed through on his promise, or at least tried to. He attempted to enjoy his life, and there were times when he actually found himself smiling, or even laughing. But he never forgot Monica.
Part Two
Forever and a Day
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