Unlaced: A Socialite's Romance

At last Emily Lang had yielded to the pressing request of her Aunt

Jennifer, and promised to attend the ball to be given at the house of

Noah Sampson, the CEO of Sampson Trust Inc. It was true that Emily

had initially rejected the invitation on the grounds that her

husband, Harrison Lang, a rival CEO, was away on a business trip and

would not be back until the next day. But Aunt Jennifer had persisted

and urged her niece to attend. She earnestly wanted Emily to chaperon

her daughter, Bridget, who was making her debut into society that

evening.

Bridget

herself had been texting Emily nonstop urging her to come. Bridget

didn't want to go to the ball under the strict eyes of her mother,

but Emily was different. Emily was young, vivacious, and popular.

Bridget could talk to her about things she dared not mention to her

mother and ask her all the questions that Jennifer had avoided

answering. In the end the mother and daughter had worn Emily down.

The day before the ball, Emily sent an email to Mrs. Sampson, typing

a few hasty lines explaining that she had changed her mind and wished

to attend after all.

Now,

however, Emily regretted that she had not remained firm and insisted

on stay home. She felt a strange dislike against the Sampsons, a kind

of superstitious aversion. Though they were rivals in business her

husband and Noah Sampson were on good terms, but Emily had never

taken to them. There were unhappy memories there too.

It

was at another one of the Sampson's balls, nearly five years ago,

that she, as an unusually vivacious nineteen-year-old girl, was

introduced into society; it was there that she had met Harrison Lang;

it was there, too, that afterwards she met another young man, Mark

Rayner – 'wicked' Mark Rayner, as he was then called. What had

transpired between still brought upper bitter recollections which

would always be associated with the Sampson family and their annual

ball.

"In

life, everything repeats itself," she murmured, as she seated

herself at the large window, and thoughtfully gazed out upon the

dazzling white park, in which the walks were covered with a thick

soft sheet of snow, like a robe of white plush. The snow, that had

for hours been incessantly and ominously falling from the December

skies, and found for itself lodging for itself upon the trees,

marking out in a rude fashion the delicate lines of their branches

and twigs, and penetrating even into the hollows of their somber

trunks.

"Everything

repeats itself!"

Emily uttered a deep sigh. The events of the last few days recalled to her

mind with vivid accuracy all the circumstances that had attended the

decisive step of her life. True, another was now playing the chief

role – her charmingly fresh and unsuspecting cousin Bridget, who

was gazing laughingly out into the world with her wonderful, large,

dark brown, innocent eyes – but the drama was the same. In Emily's

case it had become a tragedy; she hoped that Bridget's case would end

happier.

Today, Just five years ago, on a very similar winter day, her Uncle Branson

had come to town accompanied by his wife, her father's sister

Jennifer, for the purpose in participating in the Shamrock

Corporation's annual board meeting, on which Uncle Branson sat.

Emily, who had been raised by her aunt and uncle since her parents

had died, was also there. She understood what was expected of her

from the very start. Emily was now nearing her early twenties and it

was expected that she would go out into the world and find a husband,

preferably one who would help elevated her aunt and uncle's prestige.

Emily would have been happy to remain outside the spotlight, she had been

very happy living out of the city; but she regarded Aunt Jennifer and

Uncle Branson with great reverence. She wanted nothing more than to

please him, though the thought of having to leave home was daunting.

Bridget had been two-years-old when the nine-year-old Emily had come to live

with the family, and the two girls had become close. To Bridget,

Emily was family, whether she was a sister or a cousin did not

matter.

Emily's

mother had died when she was very young, and she could not remember

her. When she was nine she lost her father as well, to a slow and

agonizing battle with cancer. Even her father's appearance hovered

before her mind's eye only in dark and confused outlines. She only

knew that as long she could remember she seen a strange bald and pale

ma pushed around in a wheelchair by an attendant, and she was

conducted to him several times a day, and called him daddy; but he

had rarely had the strength to speak to her and in the end she had to

accept she had never really been able to know him. When he died she

had cried with everyone else at the funeral, though the truth was she

already lost him long ago. Then she had been sent to Canmore Estate,

to live with Uncle Branson and Aunt Jennifer and this she considered

her true childhood home. It was not long before she had all but

forgotten that she had ever belonged anywhere else. This was her true

home.

Emily

had grown from a young girl into an attractive, bright, and vivacious

young girl, perhaps a little too vivacious, excitable and nervous.

But it 'suited her', as her aunt used to say.

Emily

was so much always on edge, that when one said "Good morning," to

her, her deep brown eyes would flash up brilliantly, and when she

disagreed with anyone about any matter, however small, her forehead

would contract in deep folds, and she would knit her heavy brows. She

had an unusually delicate physique; her hands and feet were quite

small, her head was also small and round, and her complexion a pale

bronze, she had rosy lips, a slender nose with delicately sensitive

nostrils. Her hair was of a deep blue-black and fell in natural

ringlets over her forehead and temples. Her best feature however were

her sparkling eyes, a deep brown in color, protected by long, glossy

black lashed and crowned with heavy, sickle-shaped eyebrows.

Emily

was also notably spoiled, the result of having an ailing father and

an indulgent nanny. While she retained a pleasant and merry

personality, she expected to be given beautiful things, and her

indulgent aunt and uncle had continued the trend. She had no idea the

real value of money and would spend her way into ruin if she was not

properly managed. Emily in particular had love for costly lace.

Perhaps because it was one of the few links she had to her mother.

Sophia had loved to wear lace and her daughter had inherited a large

collection of lacy gowns from her.

Emily's

fascination with lace had gone so far as to learn the art of

lacemaking herself, something which surprised her aunt. Emily had no

interest or talent for other artistic hobbies. Eventually Jennifer

had agreed and allowed her niece to pursue lessons. She showed an

unusual aptitude for the craft and now, much of the décor in her

home included some form of lace.

Jennifer

and Branson adored Emily as if she had been their own daughter.

Branson had wanted to put off introducing her into society for

another year or two. She was the sunshine of their family and it was

too soon for her to leave. Jennifer, however, had reminded him that

now that Emily was of age it was time to start planning her future

and find a suitable husband.

Emily

uttered a deep sigh. The events of the last few days recalled to her

mind with vivid accuracy all the circumstances that had attended the

decisive step of her life. True, another was now playing the chief

role – her charmingly fresh and unsuspecting cousin Bridget, who

was gazing laughingly out into the world with her wonderful, large,

dark brown, innocent eyes – but the drama was the same. In Emily's

case it had become a tragedy; she hoped that Bridget's case would end

happier.

Today,

Just five years ago, on a very similar winter day, her Uncle Branson

had come to town accompanied by his wife, her father's sister

Jennifer, for the purpose in participating in her the Shamrock

Corporation's annual board meeting, on which Uncle Branson sat.

Emily, who had been raised by her aunt and uncle since her parents

had died, was also there. She understood what was expected of her

from the very start. Emily was now nearing her early twenties and it

was expected that she would go out into the world and find a husband,

preferably one who would help elevated her aunt and uncle's prestige.

Emily

would have been happy to remain outside the spotlight, she had been

very happy living out of the city; but she regarded Aunt Jennifer and

Uncle Branson with great reverence. She wanted nothing more than to

please him, though the thought of having to leave home was daunting.

Bridget

had been two-years-old when the nine-year-old Emily had come to live

with the family, and the two girls had become close. To Bridget,

Emily was family, whether she was a sister or a cousin did not

matter.

Emily's

mother had died when she was very young, and she could not remember

her. When she was nine she lost her father as well, to a slow and

agonizing battle with cancer. Even her father's appearance hovered

before her mind's eye only in dark and confused outlines. She only

knew that as long she could remember she seen a strange bald and pale

ma pushed around in a wheelchair by an attendant, and she was

conducted to him several times a day, and called him daddy; but he

had rarely had the strength to speak to her and in the end she had to

accept she had never really been able to know him. When he died she

had cried with everyone else at the funeral, though the truth was she

already lost him long ago. Then she had been sent to Canmore Estate,

to live with Uncle Branson and Aunt Jennifer and this she considered

her true childhood home. It was not long before she had all but

forgotten that she had ever belonged anywhere else. This was her true

home.

Emily

had grown from a young girl into an attractive, bright, and vivacious

young girl, perhaps a little too vivacious, excitable and nervous.

But it 'suited her', as her aunt used to say.

Emily

was so much always on edge, that when one said "Good morning," to

her, her deep brown eyes would blash up brilliantly, and when she

disagreed with anyone about any matter, however small, her forehead

would contract in deep folds, and she would knit her heavy brows. She

had an unusually delicate physique; her hands and feet were quite

small, her head was also small and round, and her complexion a pale

bronze, she had rosy lips, a slender nose with delicately sensitive

nostrils. Her hair was of a deep blue-black and fell in natural

ringlets over her forehead and temples. Her best feature however were

her sparkling eyes, a deep brown in color, protected by long, glossy

black lashed and crowned with heavy, sickle-shaped eyebrows.

Emily

was also notably spoiled, the result of having an ailing father and

an indulgent nanny. While she retained a pleasant and merry

personality, she expected to be given beautiful things, and her

indulgent aunt and uncle had continued the trend. She had no idea the

real value of money and would spend her way into ruin if she was not

properly managed. Emily in particular had love for costly lace.

Perhaps because it was one of the few links she had to her mother.

Sophia had loved to wear lace and her daughter had inherited a large

collection of lacy gowns from her.

Emily's

fascination with lace had gone so far as to learn the art of

lacemaking herself, something which surprised her aunt. Emily had no

interest or talent for other artistic hobbies. Eventually Jennifer

had agreed and allowed her niece to pursue lessons. She showed an

unusual aptitude for the craft and now, much of the décor in her

home included some form of lace.

Jennifer

and Branson adored Emily as if she had been their own daughter.

Branson had wanted to put off introducing her into society for

another year or two. She was the sunshine of their family and it was

too soon for her to leave. Jennifer, however, had reminded him that

now that Emily was of age it was time to start planning her future

and find a suitable husband.