Louisa nodded, put at ease when Belle told her where they were going. “Alright. I highly doubt you can manage to get in trouble in a library. I suppose I shall come with you. Besides, you know how much I enjoy the library. Let us make haste, but quietly.” Hearing Belle’s confession regarding her sister, Louisa’s mouth opened. “I see. I wish her the very best with her pregnancy. Please send her my regards in your next letter home.” Louisa showed no emotion on her face, and her voice was monotone, but she truly meant it. Listening to Belle talk, Louisa sighed. “I believe you at least have the right to meet the man. He is the father of your niece, after all…” Louisa pressed her lips into a thin line after hearing the Fleur family drama. “This is precisely why I stay away from people, despite the pleas of my parents. They believe it rude, yet I believe it to be even more rude if I were to slap someone for annoying me.”
@Kristi - Belle
“You could actually, the school can be quite strict at times but we are Belle and Louisa,” Belle said taken her friend’s hand into her’s, “It’s quite hard to get into trouble when it’s us, we are quite favorable in the eyes and highly intelligent.” It was a good thing Belle had preferred reading and creative works to all the boring things like learning about marriages, how to take care of a baby and ‘being a good wife’ such a thing was unfavorable to Belle. At the end it seemed to work because Belle’s mind was as a knife, it helped her when she had to to lie, find her way around places and write. Intelligence was a gift after all, and this might sound prideful, if it is then it is what it is, Belle was not brought into the world to live her life to please people- she was not here to be liked but to live. As they prepared to go to the library, Belle draping herself with a cloak she had sewn herself and quite liked, they began chatting about Belle’ s sister, Josephine.
“My regards shall be sent, but really I am already sure Josephine has a lot of people happy for her and as you are a friend attached to my hips, Josephine knows you are happy for her.'” Belle said rolling her eyes, “Though, truthfully I have not talked to Josephine much since some holidays ago.” As soon as Josephine got married, Belle had not heard much from her. True, at first it was because Belle avoided her, annoyed at her sister’s behavior but Belle had forgiven and forgotten. When she had tried to send a letter during the letter sending period the school provided, Josephine had not return one back. She had not spoken in Josephien for long and all she knew about her was through newspapers that would be sneaked in or during the letter receiving and sending period, a family member would send her a letter.
“Exactly what I am saying! Yet to Josephine it seems to be Astonishing that I would want to talk with my brother in law, if he is made uncomfortable with me then he is a coward. I only mean to ask him questions of his opinion on things that would be favorable to Josephine.” Belle laughed when Louisa said she strayed away from people because she fears to invoke her own anger and strike them. “Slap? You’re quite amusing, but yes most people do invoke that feeling in me. Sometimes I wished I could have anyone who offends me punish, then I realize life would be quite boring without them. Foolish people were put to manage my anger skills I believe, and it would be unjust to punish those simply because I am offended, that is a man thinking,” Belle said rolling her eyes, “Let’s not stall. We should head to the library now before they wake,” Belle said as they headed to the library.
When they arrived, the library was closed as Belle expected, she used a pin from her hair and unlocked it and she smiled as they both entered it. She reached for the forbidden book section and dropped the book on top of the bookshelf- the book was such a good read, perhaps she should search for a sequel or pick or a normal book in the morning when everyone can see her.
Louisa shrugged. “Well, yes, but at least we happen to be in the library, reading books, and not doing something more…uncouth.” She nodded when Belle expressed gratefulness at the fact that the staff liked the two of them. “Yes, luckily we do happen to be favorable in the eyes of the staff here. That certainly does not mean that we can use that favoritism to cause trouble. I refuse to betray trust like that.” Louisa let out a small chuckle when Belle said that Josephine already knew that she’d be happy. “That may be so, but I’d like for her to see my regards in writing. I pray I never end up in her place. I most certainly refuse to be tied down.” She nodded at Belle’s agreement that she should be able to meet Josephine’s husband. “You will be family, after all. You deserve to know who he is, and he deserves to know you.” Covering her mouth, Louisa snorted softly at Belle’s admission of foolish people helping to control her anger. “Yes, that is true.” Once they reach the library, Belle picked the lock, and the two enter, using the moonlight streaming in through the windows to navigate the dark shelves. Louisa navigated towards the anatomy books.
@Kristi - Belle
“Of course not, Louisa. It would be quite cruel to do so, trust is not a thing that comes easily and it could be taken anytime.” She placed her arm in Louisa’s arm, “But we could use it to our advantage, it only becomes a problem when it’s misplaced and overused. Besides, it’s not like we do crude things with that, we simply pick out books,” Sure the books that Belle might pick out at times belong to the ‘forbidden’ section, that is true and Belle might do other things but nothing quite illegal that could get them intro trouble. Belle was a good student after all, and she had to wish to displease her father who had put so much trust into her.
Belle would say that she also did not wish to displease her mother too- but that would be a lie. It seemed that to Belle’s mother, Belle’s lifestyle, her approach to things was already a displeasure to her mother, unfortunately for her mother, Belle was not born to please her in such ways, Belle thinks, she was meant to make a change not for marriage which was was something Belle viewed through unfavorable eyes. Truthfully, the life of a spinster seemed to be more interesting, compared to the life of a mother and a wife. A partner could always turn on you, Belle believes, you can swear up and down that you know them and that they love you but men are deceitful, it is in their nature- some are pleasing to the eyes in terms of appearances, but on a closer relation- once they are truly known they are proved to be hollow and bland, They are easily disagreeable and you can find more faults in them that pros. To be tied to such creatures and have their children was a horror novel, once Belle does not wish to live in.
“Marriage, the talk of it even makes my head fall ill,” Belle jested, “But we shall not end up in her place hopefully, unless for some reason we are forced,” Belle shuddered to think about that, “But that thought seems to extreme, our parents can be quite old fashioned but my parents,” Perhaps her mother might but her father would disapprove, “Would not force my hand to someone I have to wish too, even if they did I will perhaps run away to live with cousin Svetlana,” Belle smirked as she put her hands behind her back and laughed.
Belle wished she could have Josephine listen to Louisa talk, ‘you deserve to know who he is, and he deserves to know you,’ truer words have not be spoken in ages and yes Josepine prefers the words of the dull, perhaps she is a little harsh on her sister but her sister can be harsher on her too, it was only fair Belle was harsh to her back. A they reached the library, Belle considered whether she should take another forbidden book, “Dearest,” Belle said addressing Louisa, “Do you think I shall perhaps take another book from the forbidden section or get an ordinary book?”
Age - Atlas: 12 | Adeline: 10
“Please don’t cry, Lena; it’s just a small cut,” Atlas remarked softly as he massaged his sister’s right knee, where she had injured herself from her fall. “It just hurts so much,” Adeline wept as she attempted to hold back her tears, but the pain was too much for her. Although Adeline felt as though she had a huge wound on her knee, it was actually more of a paper cut with a few minor scratches from the small dirt rocks that were still there. “I know, but come on, let’s go inside and clean it up so we can fix it up right away,” Atlas said as he tried to wipe her tears from her cheeks. He was patient with her because, while he understood the minor cut was small, he didn’t want his sister to feel weak or stupid for crying over it. Once Adeline calmed down a bit, she gave her older brother a small nod, and Atlas gave her a faint smile as he attempted to slowly pick her up. She was small and light, so even though he still appeared to be a small boy, he had no issue scooping her up and carrying her inside the house.
It was an ordinary evening at the Delaney estate. It was calm and peaceful. The housemaids would be preparing everything for the family’s dinner, or some would just be doing the household’s daily chores. The aroma of a delicious meal wafted through the air as Adeline and Atlas entered the house. The familiar sounds of clinking cutlery and laughter from the housemaids welcomed them with their comforting warmth. Their father was usually at his office, handling his business deals or just relaxing and enjoying his personal time, while their mother would spend her evenings reading and relaxing in her library. Adeline and Atlas were not troublesome children, so it was not difficult for their parents to unwind and enjoy some alone time. Of course, family was very important to them, but they understood the importance of giving each other some space, as it allowed them to recharge and maintain a healthy balance. This arrangement also taught the siblings the value of independence and self-sufficiency, as they learned to entertain themselves during their alone time.
“Oh dear, what on earth happened to Lady Adeline?” A lady’s voice exclaimed as she went to the children’s side, carefully taking Adeline from Atlas’ arms and placing her on one of the ottomans in their common room. “I’m okay, Ms. Ella; I just fell and my knee got cut open.” Adeline exaggerated as she pointed at her knee to show Ella her “big wound.” Ella quickly checked Adeline to make sure she didn’t have any other injuries. Ella was their nanny. She was younger than most nannies at the time, but she was wonderful at what she did, given the fact that the Delaney family was the first and only household she had worked for. She was a lovely woman as well as kind, and she adored the Delaney’s children as if they were her own. “Her knee did not get cut open.” Atlas said as he laughed at Adeline’s crazy exaggeration, “We were just playing in the garden, and while I was chasing her, she didn’t see the rock that was in front of her, so that’s when she tripped and fell…” Atlas continued to say, before signaling her to come lower to his height before continued, “All she really got was a small scratch on her knee; it is not really a big deal.” He whispered before looking over Ella’s shoulder to make sure Adeline didn’t hear him. Ella chuckled and shook her head. She knew it was nothing new, but she couldn’t help but still worry. “You both need to start being more careful.” She said as she quietly laughed and stood back up to her regular height. “Come on then, let’s get that taken care of and then get you both ready for dinner.”
As the family sat at the dinner table, Eugene couldn’t help but notice how Adeline kept fidgeting with her bandaged knee. “Are you in any pain, sweetheart?” Eugene asked, his concern evident in his voice. “I heard you got hurt this afternoon.” He said before turning his gaze to Atlas. Amelia looked up at her husband, noticing his concerned expression. “Yes, but it was nothing major; Ella took care of it right away,” she said, bringing her husband’s attention to her. “I know, but I have told both of them they need to be more careful when they are playing in the garden. It’s easy to get hurt there.” He said as he looked directly at both his children, “I’m sorry, papa, it was my fault; I should have watched where I was going.” Adeline quickly said, before being interrupted by her older brother, “No, father, it was my fault. I understand that I should be more careful and make sure Adeline doesn’t get hurt.” Atlas spoke confidently, not losing contact with his father’s eyes. Their father sighed, his gaze shifting between his two children. “It’s not about blaming anyone,” he said softly, smiling at them. “What matters is that you both need to understand the importance of being cautious and looking out for each other.” Adeline and Atlas both smiled at each other and nodded, looking back at their father and saying, “Yes, father.”
After dinner, they placed a blanket and pillows on the common area floor by the fireplace for all to sit together. “Okay, who’s turn is it to read?” Amelia announced as everyone gathered by the fireplace, full from their meal. Amelia and Eugene made it a point to sit down and read with the children every night. Even though Adeline and Atlas had their own tutors, their parents loved spending quality time with them. “I read yesterday! It’s Atlas’s turn!” Adeline giggled as she pointed towards Atlas, who she knew was already groaning at the thought of having to read. “Ugh, must I really do it?” He complained as he reluctantly picked up a book. Euegene playfully nudged him and said, “Come on, Atlas, it’s not that bad! Plus, your mother always finds the most interesting stories to read.” Atlas couldn’t help but smile at his father’s encouragement and began flipping through the pages. As he began to read, Amelia and Eugene looked at each other and shared a kiss before Eugene embraced his wife close to him, and together they watched their firstborn read. Adeline scooted closer to her older brother as she tried to peek at the book that Atlas read out loud. He noticed her and placed the book lower in order to let her see. The room was filled with warmth and love as they shared this simple yet precious moment. They were together as a family, and no one could take that away from them, at least not for that moment.
Rickmansworth, 1768
Mr and Mrs. Alverez were whispering softly outside of Beatrice’s bedroom when she suddenly oppened the door with a annoyed look on her face.
“Good morning, mother, father” She greeted them as a curtesy before saying getting to her point. “If you’re whispering about me, I’d like to hear it.”
“Really Margaret, how do you expect Mr. Brantley to take you with such an attitude.” Spat out her father. Her face fell at the realisation what those words meant, and her father regretted spitting it out like that. He, of course, left her mother to deal with her.
“Mother? Tell me father only means to scare me. Tell me something other than confirming what I’ve just heard form father.”
Her mother, looking down, said. “I wish to my child, but your father has a suitor in mind for you.”
Beatrice entered her bedroom and sad down, and her mother sat beside her.
“I always unerstood I needed to marry at some point, but I never imagined my suitor would be chosen for me.”
Her mother comforted her. "From what I’ve heard he is a good suitor. I’ve taken the liberty to inquire about him and … " Beatrice looked at her mother impatiently awaiting her to say what the mysterious Mr. Brantley is like. “Well mannered ever since he was a child and soft-spoken.”
“Soft-spoken? Such a man wouldn’t suit me at all, you know that mother. Did you have a hand in picking out this suitor?”
“No … But your father has his reasons.”
“Is it debt again? Like when we moved.”
“I don’t believe so, otherwise I would’ve known about it by now. There some other motive for this courthsip. Do you remeber when we were in debt, Beatrice?” Beatrice was busy pondering and didn’t respond, but her mother continued anyways. “When you were only 15 years of age and you adapted to a complete change in your life so fully because you were able to find a few bits and pieces about this place where you found beauty in and suddenly the weight of your life changing in front of your eyes didn’t seem so heavy to you. I dare say you will find such beauty when you marry him.” Beatrice’s face turned to confusion before her mother explained. “Mr. Brantley is from Bridgerton, where you home is. I couldn’t possibly tell you if that was your father’s motive or if it was his only motive, but you must admit marrying him would be better it means you would once more live in the eutopia you left behind and missed so much since we moved form there.” Beatrice turned to her mother half shocked to find out where she would move to and half delighted to find out she would return to a place she still calls home.
With a forced smile she said “Maybe I could bear it better if I would be at home.”
Pt. 3.
During the week where Harold and Florence didn’t see each other, Harold was away at his father’s home since he had a bad cold. When he returned he thought of the race he had with her. Even though his cabin was cozy, it wouldn’t do him any justice if he really wanted to buy that house, and he did want it. He managed to find a townhouse for rent and he brought his father with him, as he wasn’t too ill to be moved, but he was ill enough for Harold to be worried about him. He also took his mother Mary with him and his own friend, to whom he owes his life amounting to such great lenghts.
As they were situated in rented townhouse with maids and a doctor nearby, his father started feeling much better and on one night Harold decided to take his father with him to a ball he was invited to.
At the ball
Harold knew his father wouldn’t find it too hard to adapt to the situation, since not only did Harold explain what is expected of a man attending such a ball, but he was as friendly to the middle class family Harold was friends with and they both learned manners that would otherwise not be known by their class.
After being introduced to a few new faces, he saw one he recognized from his daydreams, shrouded in a beautiful combination of soft muted pink tones with a floral pattern, and a headress with a feather. She was silently drinking chapagne when she noticed him and smiled. He walked over, dragging his father with him to introduce him to her. In his mind, she was the only one who would potentionally be curious about his father and would want to be introduced to him.
“Miss Cropper, what a delight” He said those words to all the people he greeted, but he meant it for the first time when he said it to her.
“Mr. Brantley, a pleasure as always.” She returned in kind with a light curtsey.
“I would like to introduce my father to you.” He turned to his father and said. “Father, this is miss Florence Cropper. The daughter of the man whose house I’m hoping to buy.” and he turns to her. “Miss Cropper, this is my father Abner Brantley.” She smiles at him and he bows his head, knowing handshakes are too informal.
“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Brantley.” She wanted to ask what his line of work is, but realized it might be a insensitive question. “You must be very proud of your son, for one to climb through the ranks like this is rare and I doubt it’s an easy feat.” She decided with noting she knows of Harold’s origin but didn’t insult anybody.
“How did you know, miss? I’ve been proud of him since his childhood. He’s always had a knack for charming those above him.” Harold smiled as his father praised him, but his smiled faded as he looked at her. He overcomplicated his father’s words and thought she assumed it meant he was charming to everybody as he is with her. It was safe to assume that thought never crossed her mind.
"You’re wrong Miss. Cropper if you think it was hard. The family I’ve been friends with as a child are the ones who taught me how to play card and who taught me manners and mathematics. Withouth them I wouldn’t be here. In fact, my friend, from the very family I mention, is staying with me and my father. I would introduce him to you, but he’s currently dancing with a young lady.
The following few minutes Harold, Abner and Florence were discussing differences in middle class and high class, when Florence saw her father nearby and he could look over at any second.
“Mr. Brantley … My father is looking.” She told him softly, to which he responded with a sly smile before tunring to his father. “Father, you could manage on your own for one dance?” It took them only a split second after Abner said yes for them to hastily move to the edge of the dance floor awaiting their dance.
While the music was coming to an end she turned to him and said “I believe my father is coming around to you.” And as they walked closer to the center of the dance floor he said “It was all your doing, no doubt.” She blushed, thinking he sees her as forward. “Why do you assume that, I wonder?” She asked playfully. ‘Did I really say that out loud?’ He thought. “I aplogize if it’s an insult to your father, but he seems the kind of man not to question the gossip he hears, while you took your time to know me despite what you’re heard of me. Who else would help him understand I’m not what is being spread about me, but the woman who took the time to see for herself.”
“Your father wasn’t lying about your charm.” She said while dancing.
They kept silent for the first two minutes of the dance and they only gazed at each other’s eyes. Finally, she spoke. “I’ve just remebered my mother extends an invite to you for a dinner my father is hosting. She is curious and wants to meet the man who taught our newighbor a lesson. See my father never really took notice of it, but my mother always thought his gambling would ruin him someday. I expect she half desires to hear how he learned his lesson.” She chuckled. “She asked me what you were like, but I explained vaiguley what I know of you … I would very much like to see her pleasantly surprised by your manners, Mr. Brantley. As was I, and as were all the people you were introduced to.”
“I would be delighted to join you, and meet your mother. I haven’t had the pleasure as of now, and since you tell me it would bring your mother joy to have me there I’m more inclined to be there.”
“You have no other plans? I’ve heard tale your father was sick when you arrived here. I haven’t heard which disease so I’m unsure if it’s still a concern.”
“We are in luck … He’s quite well. This Bridgerton society suits him. To think I was afraid he would not like it, or not fit in. Then he became ill and I feared worse. I had no other choice in the matter but to bring him to a place where he would be cared for by better doctors and service and hope for the best. Suddenly those concerns weren’t as bothersome.” Then just as quick as it started, the dance ended. With that dance, the night ended for the both of them for they only thought about the dance for the remainder of the evening, no matter how long the ball went on.
“Certainly. At least we do nothing wrong that is illegal. Besides, if the books are forbidden, then why have them here if we can’t read them? It would be much better they did not have them as to not tempt us.” Louisa said, shaking her head. It made absolutely no sense to her. Really, if the staff didn’t want the students to read those books, then…why have them? Adults were weird. Louisa scoffed. “If I am forced to wed, I may as well jump off the highest point I can find. That is not a life I would want to live.” Yes, she was being dramatic, Louisa knew this. Did she care? Absolutely not. At Belle’s question, she sighed. “I recommend you get a normal book, but my intrigue has been piqued by your talk of the forbidden section. If you wish to check it out, I may just join you.”
@Kristi - Belle
pt 3
Lady Margot still disliked the circumstances in which she had to marry the Grand Duke, especially since… She also despises Gabriel’s perfectness. He was incredibly perfect that he made her seem imperfect in every way possible and Lady Margot was vexxed at that- but she was always quite fond of the Duke.
He was a gentleman, a true one and he always helped his subjects and was teaching Margot how to be duchess and allowed her to help with the papers after she pressed. Truthfully, Margot never expected to be a Grand Ducchess, her family recently had been quite dissapointed in her and it was due to… And she never expected them to arrange a marriage for her and tell her last minute. She knew her parents were displeased, quite displease and Lady Margot was also displeases in herself if she had to admit- she could not believe she had her heart be enthralled by someone who had not even proposed marriage first of all and she was rejecting a grand duke, her now husband at first because she was furious
Lady Margot was truly mad in many ways. Another way in which the lady-or perhaps the duchess was a better saying, was mad was thar she was in love. She was in love with the Duke even with all the times she had spent telling Camille, her sister that she would never fall in love with him because he was so him and she was so her. She was in love and yet could not utter those words to him, she could not tell him how fond of him. It was if the words could not come out when Gabriel would ask her "what changed in your behavior? You seen to be taking a liking in me quite lately
When he would utter those words she would look away and hide her face in embarrassment. The words just did not come out, perhaps if it was not him asking but somebody completly different with a different personality she would be able to openly admit her love. But since she could not do that she showed it, this days she had been sleeping in the same bed as him unlike before, she had even kissed him in the lips which he was surprise about.
“Why are you so shock, Gabriel?” The duchess asked, biting her lips to hard the smile that threaned to reveal itself.
“Since when did we lock lips?”
"You do not wish to share a kiss with me?
“No, no my lady you misunderstand me-”
“I seem to be doing that a lot,” lady margot interrupted.
“I love how your lips feel against mine.” That made Lady Margot face warm, “Though, you seemed to be so against me and now we are kissing.”
“We have kissed since we were wed. Gabriel” the way she had said his name made Duke Gabriel face hot, it was so attractive, especially when it came from Margot’s voice, “You ask too much questions, let’s judt enjoy ourselves” She told him as they kissed again before drifting to sleep.
Some months later into their marriage and their couple life, Duke Gabriel and Margot had a beautiful bouncing boy. Louis, who seemed to be the perfect image of his father.
“Louis, do not venture too far into the gardens you will fall-” Duchess Margot began, rolling her eyes as Louis fell but laughed instead of crying. “He takes after you,” she mummbled to Gabriel, “He does not care about things”
“But we care about you” duke Gabriel said picking his son who planted a kiss on his mother’s cheeks.
“Is that so?” Lady margot asked amused as she kissed her husband.
“It is so” Gabriel responsed as he kissed back while little Louis laughed.
Pt. 3.
In the 3 months following the news from their parents, Beatrice and Casimir were courting. However, although Casimir learned a lot about Beatrice, she felt as if she learned nothing about Casimir except that he’s withdrawn, at least to her.
Their first meeting was a walk in nature chaperoned by her mother. The weather was beautiful and there was only a short drizzle during it, but they were both prepared for it. They didn’t talk much, only mentioning the rain coming and talking about it and the weather or mentioning how beautiful something they stumbled upon is. She was glad to be in London again so she focused a lot of her time to nostalgia that came with visiting it again and wonder as to how everything changed since she was last there. Only near the end, when they were back on the streets as he was seeing them to their carriage did they talk about something other than nature or weather, but it only laster for a few minutes and it was about other people in London.
During the next few meetings she would be the one to start any conversation and he’d reveal very little about himself. Some of the meetings were also dances and events where people couldn’t talk for long periods of time together.
The only progress she found out about him was that he is aspirational to do something with a plot of land owned by him, and that he is a very good listener. Casimir learned a lot about her, and he realized living with her wouldn’t be hard. He did feel guilt whenever he would look at her because he felt she deserves better. To him she seemed interested in a lot of things, always ready for action, which is quite different for him, and he felt as if being married to him would not only be below her interest but would also keep her grounded where she doesn’t want to be.
Their last meeting during courtship
1768, Beatrice’s bedroom
While a maid is stuffing Beatrice’s long brown curls into a net in preparation for the powdered wig, her mother is nervously fidgeting with her wedding bond.
“Beatrice …” She finally adressed her daughter. “You do understand nobody is forcing you to say yes. Your father might’ve insisted on you courting him, but if you have somebody else on mind, or if you think he is not right for you, you can say no and I will take care of your father.” Beatriced noded to signify no. “No mother. I know that whatever future awaits me with that man has only the danger of being boring, meanwhile refusing such a good proposal would prove more dangerous.” She looked at her mother in the mirror. “I won’t risk that and I can’t ask you to risk so much to protect me when that happens.” Truth be told, she wasn’t as opposed to it as she previously was, remebering that the last time she met him, they had a good conversation where he revealed to her his plans for the future and some of his hobbies, and gifted her a book which she mentioned once. It wasn’t just any book but philosophy, a thing she liked, which she mentioned two or three times to him, and mentioning how as a woman she couldn’t find this book anywere.
With a determined look about her, she put on her baby blue robe a l’Anglaise. Thankfully she didn’t need makeup as she was already as white as a ghost, and she pinched her cheeks to get them to blush. Her mother came to collect her and send her downstairs as soon as the Brantley’s arrived. She greeted them all and invited Casimir to take a turn about the garden with her, while the Brantley’s talked to Mr. Alvarez all the while Mrs. Alvarez was carefully watching the garden through the window.
Looking back at the window, knowing her mother is watching her, Beatrice said. “It’s odd, isn’t it? How we’re doing all of this as a sort of performance for our parents.”
“I’ve been thinking that since our first meeting.” Casimir softly said.
“This does remind me of it, it is simmilar enough to a walk in the nature is it not?” She tried starting a conversation again.
“I don’t thinks so.” He said back.
Beatrice was fully ready to be silent for a while, but instead Casimir asked her. “Your birthday is in june?” She nodded, agreeing with him, but also saying “Yes, why do you ask?”
“In that case I have a present for you.” Which made her laugh a bit.
“In that case? What if you were mistaken about my birthday, would you have not told me you had a present?”
“Yes, I wouldn’t want to give you a bad gift.”
“That’s very kind of you, but if you’ve already gone to the trouble, I wouldn’t object to it. The fact you thought of me and bought something is a great gesture.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Of course. Are you keeping me in suspence purposefully?” She asked, waiting to see his present becuase the last one was a great one.
“Oh of course” he said as he revealed a necklace box in his coat pocket. He opened it to reveal a double pearl necklace chocker. “It’s pearls. Your birthstone.”
She smiled at it. “How did you know? It completes my outfit perfectly! In fact it would complete my entire wardrobe.” He smiled. “Maybe I should buy a new wardrobe entirely, just to suit my new necklace.” He chuckled to himself, thinking how she would react once she sees the ring he got her.
“I’m sorry, did I hear a laugh?”
“You haven’t hear me laugh until now?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“I must’ve been the pressure of entertaining.” He joked and she chuckled.
“Oh I understand what you mean.” After joking they again realized they were constantly observed and their mood for laughter suddenly wasn’t there anymore. He helped her put the necklace around her neck and afterwards they continued walking.
They sat down on a bench overlooking a woodland area and Casimir put his hand in his other coat pocket and fiddled with the ringbox for a few seconds. Beatrice took of her gloves and put them on the handrail of the bench expecting for her ungloved hand to have a ring on it by the time they get up.
Casimir collected himself and turned to her. "Miss Alvarez … " The words were coming out slowly. “These past few … months have been a delight.” He took a pause as he allowed himself to pull out the box, but before to managed to do so, she stopped him. “Casimir, you don’t need to make speeches for me.” She said with a smile. Casimir was shocked to hear his first name spoken by her. “You … just adressed me by my first name.” He said in confusion. He knew that people who reffer to each others by their first names are either married or engaged. “Exactly.” She responded with a sly smile. “I knew what you would ask me, therefore now, you know my answer.” She turned her body towards him on the bench and said. “It’s much easier to pose a question to somebody if you already know the answer.” And only then he realized that she wanted to help him by suggesting her answer would be yes. It was the best way she could’ve possibly helped him. Swept in the gesture she just did for him, he got down on one knee and confidentally pulled out the ring box. “Miss Beatrice Melanie Alvarez … Will you do me the honor of being my wife?” She felt a great relief as she said “Yes.” They both did as this was the moment their parents were pushing and slowly kicking them towards, and now it’s finally over. However, they have another anxious topic of leading a life together. That night at the ball, as a way of announcing her engagement to him, Beatrice refused any dance offers, and only dances one with Casimir.
House Fleur Gardens
Orpheus had arrived, and Belle couldn’t help but wonder why. Well, in truth, she knew precisely why he was here. Orpheus was a long-standing family friend, and his sporadic visits were hardly unexpected. However, Belle had never really engaged in meaningful conversation with Orpheus. He had attempted small talk with her, but she often brushed him off or replied with thinly veiled annoyance, a response that seemed to amuse him.
He wasn’t a terrible person, certainly not as disagreeable as most men Belle had encountered. Still, he possessed an irksome tendency to be excessively flirtatious and to wax poetic about love, which grated on Belle’s nerves.
Belle couldn’t bring herself to despise him, though. There was nothing truly detestable about Orpheus, but she wished she could muster some genuine disdain for him. Perhaps if she displayed real animosity, Orpheus would cease pestering her. One might think that her reputation as ‘Thorny Belle’ would deter people from seeking her company like bees to honey. Unfortunately, it appeared that the moniker meant little to most, much to Belle’s chagrin, considering the effort she had put into cultivating it.
At present, Belle found herself in the gardens relaxing as she picked out some pretty flowers. They were pretty, extremely pretty and Belle loved the flowers that grew. Sadly, the Fleur Manor did not grow many rose flowers and grew mostly dandelions, liliac, Transvaal daisy and carnations and so seeing rose fleurs in the manor made her heart swell. They were so gorgeous, it was no shock why her father had named her ‘Rose,’ Belle Rose Fleur. Belle really loved her name. She grabbed a flower, putting her nose in it and sigh wistfully as she giggled. She had put a small flower petal in her hair as she twirled. Ah, as impossible as it was, at times Belle had wished for one thing- that it could rain flowers. It would not be good for the earth though, if it would rain flowers and not water, but it would be a good fantasy of that. Belle had once read a book about a world where flowers were the rain, she had been amused at that, and rolled her eyes at it because it would not work at all realistically and the logic the author had written was scientifically incorrect but right now… Belle thinks, she sees what the author was going with, but still it would not work.
She stopped twirling and she was about to grab another flower, when she heard the footsteps of somebody. She stopped in her tracks, freezing as she turned around, an unamusing look crossed her face. “Lord Langston,” Belle said, “Can I help you?” She asked as he walked near to her. She looked away, “Is Josephine boring you? Why are you here Orpheus?” She asked dropping the formalities, realizing her mistake she brushed it off, “Pardon, I meant Lord Langston.”
(I think adding a song is a cute idea so)
reading music - flowers in your hair
It had been a perfectly suitable day for serenading the flowers. That is what Orpheus thought to himself as he wandered around the gardens behind his family’s estate playing softly to the rose bushes he so neatly procured for himself. It might sound strange, but Orpheus truly believed the music helped them grow more beautiful. For when he played, they bloomed vibrant shades of pink, red, white, and yellow. Yet, when he let them in silence, their colors seemed more dulled to him.
As he paced the rows of fresh blooms, he stopped upon a rose nearly purple in its hue.
“You…” He began, carefully plucking the rose by the stem, “Are just the shade I have been hoping for.” Orpheus pulled the flower into his violin case along with the instrument itself, and began his familiar walk toward the Fleur estate.
Among the Fleur siblings, he was generally well-liked. That is, again, among most of them. Belle Rose was a woman of little patience and far too many opinions, most of which would contradict Orpheus’ very being. It was all the same that she became the fixation of his subtle affections despite the fact that Belle’s sister, Josephine, was much more eager to speak with him.
Josephine and Orpheus had been life long friends and companions to the point of being rumored to be courting at one moment in time. However, the relationship was strictly platonic in nature, and Orpheus enjoyed listening to Josephine swoon about other suitors and gossip.
Belle Rose, however, never seemed taken by his affections, making him all the more determined to win her favor.
As he approached the Fleur estate his eyes caught swirls of lace flittering about the back gardens. Without being announced properly, Orpheus snuck his way around to flower beds where he saw Belle Rose twirling about in the sunlight. Her blonde hair glinted golden flecks in the sun, and her red cheeks were enhanced by the heat of the rays from above. Orpheus stood a moment, smiling to himself as he watched. ‘A flower dancing among the flowers, what a beautiful notion’, he thought.
“Lord Langston,” Belle said, “Can I help you?”
Orpheus readjusted the violin case on his shoulder and walked toward her, a subtle smile playing on his lips.
“Is Josephine boring you? Why are you here Orpheus?Pardon, I meant Lord Langston.” Belle gave a slight bow of the head out of formal respect. Orpheus chuckled at the sight and quickly bent to pop open the latches of his case.
“No need for formalities among friends, Belle Rose.” The word ‘friends’ formed heavily emphasized as he spoke.
He quickly pulled the lavender tinted rose from the case, plucking off the stem, and turning to Belle. A small flower was tucked neatly behind her ear, and he stepped closer toward her, hoping she would not move away as quickly as she normally had. Before she could protest, Orpheus plucked the flower from her hair, and replaced it with the purple rose. His hand lingered briefly along the strands of her hair that shimmered like gold just moments before. His words nearly escaping him, he took a step back to give her space once more.
“I know roses are your favorite. This one bloomed a lavender hue, the sole one of its kind in the garden…Much like you, Miss Belle.” Orpheus’ eyes lingered on her for nearly a moment too long before he quickly averted them to the ground. Although used to flirting with the women of the ton, Belle Rose held a particular beauty that often captivated him in a different way.
“You look at peace among the flower beds. Their delicate nature seems to bring out a softer side in you.” Orpheus glanced at the garden taking in the sights of the flowers Belle’s family grew. He truly never attempted to grow flowers other than roses. Not because they were Belle’s favorite, although that did sway him, but because his favorite color was a soft hue he had only witnessed among the rose bushes. They were his favorite as well, and he felt that connected him to Belle in a way.
“Your dance reminded me of a line in my favorite poem.
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.” Orpheus looked back at her, his eyes hoping to see more than distain.
“Your beauty befits your name. A golden flower as radiant as the sun itself…In truth, your beauty inspires. Especially on a day as fine as this.” Orpheus sat down at Belle’s feet, flicking his fingers amongst the flowers below.
“Do not let my presence interrupt your arranging. Might I join you in picking the flowers today? I have a keen eye for beauty, you know?” Orpheus attempted a laugh, but it came out kind of awkward and soft. Belle’s coolness had a way of twisting his nerves like few women did.
mentioned : @Kristi
1789, A London ball
Darius Cuthbert has knitted a reputation of a flirt. Thankfully it didn’t grow larger than that and it wouldn’t grown any larger than that because he never became of a rakish nature. When he was 18, his father Henry advised him to start being serious about marriage and not to flirt so much with women he intends not to consider marrying.
But Darius enjoyed flirtation. On his end it was always harmless and a way to feel good about himself. He knew he was handsome and he liked being reminded of it in every woman’s blush, shudder or smile, but he loved none of them, only their reactions to his charm. It didn’t hurt him seem all the more charming and handsome being so young, rich, amiable and fun. However, Darius was ready to secure himself a match and was ready to select the woman whom he’d give his attentions to from now on.
The ball was just like any other for him with the only exception being his brother not attending this time. Looking around Darius hasn’t noticed a single woman he thought was by any account better for the position of his wife than another in the room. He had no special feeling towards any of them and therefore couldn’t make up his mind as to who to woo. Due to this he decided to turn to his old ways and leave the task of finding a wife until he meets a woman who would intrigue him. That means, of course, he wouldn’t seek one out but wait for one to appear in front of him, like an apparition. Thankfully, that’s exactly what happened, althought maybe unintentionally. There on the other side of the ballroom stood a redheaded woman longingly looking at him as he interacted with other women. He noticed somebody’s eyes on him and as he turned to see who it is, he quickly caught her look away in a panicked way. And then he noticed the blush that wasn’t painted on her face. Since she was far away and turned away from him, all he could notice was her beautiful robe à l’anglaise retroussée dress, her headpiece and her red hair. He didn’t know why, but something about her struck him so he quickly turned to his cousin Daniel who happened to be there.
“Cousin, do you know who that woman is?” Darius asked which made Daniel chuckle.
“Mr. Cuthbert, the room is full of women, if you had not noticed any other but the one you speak of.”
“The one that looks like that portrait. ‘A portrait of a red haired lady’ it was called, I believe.”
“Well, considering the name of the portrait I assume you mean the woman with the red hair. I’m sorry cousin I cannot say that I do know her.”Answered Daniel, and continued with a question of his own. “Why do you ask about her? Do you have any plans involving her or does her beauty strike you?”
“I do not know why she caught my eye … Perhaps becuase I caught hers first.”
“Do not flatter yourself so much. Did she give any signs that she’s as interested in you as you are in her?”
“No, but I did just catch her gazing at me and as she turned I swear I saw blush in her face.”
“You mean to tell me, dear cousin, that you don’t believe she was simply looking over and realized it seemed as she was looking at you and simply looked away and that the blush in her face, would be makeup … Isn’t it a fact that most if not all young ladies here are wearing blush makeup? How would you know it wasn’t just makeup?”
“You wouldn’t understand, I saw it with my own eyes and it does not seem like you described it at all. You see cousin, so many women in here I’ve met through harmless flirtation and I know them well enough to realize they don’t differe much amongst them. One is kind, one is virtuous, one is fair … And yet when I talk to a kind woman I think about the woman with many virtues, and when I talk to the woman with the fairest skin and the bluest eyes, I think of the woman with a kind heart. There might be a defining feature in all of them, but none awaken anything in me. No feelings, no emotions, no love. How could I possibly pick a bride … And there is this woman … She who caught my eye withouth having to utter a word to me. See I don’t mind if it was just a passing glance … She’s done less to gain my attention than any other woman in the room yet she caught it more sucesfully than them too. How could I not be interested in a woman like that? I would at least like to get to know her, however, as to not taint my fate, I wouldn’t be so fast as to try flirtation right away, as she might think me too impudent and I wouldn’t want to risk that.”
As Darius believed she gazed upon him with an eye for his handsome face, he wasn’t entirely wrong, but that wasn’t the only reason she looked at him. No her reason for looking at him is far more reasonable than his reason for wanting to speak to her.
Knowing that his brother isn’t nearby and that he doesn’t know if anybody who he knows would also know her so they could be introduced, he took matters into his own hands. He marched up to her, which shocked his cousin a bit, and gazed a bit at her. Seeing he’s noticed her across the room or that he’s noticed her gazing would easily allow him to sound flirtatious, which he promised he would stay away from at least during the first few meetings, so he decided to use the fact she reminds him of a famous portrait from a few years ago. “Excuse me madam, I must ask, have you ever posed for a painting? A portait perhaps? I could swear I saw your face on a gallery wall somewhere in the last few years.”
@Jass - Mervinia
When Belle had asked if he needed any assitance, she had hoped he would respond with something like, ‘Oh, my , there’s no need. I simply happened upon this spot by chance,’ and make his exit. Of course, she knew Lord Langston well enough to expect that he wouldn’t depart so easily. Thus, as he adjusted his violin, Belle took a subtle step backward, ensuring there was an appropriate distance between them.
A smile, tinged with amusement, graced her lips when he referred to them as friends. “Friends? Is that the impression you have on our relationship, sir? Friends?” Belle asked, her voice amused. She had no idea when she had even hinted to him that their relationship was what she considered to be ‘friends’, it seems that he liked to make assumptions on his status when it comes to relations with Belle. He was Josephine, Louis and Thomas friend for sure, but when was she added to the equation? Whenever that was, Belle wishes to be removed from the equation. She wanted to elaborate, to say something or perhaps to think a little bit more but before she could do either, she was interrupted by Orp-Lord Langston bold actions. In one swift motion, he removed the flower adorning her hair and replaced it with a delicate purple rose. Belle felt a fleeting freeze in her movements as Lord Langston’s fingers lingered amidst her hair, seemingly extending the moment.
She retreated a couple of steps, and, had it not been for the proximity of an awaiting bush, she might have distanced herself even more. Her expression conveyed a mixture of surprise and annoyance, silently demanding an explanation for his unexpected gesture. “And to the gods, Lord Langston, what did you think you were doing?” She asked, as her hands reached out to the rose on her head gently touching it as she debated whether or not to remove it. It was a pretty rose, it could have its uses, especially if Belle wanted to create something but she did not know if she wanted to accept a gift from him, especially with the amount of misunderstands it could cost. Of course, no one will know he had giving it to her and still he knew that he was the type of man to take satisfaction from the fact she accepted his gift, perhaps he shall see it as a peace offering or something else even if it was just a little gift.
Yet, the flower was so pretty and complimented her dress well that Belle did not want to remove it just yet. She would do it later of course, especially since he was annoying her with mindless flattery. She would admit tho, the poem did bring a smile to her face and made her laugh a little even though she tried to hold it, you could not put a blame on her no, it was simply that Belle had what one would call a bibliophile heart, she was to fond of everything literature and poetry and the fact that Orpehus knew william wordsworth somewhat amused her, “You read poetry?” she could not help but to ask curious, her hair dancing in the wind, and her expression looking more soft than previously. Still, she had distanced herself from him, but he seemed to be eager to always close the distance between them as he sat near her feet touching the flowers below.
Belle muttered something, turning around as he asked if he could join her in picking flowers. She wanted to say no, tell him to go away but she guesses that for the gift, she should exchange one to him as well. “Don’t ruin anything,” was her response to him, as she turned to picking flowers, sitting down and trying to ignore Mr.Langston, but she could not as he seemed to be staring at her a little to much. “You can’t pick flowers if all you’re doing is staring,” Belle said as she picked a little dandelion bringing it to her nose, “A white dandelion,” Belle began and you could not if she was speaking to herself, to the air or to someone but she was speaking to someone- orpheus, “A white dandelion symbolizes hope, freedom and transformation. It is not my favorite flower but I am fond of it.”
she’s a lady, and I am just a boy
Orpheus stayed quiet, waiting for a reaction from her he was sure would come in the form of an eye roll or smack in the head. Yet, Belle moved to sit with him on the garden floor, her dress curled beneath her. Orpheus’ breath caught in his chest. Be it out of excitement or pure shock, even he was not sure. However, he found himself, yet again, staring a moment too long.
“You can’t pick flowers if all you’re doing is staring,” Belle’s voice came suddenly, pulling him from his trace-like stare.
“My apologies…” Orpheus felt his face go red and touched a hand to his cheek to calm it. He focused his attention back on the flowers as Belle moved through them diligently and gracefully, pulling a dandelion she happened upon.
As Orpheus listened to her discuss the symbolism behind the flower, his smile spread yet again. She truly was amazing to behold, a woman of her own interests and ideals. He could listen to her talk for hours. Perhaps that is why he continued to visit so regularly, both the challenge of winning her favor and the joy her presence and knowledge brought him.
“I suppose we all need a white dandelion in our lives then, do we not?” Orpheus smiled, plucking one himself, and placing the small flower in his violin case where the rose once sat. A fair trade.
“You know…” Orpheus continued, “Your sister quite misses speaking with you regularly. She talks of you often. You should go to her sometime. I believe she would enjoy your talks of flowers nearly as much as I do.” Orpheus offered.
It was true. In fact, despite both sisters being convinced the other did not desire their company, Orpheus had seen differently. Josephine often talked about how Belle had grown distant, and it broke her heart. It saddened Orpheus, himself, that they both held apart so long over resolvable issues.
“Speak with her.” Orpheus glanced up at Belle briefly as he re-latched his violin case, enclosing the flower inside. Orpheus offered a final, small smile before heading back down the path he came from.
‘Tomorrow,’ he thought, ‘I shall bring an even more beautiful rose’.
mentioned : @Kristi
July 20th, 1805
It had been only one season since Corin had met Arista at the sister school across from his academy. Since their meeting two months prior, they had grown quite attached. Corin would often have letters dropped beneath Arista’s dorm doors, filled with petals from fragrant flowers from across the world. Today, he would be dropping off a letter in person. It read,
“My dearest Arista,
With a heart as earnest as a suitor’s first bow, I pen these words, hoping they might reach you amidst the whirlwind of others who wish to win your favor. From the moment our eyes did meet, it was as if the heavens themselves had conspired to grace me with a glimpse of true beauty.
As I wander through the halls of our esteemed academies, it is your image that lingers, enchanting my thoughts with each step. Like the delicate petals of the rare bloom I have encased here, your grace and poise are unmatched, setting you apart from all others in this bleak state.
With each passing day, my thoughts are consumed by your enchanting presence. Your laughter, like the sweetest serenade, echoes in my ears, and your every gesture becomes a sonnet, etched upon my heart. How I yearn to be the wind that caresses your cheek or the stars that bear witness to your beauty in the tranquil night sky.
Though words may falter in their attempt to capture the depth of my affection, know that my devotion remains steadfast and unwavering. Should you be willing to consider a suitor whose soul is tethered to yours, I would count myself amongst the most fortunate men in all of France.
However a man of my word, I find action speaks volumes over the pen. If you would grant me the honor of your presence, I shall be waiting for you in the school’s gardens tonight. I hope to see the brilliance of your beauty under the moonlight.
With earnest hope and an ardent heart,
~ Corin Blackwood”
Corin has spent the entirety of the afternoon preparing for a moonlit picnic in the garden. Attempting to avoid watchful eyes of the professors, he had stolen a blanket from the bed chamber of an unsuspecting younger boy and many candles from the dining hall. After setting the scene, he traveled to Viola, a trusted cook within the academy to help him prepare an assortment of fruits, creams, pastries, and wines for the night.
With two baskets in hand, brimming with provisions, Corin headed back to the garden to wait. He pulled the matchbox from his pocket and slowly lit the candles around the blanket. He stood, pacing, his knuckles whitening around the stems of a bouquet he had arranged earlier in the day. The brilliant smell of tulips filled the air.
With his eyes cast upon the ground, he had not noticed Arista standing there, hands clasped over her mouth, a slight giggle in her chest as she watched Corin pace.
“You set all this for me?” Arista asked, moving closer. Corin nearly jumped at the sound of her voice.
“You came?” Corin asked, quickly running to her to ensure it was indeed her features that graced his presence.
“Well, you wrote,” Arista smirked, taking the bouquet from his hands. “How could I refuse?” She moved past him onto the grass, sitting atop the blanket with such grace it nearly left Corin speechless.
“I-here-I-uh-“ Corin stuttered, quickly pulling items out of the basket and arranging them on the blanket.
“I suppose you aren’t as eloquent in person as you are in your letters.” Arista giggled, plopping a small green grape into her mouth.
“No…” He blushed, catching himself, “I am! No, I am! I just…you’re different.” He stumbled, gulping down a large glass of wine. Although Corin had planned this very moment a thousand times in his head, he was not prepared for the reality of entertaining a lady at night.
“You know, I do enjoy the many fragrances the petals you send bring to my room. The blossoms from Japan being one of my favorites. However, dandelions are just as beautiful, are they not?” Arista spoke as she plucked a fluffy white weed from the ground.
“I believe any flower you can make a wish on to be far superior.” Arista giggled and blew the seeds of the dandelion all around into the night sky, the tiny pieces floating about in the air around her.
Corin could not help but stare, mouth open. Bathed in moonlight, surrounded by soft flowers and wines, she looked like a goddess. It was as if Aphrodite herself had blessed the image before him.
“You’re beautiful…” Corin muttered, trying desperately not to blink out of fear she would disappear.
Arista blushed, looking down at the pastries and fiddling with a stray strawberry.
Corin stood abruptly, extending his hand downward.
“I am a man of no legitimate ranking nor family name to give you. I hold nothing for you, but the purest of loves in my heart. I may never dance with you at the grand parties society might sway you toward, and others may never approve of an engagement between us, I am well aware. Yet, if you will have me, I would be honored to dance beneath the heavens with you tonight. Even if it is just for tonight…” Corin glanced into her eyes, her soft blonde hair flowing in gentle curls around her face.
He did not want to dance, in fact he never enjoyed dancing, not until he met her. In fact, he found he never enjoyed a dance until it was with her, he never appreciated the fragrant petals of flowers until she smiled at her bouquet, and he never imagined he could love someone more than his own until he witnessed her tonight. She had touched every aspect of his life and somehow made even the most mundane, beautiful.
Arista took his hand slowly and raised from the ground without a word. They stood, staring into each other, uncaring of the world around them.
The moon and stars reflected inside her eyes, and Corin caught his breath in his chest.
He would not be dancing beneath the heavens, he would be dancing with the heavens.
Corin began slowly, leading her around in a simple step. Their bodies leaned far too close together as they moved into a graceful waltz.
Corin couldn’t help the small grin that broke across his face as he finished the dance and bowed deeply in front of her. This was a night he had not even imagined in his dreams. He had found the woman he was set to marry, that much he could feel.
Suddenly Arista spoke up, her eyes cast upon Corin’s feet, “I do not care for title nor name…” Her voice was filled with a deep longing. “I care for you.” She whispered, her eyes slowly moving to meeting Corin’s own. “I believe I shall always care for you…” Suddenly, Arista reached forward, wrapping her hand behind Corin’s neck and pressing her lips to his. Corin stood, eyes wide, unsure of what to do.
He had asked her to dance to avoid stealing a kiss and risking her reputation. Although, he supposed, perhaps an unchaperoned meeting had already done that…
He leaned into her embrace, placing a hand on the small of her back to pull her even closer. She smelled of flowers. Not one discernible type, but that of a garden filled with flowers. The smell intoxicated him, and Corin melted within her arms.
Just as quickly as he had lost himself in her, he pulled away sharply at the realization of what she had done. His eyes confused and wild, he dropped his hold of her and backed away.
Arista stood confused, waiting for a response. Corin turned from her, pacing along the garden floor. Arista’s heart sank in her chest. Perhaps he did not feel the same.
Corin paced back and forth for what seemed like hours, his hands fidgeting with the matchbox in his pocket, until he came to a stop in front of her. His once wild and confused eyes now stern and determined as he uttered,
“Marry me.”
Will I be unable to see you again anymore?
As Orpheus’ words graced her ears, Belle felt the gentle caress of the breeze upon her cheeks, and the only thing she could concentrate on were the flowers and her own thoughts. It had been quite a while since Josephine’s marriage, and Belle found herself distanced from her sister. Their relationship had soured over Josephine’s reluctance to introduce Belle to Marquis Antoine Blanc, her new brother-in-law. Belle’s letters reaching out to Josephine had gone unanswered, and today, Josephine had finally returned home to introduce the see the family and introduce Belle who had not yet been introduced to her nephews. While the embers of her anger still smoldered, Belle focused her attention on her little nephews, ignoring Josephine as Josephine had ignored her.
Belle knew that such a thing would happen, that Josephine and her’s relationship would get strained when Josephine got married and that was why Belle had been less than appreciative when Josephine had debuted and was awaiting suitors and that was another one of the many reasons, and trust Belle had a lot, on why she did not like the idea of marriage.
Moreover, Belle had began to think that her relationship with her sister was as doomed as a ship caught in a tempestuous sea and that a lot of things between them could not go back to being the same, which was probably the truth, though when Orpheus had said to talk to her sister, Belle felt something within her. “Wait, what do,” Belle was about to begin, but Orpheus had already left. Great! The one time Belle wanted Orpehus near her, he had to disappear.
@DandelionKate (mentioned)
November 15th, 1807
Corin’s 18th birthday
(such a perfect song for corin during these years. def recommend listening)
It had been another year, and Corin’s birthday celebration had died down to a soft hum in Blackwood Manor. After Sebastian is put to bed, the whole house seemed more empty.
This year, Corin had wished for something very particular. A blessing.
“Mama…” Corin started, rising from his position by the hearth. “You normally take your strolls under moonlight. Might I join you this evening?” Corin gave a soft, forced smile, extending his hand to his mother. It took every ounce of strength he had to keep his fingers from shaking with the force of the nerves in his chest.
“Of course, my love.” Corin’s mother stood, and they both moved toward the front entrance to don more acceptable clothing for the chill of the November air.
As they opened the large, black, wooden double doors to the manor, a sharp blast of frigid air whipped their hair from their faces. There was a frosty dampness along the path, yet snow had not yet begun to stick.
“Come. I shall take you down my favorite path.” Corin’s mother extended her arm, and Corin softly looped his own through hers. They began down the side road leading away from town.
“Although I very much enjoy your company, my dear, why have you asked to join me this night?” Marie asked, her eyes fixated on Corin’s that seemed to dart everywhere except to her own.
“I have something I would like to discuss with you, mother.” Corin attempted to swallow the lump in his throat, his palms growing sweatier despite the chill of the air. “It is about some friends at academy.” Corin stopped short, effectively stopping his mother as well whose arm was still linked in his.
“Well, go on.” His mother chuckled softly, trying to relieve her son’s stress.
Corin’s face tightened, his breath shallow and sharp.
“I am engaged.” He spat out, searching his mother’s face for hints of anger or frustration.
For a moment that is how they stood. Both searching each others eyes for more, neither one moving.
Marie broke the silence first.
“Do you love her?” She asked, pulling Corin along as they continued to walk.
“More than life itself, yes.” Corin breathed, his eyes focused on the moon. The same moon he and Arista had danced under together. The same moon that kept their secrets hidden. The same one she was likely watching tonight, just as he did.
“And you are marrying her out of love? Not out of…necessity?” His mother prodded, clearly hinting at a wed locked child.
“Of course, mama. I am a gentleman. I would never…” Corin’s face grew red. Talking of such matters with his mother was not something he would ever grow fond of.
“Then you have my blessing. I assume that is why you are telling me this alone.” Marie smiled, squeezing Corin’s arm tighter. “Although, I do hope you are both true in your devotion. Marrying at such a young age requires a lifetime of commitment, not a schoolyard romance.” As Marie spoke, they neared a cliffside. Marie stopped, looked out at the soft glow of France whose candles were still dimly lit among the night. Her gaze followed upward, the stars sprinkling the skies in yellow, mimicking the glow of the candles below. It was often hard to see where the skies met the ground on nights like this as the speckles of light flowed into each other on the horizon.
“You must be devoted with every breath. As committed to your life with her as the stars are to shining for us. That is how you will find peace in this life.” Marie glanced at Corin who suddenly had tears running down his cheeks. Marie placed her hand softly on his cheek, wiping away his tears.
“I am scared, mama.” Corin breathed, leaning into her palm. “I am nothing compared to her. I have no title. I have nothing to offer. If her father denies us I-“ Corin’s breath caught in his chest as he began to hyperventilate.
“Hush now, child…” Marie cooed, pulling Corin into an embrace.
“You have your heart.” Marie wrapped her hand around Corin’s, placing them both on his chest. “A heart worth one hundred titles. If your lover can sense that, her father will too, I am sure of it.” Marie gave a soft kiss on Corin’s palm, looking back out at the sky.
“Take peace in the skies, my son, and the world that fills us with riches such as love. Appreciate that you are of a rare few in this lifetime who can experience such joys.” Marie sighed, looking back to Corin. “Love her with everything you can give her. That will be enough.” Marie smiled, squeezing Corin’s hand lightly.
“And if it is not?” Corin asked, wiping his final tears from his cheeks.
“Then we shall walk here again. And we shall talk. And we will watch the stars fall to the ground together. Each night. Until it is enough for someone new.” Marie turned to Corin, her face firm.
“You are my son. Never forget that. There is no heartbreak you cannot overcome. There is no loss you cannot bear. If this girl and her father do not see your heart and your strength as I do, then we shall find someone who will. However, I am sure you will succeed. It is not the Blackwood way to lose a business agreement.” Marie gave her son a wink. “Come, let us turn back.” Marie guided Corin from the overlook and back toward the path they came from. “It seems we have guests to prepare for, do we not?” Marie smiled, and her smile seemed to infect Corin’s sullen disposition as well. They moved back toward Blackwood Manor, smiling, arm in arm.
Corin was unaware at the time, that it would, indeed, be his final walk with his mother.
November 15th, 1807
Corin’s 18th birthday
…5 days before the fire…
”No-“ ”Margo-“ ”No,“ this was not the first time Margaret tuned out everything around her, refusing to listen to what someone was saying or at least trying to say to her, including her beloved older sister that was chasing her through the back door. Of course she would give you a chance and try to hear you out but the moment she hears something she doesn’t like or thinks of something better she could do at that moment, you’ll completely lose her attention. One might find that rude but if you’re close to Margaret it’s something you know you can always expect, something her family got used to and no matter how many times they tell her she needs to work on that she will always ignore them. Especially if she hears “husband” or “marriage” somewhere in their sentence. ”You’ll never marry if you keep behaving that way.” “You’ll learn how to listen to your husband.”
Let’s start with a simple, easy question - why would Margo ever have to listen to someone else? Someone she “has to marry one day” because that’s what everyone expects of a lady like herself? Another question being why does she have to marry at all? Why should she be so excited about her first presentations to the queen? In Margo’s humble opinion that was one of the most ridiculous things she’s seen other ladies do, including her own sister just a few years ago. Even as a child Margaret was never fond of that idea, that oh so special event. But that’s not to say that Margaret doesn’t believe in love and doesn’t want to find someone who’ll treat her the way she sees her father treating her mother - it’s just the way everything plays out, the huge deal everyone makes out of it. Letting the queen judge her, watching gentlemen pick between girls, pick whichever one would fit most into whatever they planned for the future. Well, Margaret has a whole future planned out for herself and it doesn’t include getting married so young to someone she knows nothing about.
”You know we all want only best for you, love, why don’t you trust us on this?“ Her long waves now bouncing behind her as she walked down the stairs that led to the back garden, nothing but a simple, flowy dress on her as she carried a big basket with her gardening tools, Margo already forgot her sister was still behind her, still trying to talk to her. Not something you’d see often on the Hastingston estate considering Barbara, Margaret’s sister was no longer living there - someone chasing Margaret through the garden being a strange thing and not her carrying something she can let one of her brothers, or even better, gardeners do. But that is Margaret Hastingston for you.
”Can you leave that for a second and just look at m- We have gardeners for that, you know that, right?“ See? Even Barbara agrees. ”Margar-“ ”I can’t beli- How many times have I told Jude not to step on- This is getting ridicu- And where are my glov-“ Mumbling more to herself, only acknowledging that someone was next to her, Margaret dropped down to her knees not minding how dirty her dress will get, putting down the heavy basket. ”Margar-“ ”I could’ve sworn they were in here, unless-“ ”MARGARET!“ ”WHAT?“ A very common conversation you might overhear between two ladies, isn’t it? Raising her own voice Margo looked up at her sister only to find her sister’s serious gaze already on her. ” I apologize - how may I help your sister, dear?“ A loud sigh left Margaret’s mouth as she attempted to continue what she started, or what she wanted to do before she was so rudely interrupted, but this time listening to what Barbara wanted to tell her.
”Father and mother would be very proud of you Margo-“ ”Proud that I put on a pretty dress and stood in front of the queen with my pretties smile, having everyone staring at how pretty I am-“ ”Don’t do that-“ ”Proud of letting a stranger lay a hand on me oh so gently, of marrying me because I come from a good famil-“ ”That’s not- Can you not- Don’t do that. You’re making it sound like we’re asking you to do God knows what. I wouldn’t be here, trying to help you if wasn’t happy with where I ended up. And no, don’t try to tell me I was lucky and that doesn’t mean every girl gets her happy ending, I know how you think, I’m just asking you to do this one thing, just this one time and if you hate it as much as you think you’ll hate it then fine! That is completely acceptable, just don’t be so stubborn about it… Don’t you want to… Remember what we did when we were kids- ”You mean - remember what I made you do when we were kids?“ ”I will help you find the most fitting dress, teach you everything you need to know, we will have such a pleasant time together… Please, Margo. Looking back up at her sister, she found her stretching her arm out for her, the subtle pout on her lips that would make everyone give in. It sometimes works on Margo too but she knows it’s only her way of trying to get what she wants - this one time Margo will let it slide. ”I don’t promise anything,“ taking her sisters hand, she stood up, looking down at her muddy dress without a care; but not the same thing could be said about Barbara. Her expression changed to something that represented disgust she tried to hide but obviously couldn’t. ”I can accept that for now.“
The urge to take action had been building within Albina for weeks, and the day before today, she had determined it was time to act. She had felt like she needed to do something, anything, to find her missing twin sister. She came to the conclusion perhaps a detective could help. Someone with a different perspective, someone who might see what Albina had missed. So, she had written Master Bruce Armstrong, son of renowned detective Graham Armstrong, in the hope he could be of any assistance.
Now, as she was in the living room sitting the day after, the postman arrived. She rushed to the door to accept the post from the him, before anyone else could see and open the letter. She hid the letter in her dress, until she could carefully unfolded the letter it in the comfort of her room. Even the way the letter had been folded, it was a puzzle to unfold. She enjoyed the little challenge however. When after working on it a minute she had managed to open it, she read the words carefully:
It was quite cryptic, almost as if he was challenging her intelligence. She assumed he had been able to deduct the time when the postman would reach her house, so they were to meet right around now. It took her a few seconds to realise what he meant with the pantheon of wind meets land however. She quickly deducted it must be some type of temple, something having to do with gods. Wind, wind, she thought a minute, then it hit her, the temple at the Kensington Gardens, it was called the Temple of Aeolus. Of course. It must be, Aeolus is the protector of the winds. Albina had gotten so caught up in feeling excited about solving this cryptic message, she had almost forgotten what this was about. She needed to think, how was she able to leave the house at this moment? She did not want to raise any suspicion about the endeavours she was undertaking. She walked back to the living room, and then addressed her mother and her brother Harvey with grace, Albina spoke, “My dearest Mother, Harvey, please take care in my absence. I am to meet with Adeline and shall return before the evening meal.”
Before leaving the house, Albina inspected herself in the mirror. Her maid had done an excellent job with her hair this morning, the complicated braids complemented her pale green morning dress beautifully. As she reached for her jacket, her eyes caught a small jam stain on her dress. Normally, she would change immediately, but today, her priority was her meeting with Master Bruce Armstrong. While he lacked noble lineage, Albina trusted in his abilities to assist her in this case, given his father’s reputation as an excellent detective.
However, her father, when he was still alive, had always prepared her for any danger. As a result, she concealed a small knife in one of the many pockets hidden within her corset. While she was willing to risk her safety to find out what had happened to her twin, she wasn’t willing to be foolish or naive. She understood the risks she faced – meeting a complete stranger alone, unaware of his true intentions, and being caught alone with a man, which could tarnish her reputation irreparably. She needed to be prepared and cautious.
The Kensington Gardens were not far from the Northwick estate. Normally, she would have taken the 15-minute walk, but due to the urgency of their letters, Albina had opted to hire a Hackney carriage. She offered the driver double the regular fare as an incentive for his discretion about her solo journey, as a lady that was not most acceptable. After a silent five-minute ride, she arrived at the Kensington Gardens. She took a deep breath, feeling a sense of nervousness. This meeting was her last hope of reestablishing contact with her twin sister, she could not help however, to be also curious about him, him she was meeting. With the way he had challenged her thus far.
Albina walked along the secluded, forested paths until she reached the Temple of Aeolus. This remote location was ideal for their meeting, she took a deep breath in relief, no one was around. They would be able to talk her in trust. Finding an empty bench, she sat down and reviewed her notes one last time. She wanted to be fully prepared for any questions that Master Bruce Armstrong might pose, even the smallest of details could be off massive importance.
@Bluecookies ~ Bruce