Chapter 2 - Ballgowns and Thorns

Chapter 2:

The next few weeks went by in a flurry of petticoats and balls, everyone wanting to say goodbye before i left for my schooling and i think one last chance for the ladies to sink in their claws before my fathers only reason for attending these functions left town. I was young and hated being flaunted as a new calf prepared for the marriage market slaughter but still enjoyed dancing and chatting with friends.

Dad was always a good sport, refusing to hire a lady chaperone for ball after ball, instead insisting that he go himself. He kept a watchful eye on me i knew, but there were many corridors he didn't know about. I needed them when i was tired of my father pressing every available young man into my presence to sign my dance card. It was nice to just have space and breath and think... yes imagine that! A woman that thinks! The nerve of some of these men! I could feel my blood pressure rise just recollecting on what had transpired last night, in fact the last of my nights in London.

Benjamin Bradley; an up and coming aristocratic lawyer, another of my father's good intentions... had just asked for a spot on my dance card and we were chatting amicably while the band set up for the next round. That is until he asked why i needed to leave and attend school... “women can learn all they desire from the comfort of the home." "And what, should a woman learn then?" I asked as serenely as possible... trying not to show my ruffled feathers. Benjamin replied "Oh, the usual things that make a good wife and mother... organizing the household, embroidery, painting, entertaining, gardening, decorating the home...”, it was at this point i think he noticed my colour start to rise. I spoke very slowly to be sure i could control my volume and tone as well as make sure this sophisticated man heard my every word. "Really?! Well I plan on studying math, sciences, account keeping, law, to continue learning the art of self defense and if i can find someone to teach me, i want to know how to fight!" I made sure to glare into his face on that last bit to show that i would NOT be some poor simple housewife. I am the sole heir to our empire, i would never just hand it over to some man just because he was my husband... i will prove my worth! And with that final thought in my mind, i searched out my father and asked to go home early convincing him that i was not feeling well and wanted to be well rested before our journey.

Laying in bed i have a renewed energy to return to my studies, in Edinburgh there were many that i knew could teach me to fight and command an empire. They were highlanders after all... mostly brutes and i intended to find one that would teach me what my schooling wouldn't. Madame Blanchard had already sent me a letter in apprehension for my arrival. It was fairly genial, breaking down my studies and I couldn't help but notice how restricted they were when it came to running more than just a household. Being an only child, my father believed it was of utmost importance to teach me how to not only defend myself but to also understand figures. A concept most men of my age would scoff at, thinking that it is beyond a woman's comprehension. Men like Benjamin, who thought i was just a pretty rose to adorn a household... well, i plan on proving that this rose has thorns. With this thought in my head I drift off to sleep, dreaming of plans to prove my worth.

The next morning was a whirlwind of activity, everyone in the household rushing to load the carriages and prepare for our departure. Luckily my father didn't raise a dimwitted daughter; if I say so myself. I had put all my chests outside my chamber the day prior so that i could have a quiet morning to prepare for the journey without constant interruption from footmen carrying trunks. Only my riding clothes for the trip and a small attache in case of emergencies remained... as i took one last look around my suite it was almost as though a longing came over me that i wished my mother was still there brushing my hair or fussing about. It would be the last time i would be in our family home for some time and i knew i was already homesick.

In the foyer, my father and a line of servants awaited my presence to get the journey underway. As busy as he was, he always ensured he saved time for me. Promising to escort me on my journey was nothing new, even though I assured him it was not necessary. He insisted that i sit back and enjoy the ride and let him have his last few moments with me before i became a woman. Now how can a girl say no to that?!

It was an arduous journey to say the least, between my father’s constant concern over what may lie ahead of me; and i do believe he actually underestimates me, never mind the few delays along the trip. It seemed as though we barely made it down the first country lane outside of London before a wheel on the carriage had broken... luckily we were still close enough to the city limits that we were able to have it fixed in about 4 hours. I can’t imagine how long we would have been stranded if we had made it any farther!!

With that significant time delay we were forced to stay at a homesteaders cottage along the route... i was grateful but with the looks I received from the one son, i was also over joyed to get back under way as early as possible. I scolded myself after leaving at the first sign of dawn for not being able to handle that situation better. I will not survive on my own if I continue to be skittish as a newborn colt around strangers of the male variety.

We finally arrived well past evening tea time, i was so exhausted that i trudged straight up to the room where i was shown my belongings were being placed and flopped on the bed. Waking up still in my traveling clothes but with the room full of candlelight now and a steaming bath in the process of being prepared by a now roaring fire, it took me a few moments to realize i had fallen asleep. Gathering my bearings i slowly took notice of my suite for the first time. As i slowly removed my jacket and traveling shoes, i wandered around the room admiring the decorative details on the furniture. Absently unbraiding my hair in preparation for my evening bath I hadn’t even heard the knock at my door or that it had opened...

That is, not until i stood facing a young girl with curly red hair and freckles; she could have been half my age. “Hello there” i said carefully, she had the most beautiful green eyes i had ever seen but with a sadness and hardness that could only be achieved from a rough life, dedication and hard work. I’ve seen that look before, on my father. Instantly i was taken with her, however before i could say anything she told me her name is Issabelle and continued with, “I will be your lady’s maid and escort should you ever require one... that is if i am suitable and meet your expectations my lady”. I looked her up and down in as stern a face as possible and replied “you will do”. I smiled at her then and asked her to assist me in preparing for my bath. As she helped remove my garments i asked “how long was i asleep for?” and “did i even meet with the groundskeeper?”

Issabelle giggled answering “you must have been exhausted, you slept where you landed for the last 4 hours!”, “That and you could barely walk a straight line, you also told Mr. McCrae that an introduction can wait until the morning” ... Jim McCrae being my groundskeeper. A man very highly recommended by my father’s associates. “Oh my, i must have seemed awfully rude! I must make amends to greet him properly once i have freshened up from our trip.” I mumbled to myself. Issbelle must have overheard me as she nodded adding “tish tosh my lady, anyone in their right mind or even a bit squidgy would have seen that you were asleep on your feet, Mr. McCrae will be joining you for tea in an hour... at your father’s request.” Issabelle continued, “I’m sure he understood. Despite how grumpy he can be, he really is a kind soul.” And with that final revelation we set to work on cleaning the road grime and remaining exhaustion from my bones.

I was very thankful that i had an adjoining dressing room so that my sleep deprived body was not viewed by every steward of the house. And this gave me plenty of room for my assortment of attire and accessories. I always did love dressing up, even as a girl i would sneak into my mother’s dressing room and try on gloves and shoes and hats...

I stopped then to see Issabelle looking at me with sadness and realized i had been reminiscing, showing my emotions on my face of a sweeter time when my mother was around. Ladies do not show their emotions to the help, they remain strong and display control and leadership if they are to be obeyed and rules followed. So, sticking out my chin i asked Issabelle to fetch me my green gown with matching shoes as i finished with my bath. I needed a minute to compose myself out of my revery. When she had returned a few minutes later i had dried myself and was brushing my hair by the fire.

Issabelle laid my garments on the bed and came over to assist with brushing my hair and putting it up into an lovely coifed updo. Then she carefully helped with my gown so as not to wreck my hairstyle. I couldn’t help thinking to myself, it is funny the amount of preparation a lady needs to just have tea... i wonder if my warrior ancestors would have thought much about their hair before helping the injured or rushing out to battle... i giggled then at the thought and i swear my chamber maid thinks i’m daft! I really need to learn to control my thoughts and expressions... i suppose that is why i am continuing my education with Madame Blanchard and the Academy. Well! Time to make the most of my presence here, and with that thought i spun on my heels and followed Issabelle to the tea room where my father and a handful of attendants were visiting while awaiting my arrival.

Seeing me enter the room, my father stood to escort me to the sofa where an elderly lady smelling of Lilacs and ginger, poured the tea and offered me an assortment of baked confections.

She was introduced to me as Mrs. Stuart; the head of the serving staff as well as one of the finest cooks this side of Inverness. I dipped my head and thanked her for the tea, then arranged to talk with her in the morning about the pantry and store room inventory to prepare for winter. My father chuckled, “why don’t you relax Rose, we can worry about all that in due time”. “Well, it’s all your fault in raising a daughter that feels preparedness is a necessity of life!”, I laughed back.

Settling into the room and jovial atmosphere, i met the remaining occupants. Mr. McCrae; Issabelle’s description was correct, although grumpy with calloused, work hardened hands and features; he had a gentleness to his eyes that showed me a man i could trust. My father, Lord Duncaster; completely at ease in his highback chair before the fireplace, the strain from our journey absolutely wiped away. He had gotten paler and lost some of his height with an added ponch where his trim stomach line used to be. I had figured that his lost height was due to the way he held his posture these days more than anything else, the hunch at his shoulders told of his willingness to give up since my mother passed. What I wouldn’t give to see him hold his back straight again. Time has been hard on him, I almost asked him to stay and live there with me while I continued my studies. Sadly, I knew he had to return to the House of Lords and take his seat as was his responsibility.

Oh how I love him! I could just sit and watch him gayly laugh with the servants as he teased me, just as he had mum.

One of the servants that he was laughing with looked to be a burly brute by the name of Sean Mckay, I was aware immediately of his size and of the lion tattoo on his arm. His thick wavy red hair was worn down to his shoulders and loose, he wore rough trousers and a clean work shirt with the sleeves rolled up at the elbows. His eyes were bright and twinkled as he laughed with crows feet in the corners showing it happened more often than not. They were a strange emerald green with a golden halo around the center, almost enough to draw you into their depths without even realizing it.

Sean was introduced as being the footman as well as protector since my father wouldn’t be around. I crinkled my nose at the word protector, someday I wouldn’t need one. My father must have had some history with this man to entrust him with so prized a possession. They joked of pranks played as children when I realized they were from the same neighborhood.

Sean’s aunt was my father’s old neighbor before he ran off with my mother and built his fortune. It was good to see the happiness of those times reminiscing in his eyes, adding a ruddiness to his cheeks. We’ll get along wonderfully, she thought. Maybe she can learn stories of her dad as a boy, that thought warmed her.

The other gentlemen at my father’s side were dressed in finer clothes, one looked like a barrister and the other looked like he was on his way to a ball or court. The first gentleman was in fact a barrister, her barrister. He was from Edinburgh, a Mr. Doug Forrester. He had soft eyes like her dad which let her trust him more than she usually would allow for anyone in the field of law. This was the man in charge of her estate as provided by her father. He promised to keep her updated with the balance of her budget and was impressed instead of scoffing at her idea of keeping her own books. He even offered to help show her some tricks!

The well dressed Lord on her father’s other side, bothered her... there was something not right in his eyes. His smile never did quite reach them, and he had a slight tick to his left jawline when he looked at her. This was Sir Henry Bastille. His dark chestnut hair was coifed and he had a powdered face with the popular french mole applied. He was there to fetch her father as he was another lord needing to be in office. He reeked of Whigs and pomp, held his nose just high enough for anyone in attendance to be sure of it. He had arrived a day earlier as we had been delayed and was not happy to be so far from London and his many waiting ladies with nothing to do. According to Issabelle, he had been ordering the staff all night and morning until they arrived. The way the housekeeper; Mrs. Stuart, avoided eye contact and him in general each time she refilled the table’s confections, did not leave a good feeling as to his behavior.

Rose made a mental note to talk with the staff about it privately. After introductions were made to a few other various staff, some maids, and a driver. Mr. McCrae, Mr. Mckay (at his request, I am to always call him Sean), the maids, Mrs. Stuart, and finally Mr. Forrester left to go about their duties or make their way home. As my father prepared to head home for the next morning, I asked to have a word in private. Eerily keeping an eye on his associate; Mr. Bastille, as we walked from the room my arm linked in my father’s as we always did... he winked at me! Disgusted, I stared straight ahead until we were enclosed in my father’s study. My dear father having no idea of what just transpired, going on about how I should redecorate the study to suite my needs and help with my classes. I smiled starting with “i will, and (brief pause for effect) WHY IS A WHIG IN THIS HOUSE?!”

John Duncaster stared ridiculously at his lovely daughter for a brief minute before shhhhing her vehemently. He didn’t think she would have figured out Bastille until later, he needed to stop underestimating his daughter. She will be a force to be reckoned, he thought with a smile. He saw the fear in her innocent eyes and told her, “Rose, it is fine, I’m keeping up my whig pretense. I still need to get more information for the tories.”

Rose stood before him then and whispered “I am worried for your safety back to London, with Him” ... she spoke the last part with spit fit for a snake. Her father took her hands and told her, he didn’t trust Him for a second, showing her his jeweled dagger kept in a knife pouch just under his armpit... under his great coat. This man was no fool, Rose thought with a sigh. Put at ease, she strode away from him circling the room back to the conversation he had started.

“I think I would like to add some practice dummies for fighting in this corner”... she said. Lord John looked at her laughing and said, “you’re gonna knock they’re socks off at that finishing school!” Then, “Whatever your heart desires my lovely Rose”, he endearingly whispered from across the room. She loved that she has a father so understanding! It was really incredible! Running across the room she flew to him and he embraced her.

Early the next morning the Lords took their leave. With the house full of mixed emotions, Rose stood ready for the day, to say goodbye to her father, already missing him. Waiving from the carriage window Lord John was riding back with Bastille. Bastille was more moody than ever that morning and stared out the opposite window. John wanted to leave a private coach for Rose to use getting back and forth from school, which was a short ride away. Bastille thought it a inconvenience and more than the little brat needed. Lord Duncaster treasured his daughter above all else and wanted to keep the promise made to his beloved wife. It was the last promise he could keep for her.