Simple Twists in Reality - Part XVI

As I make my way down the first set of stairs my nerves grow. I can feel my heart flutter like the wings of a butterfly as I get closer and closer to the bottom step. The feeling is irrational as I still have another flight of stairs to go to actually reach our guests, and yet I can’t seem to breath steadily.

I pause at the bottom of the stairs and look out to the full moon, hoping it will give me strength. This is when I notice that there are tiny, pristine white flecks falling outside. The moon has a bluish hue and this only adds to the beauty of the picturesque scene out my window. I suddenly feel full of courage and bravery. Walking down some stairs seems a small feat to accomplish.

I walk around the corner and to the top of the second flight of stairs, the stairs that will lead me to the crowd of milling guests. I stand there for a moment, just looking at my feet. Then, as I realise how pathetic I must look, I hold my head high and look straight ahead as I start to descend the stairs.

The further down the stairs I go the more people start to look at me. I can feel the eyes on me, all of them staring. But at the same time, I can feel the admiration and the awe. I fell proud as I come closer and closer to the floor. I can see my father amongst the crowd. He is smiling and nodding at me. When I finally reach the bottom every eye in the room is on me.

***

Simple Twists in Reality - Part XV

When the clock chimes fifty past five my mother tells me to hurry up to my room and to stay there until she sends Catherine to get me.

I ask her why and her answer both shocks and delights me. “Elizabeth, you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen and I want everyone to know how precious you are. I want you to enter the room by descending down the stairs, just as you did for your father, and I want it to happen when everyone is here.”

And so I wait in my room, playing with paper. Almost every five minutes I find myself glancing at the clock, wondering how long it will take mother to come and collect me. The clock reaches six thirty and I start to wonder if this was all a cruel joke and that mother just did not want the shame of having me at the party.

Finally, at quarter to seven Catherine comes up to find me. “Why has it taken so long? What is happening downstairs? Did something go wrong? Has mother decided that she does not want me to attend the party at all?”

“Maam, nofin’ like that has happened. Your mother has been waitin’ until every guest arrived. She made me write down all the names of the people who were going to attend and then check them off once they arrived. Mr Winchester seemed awful keen to see you. He arrived five minutes early and immediately asked where you were. Everyone has been waitin’. I don’t fink we should make them wait any longer.”

We share a smile and Catherine giggles. “I guess I was being a little melodramatic.” Catherine laughs again.

***

Simple Twists in Reality - Part XIV

When mother and I arrive home we discover that Catherine has been hard at work preparing the house and that she has finished the dancing hall, the lounge room, the library and the men’s smoking room. Mother walks around to check that everything looks perfect and to make slight changes. Before setting off to do this, though, she excuses Catherine and I so that we may work out my hair and Catherine may see my dress.

While walking up to my room I discover that Catherine has also decorated the stairs leading up to the third level with all our bedrooms and, to my complete shock, my bedroom. The hall on the third floor has also had the slightest decoration added to it. I ask her why and her only answer is a coy smile and subtle wink. This leaves me wondering how innocent my maid really is.

We take out my dress and Catherine helps me to put it on.

“Oh… Why Miss, I don’t fink I have ever seen anyfin’ so beautiful in my entire life! You look like somefin’ from a dream, comin’ down from heaven to save me. I have no doubt maam, that you will turn all heads tonight. You are bound to make even the most opposed and respectable men fall in love with you.”

We giggle at the prospect and then we put the dress into my wardrobe. I head back downstairs to help mother to decorate the study, leaving Catherine to think of how we will fashion my hair, to make it match my dress.

An hour later Catherine has come up with a hairstyle that we all agree looks wonderful, mother and I have finished all the decorating and Catherine has cooked us some lunch. Mother’s maid and the cook have been away for three days as Jonathan, the cook, was sick and needed surgery. The doctor, however, called us yesterday and assured us that he will be all better my midday today and that he should be home by three in the evening.

This has meant that Catherine has been working harder than ever to complete separate pieces of three jobs. Jonathan and Linda, mother’s maid, are due to arrive any minute. The party is to start at six so mother instructs Catherine to run me a bath and wash my hair. Mother clearly wants me to look my best tonight and I can’t help but wonder what the special occasion is.

I take my bath and wash my hair. The next half hour is spent with Catherine trying to dry it. Jonathan and Linda arrive back in this time and mother starts organising the dinner menu for tonight. By the time my hair is dry there is only an hour and a half until the party starts. Father is home and working on some documents, Jonathan is slow roasting the lamb that we are going to have tonight, and Linda is helping mother to get ready.

Catherine gets me into my dress and starts on my hair. It takes her around half an hour to get it to perfection and it looks lovely. Pins that have delicate, silver butterflies on the end, hold most of my hair together, flowing up in a large bun and the remainder is out. My hair is very long and reaches down to the small of my back. Catherine has arranged it so that most is at the back but a small amount hangs over my right shoulder.

Catherine claims that I could not look more beautiful if God himself had dressed me. I smile and tell her that she is being far too kind.

I walk to my jewellery box and take out the earrings that Lewis gave me for my birthday. They look absolutely marvellous with my dress. Now all that is needed is a necklace. I find a simple silver chain with a sapphire surrounded by gold. My father gave this to me on my sixteenth birthday and it matches both my earrings and my dress.

By the time I am completely ready there is only half an hour remaining until the guests start to arrive and mother is impatiently waiting at my door for me to come out. I tell her to get father and wait below the second storey stairs. She is very unhappy about being made to wait but knows enough to do as I ask. When she comes back to tell me they are ready I wait a minute for mother to get back into position and then make my way down the flight of stairs.

My heart skips when I see their faces. My father has always loved me and told me I was beautiful, being the closest and kindest of my parents. Mother has always seemed distant, saddened that she did not have a boy. Usually it is the other way around. But now… now my mother really looks like nothing, not even a son, could match this moment.

“Darling, You look beautiful! You are an angel! How is it possible that all this time I have seen my young little daughter, and only now I can see that she has grown into a beautiful woman? Come here my child! Let your father get a good look at you.” I am so grateful for my father. He always knows when to be supportive and what to say. I do not know what I would do without him.

Mother looks at me for a moment, saying nothing but looking. Then she says, “Elizabeth, I have never been so proud of you. I don’t care if you do not get an offer of marriage tonight, or for the next month, or even the next year. You are the most beautiful young woman I have ever seen and if young men cannot see through the fog that blinds them, and ask you to dance at least, then they are not worthy of such beauty,”

I walk swiftly to my mother and fold into her arms. I have never felt like a piece to be treasured in my mother’s collection. Not until now. And the way my father looks at me, as though if he were to touch me the spell will be broken and I will turn back into his young, innocent daughter, is worth all the trouble that Amanda put into making this dress. I will have to make sure that I give her something special.

***

Simple Twists in Reality - Part XIII

We arrive at the fitters and find that Amanda has spent almost all night working on the beading to make sure that it is ready for me today. I hug the breath out of her, knowing my actions will be frowned upon, and thank her immensely for all that she has done. She says it will be worth it when everyone sees me tonight, telling me that the only thing that could possibly make it better would be if she got to see me, and everyone’s faces when they did the same.

Amanda leads me into a fitting room just to make sure that everything is perfect. Amanda has always been a lovely person and we have been good friends ever since I met her.

When I finally get the dress on I find that I have never seen a garment that looked as beautiful as the one I am wearing. Amanda says that I look like an angel dressed in the night sky. She claims that nothing I have worn before has made me look so beautiful. The dark midnight blue of the dress brings out the paleness of my skin and also makes my long, dark brown, gently curled hair look like that of a goddess. I cannot thank Amanda enough but I try never the less.

Mother asks if she can come in and see but I insist that she must wait until tonight to see me, as a surprise. I can tell by her tone that she is unhappy about this but she agrees never the less. I know that she will like it but I do not want to see Amanda embarrassed by having to explain that the design is not one of the house’s but instead one I have made myself. I will save her that agony.

***

Simple Twists in Reality - Part XII

By lunchtime we have finished the dinning room, the stairs, the parlour and the second story hall. The place is filled with silver and gold along with lovely ornaments. The decorations are all working together to make the house look even more splendid than it usually does.

Mother and I leave to go and collect my dress and Catherine continues to decorate, using the rooms we have already done and mother’s instructions as a guideline for how it should be done. I trust her explicitly.

***

Simple Twists in Reality - Part XI

I wake up in the morning to find my mother sitting on the end of my bed, talking to herself. I greet her and she seems slightly flustered.

“Elizabeth,” she starts. Great, I can already tell that we are going to have a discussion about last night. And, most likely, the discussion will turn into an argument as mother tells me all the terrible things about Lewis. “You don’t really think that Lewis was being serious about proposing to you do you? I mean, it was just a joke? Right? And if he did propose… You wouldn’t say yes, would you?”

“Mother! Why would it be so bad if Lewis did propose to me anyway? You seem so keen to get an offer of marriage for me from almost any eligible man in the city, but when it comes to Lewis. He is a man from a good family, with a good title and a reasonable fortune. What more could you want?”

“But Elizabeth dear, he is not reasonable! He does not do what is respectable. He would make you look like a fool if you were to marry him. He would never give you the kind of social life that one of your reputation and position should have! You must see that.”

“No mother I do not see that. I like Lewis. He makes me laugh and I enjoy his company. I can be myself around him. I don’t have to pretend to be the perfect young lady that so many believe me to be. All the men you want me to marry can’t even suck up the courage to come and talk to me let alone propose. I have not had a decent conversation with any of the men that you deem ‘eligible’!”

“But dear, they are just shy. You must give them time, to warm up to you.”

“Mother, they have had 18 years to warm up to me. If they cannot yet even talk to me then they will never be able to. I am not going to marry a man that won’t even say hello. And speaking of respectable, are you saying that the way Michael fools around with other young women is respectable?”

“Oh Elizabeth, that is just a rumour! Michael is a lovely young man, and speaking of which you should not have sent him away and refused to go to the ballet with him. It was a very generous offer and I am sure that after that it is not likely to come again. You should have been more kind.”

“Oh really mother! We both know that it was not Michael speaking but his mother. Michael would never have come over if it were not for his mother insisting! And anyway…”

“Elizabeth I have no interest in arguing with you! I am getting tired of you being so headstrong. Just promise me that you will make an effort with Michael and Henry tonight? Now, I am going to work with Catherine to get the decorations out and start embellishing the house for tonight. I am sure that you can get dressed yourself? I will meet you downstairs when you are ready.”

Mother leaves the room and that is the end of it. We have sorted out none of our problems. Now, not only am I mad with her but I am also left to ponder over what happened last night and what may happen tonight. Will Lewis say anything about last night or add to it? And what will Michael do? Is what he said yesterday true? Will he ignore me? After what I said to him I would not be surprised if he just avoided me the entire time.

I take my time to get ready, choosing a plain dress to wear for the set up. Mother and I are going to pick up my dress from the fitters at midday and until then we are all helping with the decorations. I am thinking gold but of course mother has the last say on the matter.

When I finally make my way downstairs Catherine has made a collection of boxes filled with decorations in the parlour and mother is telling her where she wants them to go. Mother has already decorated the hall, with silver and gold fabric hanging loosely from the ceiling in alternate colours. It does look quite lovely and I am sure the whole house will end up looking marvellous.

I join mother and Catherine, and we all get to work on the dining room.

***

Simple Twists in Reality - Part X

When we arrive Lewis is there to meet us and, though my mother gives him a chilling stare, he seems only too happy to see us. We head for their parlour, filled with stuffed chairs and decorative lamps. We sit down and are given the option of cakes as a starter along with some cheese and bread. Lewis’ father, Nicholas, is away on important business in England and will not be back for another three days, so we are deprived of his company.

Lewis sits next to me on a rather small couch and mother sends me a warning glance, though I already know that Lewis is too close. He has always been like that, never abiding by the rules of respectability and pushing the limits.

I suspect that is one of the reasons that we get along so well, he is not uptight like so many of the other young men that travel in our social circle.

Maria, Lewis’s mother, and Victoria, his younger sister, walk in to the room and we engage in a conversation about respectable families. It is so nice to be able to see Victoria again. We have always been good friends and on more than one occasion I have helped Victoria with things. Her reputation is almost as good as mine and we spend much time together. I have missed her greatly since she went to spend four months with her English family, learning how to be a true lady. She has promised to teach me everything she has learnt. I cannot wait to have some time alone with her and hear all about her adventure.

Our conversation soon turns into a chat about how I must be in want of a good husband and of whom would be the best choice. Victoria and I share a look of discomfort and annoyance. Both of us have heard this conversation far too many times, with either of us being the subject. Mother immediately brings up Michael, saying he is most respectable and has a good position in society.

“I have never liked Michael. He is so self-absorbed and he is rude all the time.” Lewis, speaks up, surprising everyone in the room, except, it seems, his sister.

“Oh really darling. You just don’t like the fellow because he gets all the girls and leaves you none. Don’t mind Lewis. He and Michael never got off to the right start.”

“No, really mother. He fools around with girls as though they are not people, he is rude to everyone as though we are all beneath him, and he spends much of his time looking at things that he knows he can’t have, such as you Elizabeth.”

I am so shocked by the conversation that I can’t think of a single thing to say.

“Well… Elizabeth’s father does like the idea of Henry Rutherford as well. He is most charming and is related to English royalty, did you know?” Mother is clearly trying to steer the conversation toward a more agreeable subject without changing the topic.

“Mr. Rutherford is a very respectable and well off man. He could make you quite happy, Elizabeth. I would go for him over Michael any day.” I appreciate Victoria trying to soften the topic and create a more peaceful discussion.

“Henry? You have got to be joking Ri! As if Henry Rutherford could make Elizabeth happy. He is far too sensible and strait. He looks and acts as though he has a piece of lead pipe for a spinal chord. Not to mention that he would stop her visits to the theatre as soon as was possible.” I now feel particularly uncomfortable having been referred to in the third person.

Lewis continues, “There is not one man in this city that deserves such a woman as you, Elizabeth. They all have fatal flaws and are not worthy of such a perfect companion.” I have to put all my concentration into not staring and having my jaw drop to my feet, which is incredibly difficult.

“None except you Lewis, I suppose,” his mother says.

“Well, now that you bring it up, yes. None of the men here are worthy of you but, if I was given the honour, I would most certainly take the prize jewel of this city’s female youth, and would try my utmost to be worthy of the privilege bestowed.”

As always my mother comes through for me and ruins the moment of absolute shock by saying, “Well Lewis, though you may feel that you are the only man worthy of Elizabeth’s hand in marriage she must still find herself a respectable husband, and as you have no intention of asking for her hand in marriage, I think it reasonable that we should discuss other prospects.”

“Well… no. I would gladly offer Miss Elliot a marriage proposal if I believed it to be welcome. There are many men within this hell hole who have their eye on your becoming daughter and who is to say that I am not one of them?” Well, that shut my mother up. Problem is that is that it has also shocked Ms Winchester and I into silence.

“Why don’t we head into the dining room and see what cook has made for us?” I cannot express my gratitude to Victoria enough and as soon as mother, Maria and Lewis start to leave I hurry over to her and take her arm in mine.

“Thank you!” I whisper.

“Don’t mention it. I apologise for my brother. He is very passionate about you finding a good and responsible man to take care of you. I don’t believe he thinks your mother is up to the task, though he does trust your father more. You must forgive him for his behaviour.”

The remainder of the evening passes without further mention of this topic. The whole evening is rather uncomfortable in truth, as no one wants to say what their thoughts are on Lewis’ earlier comment, however, no one can stop thinking about it. Mother seems relieved when it comes time for us to leave. She reminds the family that they are all expected to be coming tomorrow night and that the whole evening will be great fun.

I thank Ms Winchester for inviting us over for such a lovely dinner and give Victoria a well-deserved hug. We leave without further conversation. As we leave I can hear Maria and Lewis having a heated discussion over what was mentioned throughout the evening.

Mother and I pass the carriage ride home in silence, neither of us wishing to say anyhting. When we get home father inquires as to how the dinner went and I make my way straight to my bedroom where I spare no time in getting ready for bed.

***

Simple Twists in Reality - Part IX

When we arrive home mother insists that I go up to my room and try on my new dress. It is a lavender piece with a ruffled and layered skirt. The torso is embroidered with black, silver and gold beads arranged in a flowery pattern. It is a lovely dress but nothing to compare to that of the one I will wear tomorrow night. I walk down stairs to show mother and she is delighted with how well it has turned out. She informs me that I should start getting my hair ready with Catherine as we will need to leave soon and she does not want to be late.

An hour later we are finally on our way, with mother having made Catherine redo my hair three times before she was happy with it. I had not seen the issue but I usually never do. As we head towards the Winchester’s house I notice that it has not rained or snowed at all today but that the clouds are dark and ominous. I can only hope for snow tomorrow night.

***

Simple Twists in Reality - Part VIII

The fitters is a lovely place. It is small and has a similar feel to a house. You enter and wait in a small living room with magazines and sketches of all the new designs. Some of the most famous designs have been framed and hung around the room. It gives the area a lovely feel.

The head seamstress, Amanda, brings me into a fitting room with a large set of mirrors arranged to make a semicircle, allowing one to view oneself from any angle. Amanda brings in some rolls of fabric to allow me to choose a colour. I spent a majority of yesterday thinking about what I might like to wear and have decided to go with a midnight theme. I have never seen anyone wear such a dress but feel like it will look very dashing.

I pick a midnight blue sheer fabric to go over a black satin, all this being for my torso. I ask Amanda if it would be possible for the sheer to be embroidered with silver beads and such to make it look like a night sky. I also asked if beads could be very thickly done at the top and to slowly thin down until there are only about six beads at the bottom of the torso. I ask for a similar thing to be done for the sleeves.

Amanda says that it sounds absolutely marvellous and that I should start designing dresses for the company. I don’t tell her that I do design dresses for myself at home, but mother believes it is a silly fascination that does not deserve my time. I love designing dresses but know nothing will ever come of it.

Next I ask Amanda if we could make the skirt of the dress a light-to-mid charcoal grey. This is easily done. Above the charcoal grey we have the midnight sheer with only some randomly placed silver beads throughout the fabric. The sheer, however, is cut in sections so that the dress appears to have panels of the grey and of the midnight sheer alternating.

Amanda says that the dress is one of the loveliest she has seen and that she will spend the remainder of the day working on it and all of tomorrow to make sure that it is ready for my father’s party. I cannot express to Amanda how grateful I am for her help.

Finally I ask Amanda if it would be possible to add a trim of loose white silk to the top of the dress, the top of the shoulders and the bottom of the sleeves. In the end the dress design that Amanda has drawn for me looks lovely. My shoulders and upper chest are left bare and the sleeves start at my upper arm and end at my wrists. The dress looks better than I thought possible. I thank Amanda profusely and go back to mother so that we can pick up the other dress and return home.

***

Simple Twists in Reality - Part VII

I wake up to beautiful sunlight streaming through my window, but to my surprise, the light is blue rather than yellow. I glance out to the street and notice that the road, houses, trees and all have been covered with a thick layer of small white snowflakes. It looks to me like Christmas may have come early.

I get dressed, with the help of my maid Catherine, and go down stairs. This is when I realise why my mother had not come in to pester me to wake up and get ready; she is talking to Michael. I am at a loss as to why he is here. I walk down to the parlour, where they are situated, and greet Michael with a pleasant smile.

“Oh darling, there you are! Michael has just come over to ask if you would like to attend the ballet with him this evening. Isn’t that a lovely thought? I am sure you will have no trouble in finding something to wear as we are going to the fitters very soon and will be able to pick up that new dress you ordered.”

“Well that is very kind of you to ask Michael, however we have a prior engagement. We are having dinner at the Winchester’s tonight for their son has recently been away to visit his cousin and we are celebrating his return. Also I believe that father would not approve of the outing as he has banned me from going to any theatre events with anyone other than family. I am, however, very honoured by your proposal. Maybe another time.” I smile innocently and see that Michael seems both insulted and relieved. His mother must have put him up to this. Mother on the other hand looks outraged.

“Oh, Elizabeth, I am sure your father could make an exception when such a marvellous and rare offer has been made. We may see the Winchesters another time and you will be able to talk to Lewis tomorrow night at the ball. I can make the apology for your absence and explain the situation. And anyway, you would love the ballet. I really think you should go.”

“Ms Elliot, please. If Miss Elliot has a prior engagement then I have no wish to interrupt. On the contrary, I would much rather that she attend her dinner and send my regards. I will have the pleasure of seeing your daughter tomorrow night.” Michael, having said something, shocks my mother into silence.

“You… You would?” she stammers.

“I would.” replies Michael.

“Oh… Well in that case I am afraid that Elizabeth and I really must be off to the fitters. We have an appointment and mustn’t be late. Elizabeth, I will just grab my coat. Do you want me to get yours for you?”

“Yes, thank you mother.” I reply.

As mother leaves I walk over to Michael. “Going to take one of your harlots to the ballet instead are you?”

“Elizabeth, just because you have never participated in anything fun does not mean that the remainder of the world has to be chaste. If you knew the women that I surround myself with, you yourself may want to be one of them.”

“I can assure you that there is nothing about the girls you surround yourself with that appeals to me in any way. And I am sure that I would never fit. You would probably remove me.”

“Persephone, you are a very beautiful girl.” Michael’s knowledge of Greek Mythology surprises me. “Let us be honest. You have the figure every girl desires, your face is very pretty, and you have a flowing river of deep brown hair. You would not do so bad as a ‘harlot’ as you call them yourself” I am so astonished I can hardly speak, how can he be so crude?

“Men do not approach you due to your infamous reputation. Then again there is that of your mother’s reputation which also sends them away. Half the men are afraid that your mother may think that they are going to ruin your reputation and thus they will be tortured and lectured to and still not have anything to show for it, and the other half think that there is no way that you will be interested in having any fun.”

Michael walks closer to me, takes my hand and kisses it. The kiss is one that suggests passion. I can feel my glove being sucked away from my skin. And then it is over. Far too short to be considered a respectable goodbye. Then Michael is gone and I am left standing alone in the parlour and feeling very confused. Does he like me or is he just teasing?

Mother comes back in and herds me out the door, on our way to the fitters.

***

Simple Twists in Reality - Part VI

The remainder of the day passes without any further excitement and I find myself at the end of it, wishing that I had gone to Lewis’ with my mother when she had gone to complain. Ever since I discovered that Lewis has returned from his trip I seem to want to spend almost all my time with him. I am sure, however, that my nagging feeling can be tamed until tomorrow night.

I go into the sitting room and find my father by the fire. Small drops of water are colliding violently with our windows, making a thunderous noise. I suspect that tomorrow they will all have turned to ice. I hope that it snows for father’s party. That would give the evening a lovely feel.

I decide to go to bed early so that I am energetic and refreshed for tomorrow. I only hope that I am able to get to sleep in this noise.

***

Simple Twists in Reality - Part V

This morning mother is quite mentally unstable and is telling me that I am never to see Lewis again, that he is a terrible young man and that she is going to go over to their house to tell his mother about this ridiculous incident. I feel absolutely horrid knowing that what Lewis actually gave me is something my mother would love. I also hate the idea of mother banning me from seeing him again. Though I am sure that there must be something good in all this otherwise Lewis would not have planned it.

As it turns out, when mother went over to their house, Lewis had already told his mother what he had bought me and shown his mother the earrings. She had thought that as Lewis and I had been friends forever it was not so inappropriate and she knew that I would take it as a joke. She also thought that the earrings were to die for and would make up for any grievance over the garter.

Due to my mother’s pride and want for a working social life and good reputation, she pretended to find the whole incident very funny and had only come all the way to thank Lewis personally for being so considerate as to give her daughter such a lovely pair of earrings.

I have only just learnt all this. As mother relays the information of her adventure I am quite astonished to hear that Lewis’ mother would find such a thing funny, though she does have that slightly inappropriate streak that seems to run so strongly in her son. Mother tells me we are still invited to dinner tomorrow. She also informs me that father is holding a ball in honour of a great business deal he has just secured and that everyone will be invited. She explains that it is on Sunday evening and that we are going to get me a new dress at the fitters tomorrow, prior to going to Lewis’ house.

It is no surprise that, of course, both Michael and Henry are invited to father’s ball but I am never the less excited for the occasion. It will be one to remember. An added advantage is that it will give Lewis and I some time to catch up properly. I decide that I will wear the new earrings that he has given me.

***

Romantic Quotes

 “I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the heart’s affections, and the truth of imagination.”- Keats

“Imagination is the real and eternal world of which this vegetable universe is but a faint shadow.” - Blake

“ The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing that stands in the way. Some see nature all ridicule and deformity… and some scarce see nature at all. But to the eyes of the man of imagination, nature is imagination itself.” - Blake

“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” - Percy Shelley

“Poetry is a mirror which makes beautiful that which is distorted.”- Shelley

“The pleasure that is in sorrow is sweeter than the pleasure of pleasure itself.” - Shelley

Simple Twists in Reality - Part IV

At home we all collapse into our parlour chairs. “Well, that was a good night don’t you think?” asks father.

“Elizabeth, I don’t understand why you fraternize with that ridiculous young man. What he does is simply not respectable.” Wonderful, another lecture from mother.

“Mother, he is my friend. You can’t just make me stop seeing him. Father, I am feeling quite tired after that. Thank you so much for taking us. I truly loved it. Now, if you will excuse me, I will make my way to bed.” I kiss my father on the cheek and leave the room, walking up two flights of stairs and into my bedroom.

I take the gift that Lewis gave me from my bag and look at it. It is small and looks like a box. It is wrapped in gold and cream paper and there is a card with ‘Elizabeth’ written on it is atrocious penmanship. I can identify it immediately as Lewis’. I can’t help but wonder why he would have given me this. I open the letter first and read what it says:

Dear Elizabeth,

We have been friends for a long time, as I am sure you remember. I am terribly sorry that I missed your seventeenth birthday while I was visiting my cousin in England and am thus determined to make up for it. This is a small gift, not only as a birthday present but also as a token of appreciation for being such a dear friend and companion all this time, against the obvious wishes of your mother.

I hope that now I am back we will be able to spend more time in one another’s company. I have missed you immensely and it is my dearest wish that we will not be separated for such a lengthy period of time anywhere in the near future.

Your dearest partner in greatness,

Lewis

I look at the small square box for a moment before I reach over and start unwrapping. Inside is a jewellery box that has clearly come from Hutchinson & Co. the most respectable and expensive jewellers in town. I open the box to find a pair of beautiful white gold and diamond earrings. They are the most exquisite things I have ever beheld.

I lift them up to admire them further and place them in my jewellery box. When I come back to what I assume to be an empty box, I see a white lace garter with a blue streak in it. Placed neatly on the garter is a small note that says:

This is for your mother, to make sure that her opinion of me never improves. Tell her that this is what I gave you. Say nothing of the earrings.  

I laugh to myself, knowing that when my mother sees this she will become the living embodiment of Mount Vesuvius, ready and about to erupt. I rip off Lewis’ signature from the note and place it back on the garter. Then I close the box and put the real card and the remainder of the note in a drawer. Then I get ready for bed, intending to let mother find the present when she comes to me in the morning.

***

Simple Twists in Reality - Part III

As we get ready to leave the theatre my mother sees Lewis and his family. They are well off and upper class like us. I used to play with Lewis when I was younger and we are still friends. Mother believes that he almost compromised my reputation but I think that is rubbish.

He is a lovely young man who does not like to put product in his hair, which is slightly too long to be respectable and is the color of dark crimson. He is very tall, taller than most young me his age, being 20. He has strong limbs that fit his frame very well, and his eyes are a most adamant blue. He is most agreeable and about the only man I seem to be able to get along with, excluding my father.

My mother rushes over to them and starts gossiping with Maria, Lewis’ mother. Lewis walks over to me and hugs me, which my mother will tell me later was extremely inappropriate.

“So, how are things on your end?”

“Well,” I reply, “Mother is smothering me as usual but it is always a pleasant surprise to see you.”

“Why Miss Elliot, are you having lustful thoughts about a man? I can hardly believe my ears!”

“Well, to be honest with you, I can barely keep my hands from tearing you free of your material constraints [making a pointed look at the buttons of his shirt], you are looking so erotic in that new vest.” We both smile and Lewis starts laughing. I love his laugh and hearing it makes me laugh. Soon our laughter is almost uncontrollable and Lewis has to place a hand on my shoulder while being bent over double, to stop himself from falling over.

Mother walks over briskly, having obviously just finished her conversation with Ms Winchester, and takes Lewis’ hand off my shoulder. She is clearly upset. “Lewis dear, you are drawing attention to yourself, and thus my daughter, in an undesirable way. I know you two are close and it must be lovely to catch up. Elizabeth, we are going to have dinner with the Winchesters on Saturday. Lewis, I believe that your mother is wanting to leave and would like you to return to her. She is feeling quite tired.” I stare at her with an open mouth. I close it.

‘Mother, you don’t honestly…”

“Elizabeth, we must also leave so you had better get your things ready.”

I turn to Lewis and see him smiling the way only he does, meaning that he is thinking of something mischievous. If it is anything along the lines of what I am thinking, he will see my mother drowning in a vat of hot oil. Mother walks away to leave us to our goodbyes, though I have the experience to know that if we are not quick she will come right back again.

“Sorry about that. She was really quite rude and I can only beg that you will forgive her.”

“Honestly Elizabeth, you do not have to be polite to me. I know your mother does not care for me. I shall see you within the week. We will have to organise something soon.” I agree. Lewis takes my hand and I feel a small wrapped box and a card fall into my open palm. I look up at him. “Open it when you are alone,” is his only reply.

He turns to my mother and speaks loud enough to attract the kind of attention he knows will annoy her and says, “Lovely to see you again Ms Elliot. I look forward to seeing you on Saturday.” Then he turns to me one last time, takes my hand, and says, “I look forward to seeing you on Saturday.” He kisses my hand for just a second too long, and then walks back over to his mother.

***

Simple Twists in Reality - Part II

Four days prior

And then came the gunshot… A scream reverberates through the air and I can’t help but snigger at the idea. I mean, after all, it is just a play. The actors are marvelous and continue on as though nothing has happened. The lady who screamed is in her seat, fanning herself and having a man near by fuss over her. I suspect her vocal chords are going to take some time to recover.

At the end of the scene I clap enthusiastically, wanting the actors to know that they are doing a great job. I love theatre. It is rare for me to be able to get out of the house and enjoy myself, and the theatre is one place where I truly feel at home. The floor plan for the entire place is visible in my mind.

There is something about the whole experience. Not just the performance and the feelings you get while watching, but the plush seats, stuffed to perfection so that you can’t feel the wooden frame underneath; the Rhodolite garnet carpet, with its gorgeous patterns and texture making me want to slide off my shoes and walk bare foot through the whole place; and the stage, with its grand curtains of crimson velvet, its polished wooden floorboards that sparkle in the light from the chandelier above, and the wide set out, allowing for exquisite props and large scenes, with walking room for the actors.

Even the outside makes it look like a palace, a place where only kings and royalty would be admitted. It is a high, white marble building with large glass doors and stone steps leading up to it. There are places where the roof has been bordered with gold, making it look like something out of a painting. It is one of the most beautiful buildings of my acquaintance.

Opera is my favorite, especially in French or Italian. I love foreign languages and am learning Italian currently. I am already fluent in English, French and Latin.

My father likes the theatre as well, so we try and attend as often as possible.

When the play finishes, I clap until my hands are sore. I have an undying urge to stand up and show them just how great a feat they have accomplished, but know that I would be scolded for doing so. My father always tells me that if I am ever to find a husband I am never going to be able to accept an invitation to a play by an eligible young man due to my undesirable behaviour in such an environment. My mother, however, tells me that I am humiliating myself and my family, and that it is ‘not the behavior of a young lady’.

Honestly I could not care less what my mother thinks, but I would never tell her that. I am not a perfect young lady and currently I have no interest what-so-ever in finding myself a husband. If I am to get married it will be to a man that I truly adore. Of course, both my mother and my father have ideas for a man for me.

Mother’s idea is a young man called Michael. He is very wealthy, has a title and belongs to one of the oldest families in New York. He is the most wanted bachelor in the city and is very good looking. I don’t see how he could ever fancy me, and I don’t care for him regardless. He is selfish and has tickets on himself. The only topic that seems to interest him is, well… him.

Michael, in my opinion, is very boring. You will never find him dressed in anything but a suit, unless of course he is entertaining young ladies, which I have heard he is quite fond of doing. He is your typical, tight young man, perfect for any mother’s daughter. His hair is a sort of oak-wood color and he uses enough product to make it shine and sparkle in the light. He likes to show off his wealth by wearing velvet or silk waistcoats and fashionable ties. Quite often he will wear a top hat to pull all his attire into one fashionable and expensive, over-the-top blunder.

Most of the time his appearance just makes me want to laugh, however I stop myself, knowing that if I did my mother would never forgive me for embarrassing her so spectacularly. Michael is a very tall and very lanky sort of man. He has no muscle, unless you count the unused, pathetic ones he was born with, although he does seem to pull off the whole thing very well. This could be due to his broad shoulders and strong chin bone.

There is not a single young lady in this city that would not give everything to go on an outing with him and have the possibility of him as a husband. His sister seems very proud to have such a dashing brother and sometimes I think I see her look at him in a lustful sort of way herself, though I am sure that is due only to my overactive imagination.

My mother, his mother, his auntie and his grandmother are all in the same bridge club, so mother believes that she has a way in, or in other words, a way to make Michael see me as a good prospect. According to mother, Michael’s mother Lucy, and his grandmother Anna, both believe Michael and I to be a marvelous match.

This is mainly due to the fact that I am known throughout the city, by all the mothers, to be the perfect Venetian virgin, meaning that I have never seen a man even slightly under dressed, have never had any lustful thoughts, and have never had any sexual relationship of any sort with a boy. This is true and I am slightly ashamed to admit it. However, mother is very proud and believes that even though many of the young men may not want me, their mothers do and they have the bigger say in the matter. This does not comfort me.

In my opinion Michael’s mother only wants me as her daughter in law because she believes that I am sensible and that my reputation will cast away all the bad things said about her son, involving other young women.

My father’s matchmaking subject is a man of the age of twenty-one, whose name is Henry. Henry is also a very eligible bachelor of a good family and fortune. He is related to the English royalty, which sparks interest within my mother. He is also quite handsome with dark brown shaggy hair that he slicks back, however there is one rogue curl at the front, which refuses to be tamed.

Out of the two he is the more desirable, in my opinion, though I would rather choose for myself. Henry loves literature and seems happy to talk about things he knows I like. He is aware that when I was young my father took great care and pride in making sure that I had the best education available. I believe he likes this idea. I suspect that I am one of the only young ladies in New York capable of playing classical piano, speaking more than one language fluently and knowing about almost all subjects. History has always been my favorite, with stories of gallant young men, such as Arthur Pendragon, who treat ladies with pure chivalry and respect and who always save the day in some great feat of bravery.

 Henry seems to want a wife that will do all he says and who will be a real homemaker. Basically, not me. I can tell that he disapproves of my behavior at the theatre and he makes some comments to my parents when I do things ‘unladylike’. However, through all this, I know that he is a real traditionalist and that my reputation has obviously been leaked to him by his mother. I suspect that he considers a Venetian virgin to be the perfect kind of wife for him and that I could be just what he needs if only he could dispel some of my behaviors. 

Simple Twists in Reality - Part I

Hey guys,
So, for quite some time now I have been working on a novella. I am going to post it in sections over time and I would like to know what you think of it. The title is very rough and I am more than happy for you to suggest alternative options. :)
I hope you like it and I would like some feedback.

A glass smashes on the floor. A woman screams. A man, looking completely bedraggled and deranged is standing in the doorway, sopping wet, letting all the rain from outside soak the carpet. No one in their right mind could ever imagine doing this, particularly if they wanted people to respect them.  

His coat is gone and his waistcoat is unbuttoned. Part of his shirt is untucked and his hair is messy and displaced. I look at his clothes a bit more closely and realise that he must be from a reasonably wealthy family, due to his blue, silk bow tie and the quality of his attire. His waistcoat is red satin and he is wearing a very expensive and quality watch. Clearly someone from a respectable family. I cannot help but wonder why I have not met him before.

I feel momentarily sorry for him when I see the terrified and angry look in his eyes. My father, the host of this party, goes up to the man and asks him to leave. I cannot help myself. I simply have to do something for this poor young man who looks so lost and in need of care. Judging by his face and his youthful physique he is only about nineteen, one year older than me.

He has light brown hair that is cut quite short and, I imagine, would typically be slicked back like so many men of the upper class. As he is soaked to the skin, his shirt is sticking to his torso and I notice the faint outline of muscles. My father and mother have been very careful to make sure that I have never seen a man without both his shirt and his waistcoat on. I do not really understand what all the commotion is about.

I walk gracefully over to my father, “Honestly father, this poor man looks in terrible shape. We must show some Christian charity and at least lend him some new clothes and help him to get dry?” My father looks at me with the kind of affection that is only seen between family members.

“Your daughter is sweet, a good trait, and she has a strong sense of charity which is also desirable. However, I can’t help but think that just this once, she may be mistaken,” This comment comes from Henry, a twenty-one-year-old man whom my father wishes me to marry.

 “Oh, you don’t mind indulging me just this once, Henry. Father, we really must help him. I insist,”

***