Work in progress novel as I write it!-----------------------------------------------------------
At exactly three minutes of
eight Liza made her way down the stairs, past the study, to the first floor
dining room. Her Grandfather’s row home was not a mansion, but it was
pleasantly roomy. He had done well overseas and this afforded a comfortable
house. Liza gave her Grandfather a hard time, she knew, but she was grateful
that he had taken her in after the death of her parents. It could not have been
easy for him to find out, upon his retirement from her Majesty’s army, that he
would become the caretaker to a little rambunctious 13 year old in pigtails and
a dirty sundress.
And now, six years
later, she was no longer little but still rambunctious. Tonight however, she
had cleaned herself up, even going so far as to have the upstairs maid help her
arrange her hair into something decidedly un-pigtail like. She had also
scrubbed her face and put on clean clothes, a dress this time.
She came into the parlor
to find her grandfather already entertaining his guests. Standing near the
roaring fire was a tall thin man, whose thinness and height seemed even greater
next to Liza’s stout grandfather. This, she knew, was Colonel James Rodney
Thornsberry. He had served with her Grandfather in India as his
second-in-command. He had a haughty air and a pencil thin mustache, but was
nice enough, she guessed. She would have liked him a bit more if he had been
capable of talking about anything other than his life in the army. He would
prattle on for hours about what he used to do, how well he did it and how much
he missed it.
Seated on a small
settee to the side of the fireplace was a young girl with black hair done up in
a severe style. She had on a dark blue velvet dress down out with black
ribbons. She had a rather sour look on her face, dull grey eyes and pursued
lips and sat with her back so straight is was as if someone had stuck a broom
down her back. Liza steeled herself inwardly. She had met this type before-
stuck up uptight and nary a single original thought worth mentioning.
It was going to be
a long evening.
“Ah, here is my
Granddaughter now Thornsberry. You remember her.”
“Ah yes, of
course. So lovely to see you again.”
Liza gently shook
his proffered hand and smiled.
“Allow me to
introduce you to my niece, Ms. Mary Petronilla Gosling. She is my sister’s
daughter, my, ah, niece.”
“I am so happy to
make your acquaintance Mary.” Liza said, trying to sound as bland and
nonthreatening as possible. Mary smiled without moving any other part of her
body other than he mouth and her right hand, which she offered up to Liza.
“Likewise.”
Liza wanted to
scream, but instead smiled back and turned to the Colonel. “So, your sister is
in town then?”
“Oh no, no. Emma
felt it would be good for Mary to see the city, take in the sights. You know,
do the city tour.”
“You’re not from
London then?” Liza turned back to Mary.
Mary shook her head almost imperceptibly.
“Up north.” the
Colonel said, as if that explained everything.
“Well! I am sure
Liza would be happy to show Mary around town, show her the sites as it were.”
Liza’s Grandfather bellowed. Liza shot him glance.
“I am sure you are
already very busy.” Mary said quickly.
Yes, yes! Liza
wanted to scream, but instead she said “Oh no, of course not. I’d be glad too.”
And I also want to stab my hand with a dinner fork, she thought.
Dinner was not a total disaster.
Liza was able to keep things moving along, although the effort to keep things
light and to get Mary to say more than three words practically did her in. By
the time desert was brought in Liza was on the very last of her polite stories
and charming anecdotes and was about to launch into a detailed discussion of
how she planned to take Mary to the Thames and shove her in. She had never been
to glad to see sherbet in her entire life.
After dinner, as
the four of them left the dining room, Liza’s grandfather suddenly turned to
Liza. “Why don’t you show Mary your laboratory? I am sure she’d like that.”
Liza was
mortified. Why would some stuck up socialite want-to-be have any interest in
something other than dresses or parties?
“Well, I don’t
think, that is, I am sure we could play cards instead, right Mary?” Liza turned
to Mary. To her surprise she saw, for the first time that night, a light in
Mary’s previously dull eyes.
“Oh, yes, could
we? I mean, just for a moment. I hate to intrude, but that would be ever so
interesting if we could?”
“Well, yes, yes, of course then. Follow me.” Liza led
Mary up the stairway. She had a wide grin on her face. Maybe this girl would
turn out to be slightly interesting after all.
No comments:
Post a Comment