Jump to content

JOIN OUR GAME!

Your Stories Await Telling

Excitement at Langdons | Monday 3rd Jan 10-ish- Xmas 1677


Hope
 Share

Recommended Posts

The figure had been lingering, the man who either Was, or only Claimed to be Abagail’s brother, rubbed his chin wondering what to do.  The Lord had said he might get to meet her today.  But was he supposed to wait for a note, or just walk on up to the door and knock?

Inside:

Charles drew a breath, and the expression on his face told her that he was drawing a proper reply.  She hardly expected that, his words had seemed plucked from the air, but perhaps he’d actually meant them.  She did not want to feel it, hope could hurt when dashed, nevertheless it lifted in her heart again as he begun his answer.

And his reply. It was beautiful, he called her a flower. Tears welled up, threatening spill over lower lashes. As he spoke on, there were things that did not seem to make sense, but other things that she was happy to hear.  And that ultimate wish, it was the same as her wish also. 

“Oh Lord Langdon.” She flung into a hug of him, burying her face into his chest. “I want a lifetime of smiles with you also.” Her reply was a little blubbed between sobs and gasps for air, “I only ran away because I thought you don’t love me anymore.  And then that Lady. The one that came to dinner. I saw how you looked at her, and. I wished it was me. I don’t want to destroy anything, I just could not bear it anymore. ”  

It was easier to admit, easier to say all these things when she was eyes-squeezed-closed-hugging.  “If you marry again, I might not be so lucky this time. Last time, the woman didn’t mind me. Next time, they might send me away. That lady you brought here did not look like she’d put up with anyone else in the house.  I might get sent away into the country.

He’d not given up on her mother yet, had been able to hold onto his hope for her longer than the grieving daughter.  As nice as it was to hear him wish for the best, further tears slid from eyes to be absorbed by his jacket. “I miss her.” Frances admitted. “I miss her so much. There is nobody else in the world just like her. Like how she used to be I mean.” Gusty sobs came now.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Charles began to digest the blubbering that he had sparked.  It seemed that his lifetime of smiles phrase had done the trick, though it had only come to him in that moment.  It seemed more appropriate for a young girl than some other innuendo.  He had also tried to avoid anything that sounded like an offer of marriage, thinking that she might be thinking of that.  Bradley had reinforced that belief in him.  Fortunately, she did not seem to take his words that way.  In fact, she seemed to allude to the idea that he would marry another.  That was interesting  He hugged Frances tight as he further considered her words.  He knelt to a knee so she might better hug him and vice versa.

"How could I not still love you Frances?"  He shifted the burden to her thereby.  "Why else would I scour the streets of London searching for you?  I would not give up on you."  Nor would he give up on Abigail, her mother.  His highest purpose was saving ladies after all.

"It is just jealousy Frances," he spoke softly.  "It flatters me, but Catherine is jealous of you too, do you know?  She saw how frantic I was that you were gone.  Might not she be wondering if I would have been as frantic if she was gone?"  He paused to let her consider that.  "She is my adult friend but you are part of my family.  Anyone that joins our family must accept that you are part of the family too," he assured her.  "No one will send you away to the country but me, which I just might do if you keep stealing my cinnamon cakes."  He tried to get her to smile as they continued to hug.  "Actually, there is nothing wrong with the country.  I find myself missing Cornwall from time to time.  It is a magical place."

The subject of her mother got her bawling again.  "I understand Frances."  He hugged her tighter.  "We'll save her together.  Have you sobbed and told her that?  Have you told her how frantic you have been to bring her back?  Tell her that you need her back?  My mother once told me Frances that mothers are never more happy than when they feel they are needed.  I did not understand it then, but I think I do now."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

His voice was warm and kind, his hold close, and knelt like that he was so accommodating.  The walls she’d built up around herself were all coming a tumbling down.  “She was jealous of me? But she, shares your bed.” Frances had never minced words on that topic. 

Still something had changed.  For she did not immediately want to place herself there.  Somehow her heartbreak had formed a distance, though she felt a very real love for him she had abandoned those girlish visions of marrying him. No longer did she call him Charles. Never again would she sneak into his bed to snuggle his warmth in the middle of the night.    

"Well I don’t miss Cornwall.” Instincts that he might foist her off rose again as he claimed Cornwall not so bad.  “It is not my home Lord Langdon, I was born and raised in London.” Some would say she was not grown yet, not so old that she could not learn to like the monotony of paddocks and hedges.

It had been a long time, if ever that she’d cried about her mother in front of Charles. Wiping her eyes on sleeve she shook her head. “There is hardly any point. I felt like an idiot singing to her with no response, I might as well sing to a brick. I wish she’d just die, and be gone from my life properly!” Emotional words from a grieving youth.     

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"Only on occasion," Charles clarified.  In the twelve days of Christmas, he had spent but a couple with Catherine Sedley.  Most every night he spent alone in the house, not that he expected Frances to be impressed with that.

"I suppose," he acknowledged when she claimed no love for Cornwall, being a city girl.  "The countryside holds an allure.  It is why the court so often has a recess, so that we can all visit our country estates."  Had she continued to act insolent, it was his plan to leave her in Cornwall for a year or two.  He had yet to rule out the idea completely even with her transformation back to a loving ward.

As for her mother, Charles was horrified at the girl's wish.  Abigail deserved no death,  He would find a way to save her on his own if he must.  "You do not really mean that," he insisted.  Had she not professed her love for her mother the instant before?  It was quite perplexing.  "I am not giving up on her," he announced.  "If singing does not work, something else might."  He was not so sure that the doctor's recommendation about making love to the woman was the best answer; but, whatever it took, he would find a way.

Releasing Frances from the embrace, Charles suggested "let's go back to the room and help Amy and Elam celebrate shall we?  By the way, would you like me to hire one of Amy's sisters to be your maid?"

Link to comment
Share on other sites

His voice was warm and kind, his hold close, and knelt like that he was so accommodating.  The walls she’d built up around herself were all coming a tumbling down.  “She was jealous of me? But she, shares your bed.” Frances had never minced words on the topic of his bedfellows, and it was a bit late for him to play coy. 

Still something had changed.  For she did not immediately want to place herself there.  Somehow her heartbreak had formed a distance, though she felt a very real love for him she had abandoned those girlish visions of marrying him.  No longer did she call him Charles. Never again would she sneak into his bed to snuggle his warmth in the middle of the night.    

"Well I don’t miss Cornwall.” Instincts that he might foist her off rose again as he claimed Cornwall not so bad.  “It is not my home Lord Langdon, I was born and raised in London.” Some would say she was not grown yet, not so old that she could not learn to like the monotony of paddocks and hedges.

It had been a long time, if ever that she’d cried about her mother in front of Charles. Wiping her eyes on sleeve she shook her head. “There is hardly any point. I felt like an idiot singing to her with no response, I might as well sing to a brick. I wish she’d just die, and be gone!” Emotional words from a grieving youth. It was hard at 13 to have an invalid mother.

Outburst done, she felt better.

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll go back.  I made a present for them but Ill give it later, maybe tomorrow.” Frances thought self exile to her room and the quiet.    The question then Charles asked came from the blue. “What would I need a maid for?”

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"Yes, jealous of you," he insisted, though he was not so sure how deep the jealousy ran.  One could never tell with women.  "She sees me ever so often and you see me every day.  Even when you are mad at me, we spend our days and nights together and will for years and years."  The mention of bed was an awkward one.  She was not supposed to know about such things but she did.  He supposed that Amy had told her all about such things.  "Well those tumbles are just a bit of fun," he replied sheepishly before attempting to change the subject.

It was clear that she would put up a fight if he left her in Cornwall.  He would need Bradley to stay with her, he supposed, but his younger brother would want to come to London as well.

"Do not give up on your mother," he cautioned.  I will save her alone if I must.

"You are a becoming a young lady and young ladies need maids to fetch things and help them dress and such," he replied "I had thought to hire you a maid and a governess for the new year.  I hope to find a governess that can teach you what I cannot."  When she mentioned a present for Amy, it reminded him of his own present for her.  "Frances, I want you to have a Happy New Year.  I had thought to get you a pet for a gift, but is there something you might like better?"  She was of an age and temperament that he was uncertain what would be appropriate.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

She listened.

And then he suggested a pet. 

If Frances had learnt anything this season , it had been that disagreeing with Lord Langdon never worked.  Perhaps all girls had to learn that eventually. She was not deliberately wanting to make life difficult for herself, but if she argued, her situation only got worse.   Right now, he'd started to loosen the reins.  She'd not heard the lock turn on her door last night, and wondered if it had not been locked for more than one night now.  He'd taken her to the Sleigh race (not that she'd gotten to see anything).  And just before he'd said he loved her, that he was going to keep her around for years. 

That was the sort of promise that meant a lot to her.  She who'd lost her father too young, and mother immediately after.

After some moments quiet she nodded her head.  "If you think it best, though really, I can dress myself perfectly well."  She had no idea what governesses actually taught girls, but would bet it involved sitting still for long periods of time, and probably needlework too.

But she did not complain of that just now.  This youngster could be quite accommodating when she wanted.  Finally Frances said, "I would quite like a budgie." 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Frances did not want a maid, o Charles was not inclined to compel her to accept one.  In truth he would rather save the coin anyway.  At least she did not fight a governess.  It was non-negotiable at any rate.

"A budgie?"  He paused to think.  "Is that a parrot?"  He had given a parrot to the King two years ago.  It still caused him to laugh at the thought of a parrot using purple language.  How could you not laugh when you heard a parrot say arse?  Sadly, that parrot would make a poor pet for a young lady.  He had been thinking she might like a og.  Canines were good at protecting a house.  "I wonder where one might find a budgie for sale," he muttered aloud.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"Or a Canary. A little bird that sings." Frances left all other thoughts behind with this most happy one.  "It shall be fine company, and it shall not take up much room, and hardly eat much either." 

"Please?" She asked as sweetly as possible. 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"A songbird," he repeated.  It was appropriate for Frances was his songbird.  Maybe the two would sing together and keep each company.  "Very well, I shall see what I can do.  I'll see if there is some sort of bird or pet shop about."  He offered her an encouraging smile knowing that it could be an easy way to make his ward happy.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Frances hugged him, "Thankyou." it was a gusty hug, after which she was cheery faced in saying, "Oh I have forgotten something, upstairs, wait right here!"

Like the child she actually was Frances raced herself away on some self appointed task, while the sounds of merry making in the kitchen rumbled along in the background.  Some five minutes later the girl reappeared and hunted him out to present him with something folded up in a white serviette.

Inside was string of small beads (the sort sold at Westminster). 

While Charles might puzzle of it, she announced it as a "It's a book mark."   Of course it was not actually a book mark, but was what she had, and was now repurposed as a gentleman’s gift. "Merry Christmas!" 

 

 

OOC: sems like this is a wrap?

 

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

A deal had been sealed.  Charles would find her a songbird.  Hugs were exchanged.  Upon presentation of the beads, Charles exclaimed "this is the nicest bookmark I have ever received."  It was to make her happy of course.  More hugs were exchanged and a feeling of greater peace descended on the young officer.  Had a problem with a wayward ward been solved in that moment?  It was hard to know, but he could only hope.

 

~ finis.  Merci!

Link to comment
Share on other sites

 Share

×
×
  • Create New...