Lucy sat before her vanity, a calm look in her eyes and a bored countenance made the two maids behind her, almost take to their knees begging. Lady Wickshire seemed very uninterested in the luncheon tomorrow, and would not even spare them a look, no matter how many dresses they brought out. They were nervous.
Mrs Muburg had come herself to make sure the lady got the best service. Their instructions were clear; to get Lady Wickshire to appear at the luncheon. They had talked all day long, using all their experiences in serving to try and entice the lady to take an interest, but she had not even graced them a glance.
"I hear the Dockstorm young lord will be there. He got a royal appointment last bloom," Taylor said with a coy smile.
"A handsome young lord; I hear there will be lots of them come tomorrow's luncheon," Mrs Muburg smiled. They had hoped talk of men would steer the lady to start a conversation, yet, no matter how long they spoke, they only ended up looking stupid.
Shilla walked in on the two trying to chat up Her Ladyship and frowned. She had thought they would be wiser. The lady was not like others, she could not be led by the chin.
"What do you think, Shilla?" she heard Taylor ask. Swallowing her frown, she turned to the lady.
"My lady, Lord Morge and Lord of Merve have arrived to see you. They are waiting in the fourth tea room," Shilla said and Lucy got up at last. The maids rushed after her and Mrs Muburg snuck away halfway there.
Lucy arrived at the tea room and the two gentlemen stood as she arrived. Looking at the maids by the corner, they knew what to expect. Society scorned a girl of honourable upbringing meeting alone with the opposite sex.
"My lady," they made a bowing gesture at the girl half their height. Her face remained unchanged at the sight of them. She did not offer a greeting in return, which neither surprised them nor did they take offence; they were used to her attitude. She sat before them and before they could open their mouths, they were graced by three people they needed no introduction to recognize.
This was the headmistress, Mr Wensworth and Lady Dustaine. The three curtsied before the noblemen.
"Lord Morge, Lord of Merve, it's an honour to have you in my institution," the headmistress said. They had to give it to her. She was implying that they had made a visit for her. The two noblemen did not bother to get up, as they cared not for societal norms. Lord Morge's usually hardened face could not get harder, as he looked away without acknowledging those before him. Lord of Merve struck his usual side smile and looked away. They did not invite the three to sit and join them, as they turned to Lucy, who had not turned to see who was behind her.
"I think you will like my visit much better, today," Lord Morge said.
"Did something good happen?" Lucy asked.
"Yes, it can be classified as good," Lord of Merve said.
The headmistress, Lady Dustaine and Wensworth froze in place. Though they knew they were joining in without invitation, they never thought the two noblemen would disregard etiquette and completely ignore them. They were not invited to sit and were left standing. The headmistress came today to integrate herself with Lady Wickshire and become a mentor of some sort to the lady. She knew very well that the lady grew up without a mother. She had hoped to stand in for her mother during an important visit such as this.
She had invited her friend, Lady Dustaine; who had her eye on Lord Morge and Wensworth who wanted an opportunity to get in Lady Wickshire's good graces.
Never in her years had she been so embarrassed. But, she would not be a revered woman of society if she let such things show on her. She remained smiling, as though no such thing had taken place. Though she could not butt heads with the gentlemen, she could with Lady Wickshire.
"Lady Wickshire it is rude to not introduce people. That is the first thing you should do in a gathering," she said, taking a seat beside Lucy with a smile on her face.
If an outsider had heard her manner, one would compare her to a loving mother teaching her daughter. The three took the silence as an opportunity to take up seats. Lady Dustaine sat by Lord Morge and Mr Wensworth to her side.
"You had already beaten me to it," Lucy answered almost bored. The headmistress laughed it off, seeming to take no offence in her manner, but her insides boiled. This little girl gave her no face!
"Lord Morge, this is Lady Dustaine, she is a very good friend of mine," the headmistress introduced. She felt she had done a good deed for her friend by introducing her. This was the time when Lord Morge would respond, but Lady Dustaine did not give him a chance as she rushed on.
"It is an honour to meet you, my lord," she greeted.
"Likewise," Lord Morge answered sharply.
"I hear your trade in the seaside countries has been forthcoming," she immediately started a conversation. Lord Morge seemed like he had lost his patience.
"Thank you," he quickly said before turning to Lucy.
"The little man was one of a kind," he said, continuing his conversation, ignoring the lady beside him. If he allowed them to continue this aimless conversation, he feared it would divert into such pointless talk as the weather and geography. His manner warranted Lord of Merve to chuckle.
"He had nerve, I'd say," he said to Lucy as though he had not noticed the people around him.
"Was he of any help?" Lucy asked.
"Lots. I wonder where you find these people," Lord of Merve answered.
"We went on his suspicion and returned with the find," Lord Morge said.
"You have retrieved it all, I'd assume?" Lucy asked.
"And more. I suspect the time for the gun to turn has arrived," Lord of Merve said solemnly.
"How much?" Lucy asked, her curiosity had peeked.
"Too much. It can't possibly be theirs too. Something is wrong with the entire find. I know it," Lord Morge said.
"If something is wrong, you know not to keep it," Lucy said solemnly.
"We know," the two men answered at the same time.
"What do you want to do with it?" Lord of Merve asked and the room descended into silence.
Their behaviour made those ignored, turn white. What were they talking about? Lady Dustaine turned indignant; she had never been ignored like this before.
"Lady Torgenn. You know best not to meddle in the world of men," Lady Dustaine cautioned.
"Lady Dustaine. You know Lady Wickshire grew up without a mother, it is natural for her to stray," the headmistress said.
"I had thought someone of etiquette and noble standing would know something so simple," Lady Dustaine heaved. The headmistress saw this as a chance to ride on the conversation.
"I sincerely apologize for her conduct. The lady will learn with time," she said, taking a motherly stand.
In her mind, if she played it just right, the gentlemen leaving here would see her as a motherly figure to the lady and soon society would relate her to the lady. If she played it well enough, she could suppress this little girl under her armpit. Children like these who are yet to see the world, need a little guidance; one that she hoped would develop into reliance. It did bother her a little about their conversation; it did seem serious.
Why would a girl of such age talk about things of that level of importance? But looking at the small figure of the girl, suspicion drained from her mind. They were probably indulging her. A child of Lord Torgenn, who had more money than any nobleman in the kingdom, they needed to indulge her once in a while.
Wensworth, on the other hand, grimaced. Why had he allied himself with such a dull woman? He had told her before not to underestimate the Lady Wickshire, yet she seemed to have not heard him. He knew this lady was a scary one. Who were Lord Morge and Lord of Merve? They were amongst the most influential in noble society. Nobody even the Lord Torgenn dared not to give them face. They talked to the lady before them, not as though they were equals, but like her little minions. He could feel sweat from under his shirt.
Lord of Merve looked at the two ladies with contempt. He could feel the anger radiating off Lord Morge, who looked at the lady beside him. Lady Dustaine shrunk back at the dangerous look in Lord Morge's eyes. She felt extremely wronged. Silence descended as most could feel the dangerous air in the room. The headmistress was about to say more when she choked on her words. What was this feeling in the air? She felt as though the two men wanted to cut her into a thousand pieces.
"Do nothing. Let's see how they play this out," Lucy's bored voice lifted the darkness and lightened the air.
Lord Morge and Lord of Merve nodded and got up. They made a full bow to Lucy.
"We'll take our leave, then," Lord Morge said then they nodded to the others before leaving. Lucy couldn't care less about them, as she made to leave.
"Lady Torgenn. Even though you are without motherly attention, you should not lack basic etiquette," Lady Dustaine said. Her voice and eyes shot daggers at the small back that had paused midway.
"Really? What etiquette did I lack, Lady Dustaine? Please enlighten me," Lucy turned and stared coldly at the woman before her.
"Did you not know that a woman is to remain silent when men are talking?" Lady Dustaine asked.
"Did you not see that they were talking to me? Or you thought they came all this way, left their homes and study to sit before me to discuss their matters-of-men? Or were you too busy trying to gain the attention of Lord Morge, you lost all brain cells?" Lucy asked mildly.
Lady Dustaine choked on her words. She knew Lucy spoke truth. The two men were in fact speaking to her, but she had no intention of admitting that.
"Lady Torgenn!" the headmistress reprimanded.
"There is only one Lady Torgenn and she is six feet under. Do you really wish me dead or you; as the headmistress of this institution of etiquette, cannot even remember a person's formal title?" Lucy turned her attention to the headmistress.
Though her words seemed to rebuke the woman, her tone and manner sounded as though she was making small talk.
"Lady Wickshire, then; I had heard that you prefer to be addressed in that title of power. It is alright. What were you and the noblemen discussing?" the headmistress said mildly, as though indulging a child.
"Lady Beaumont, the registry of the Ministry of ownership and lineage has it recorded that I, Lucy Sharterux, daughter of Lord Torgenn, am in formality, Duchess of Wickshire. But I do not expect a woman of noble standing; who bothers only for sewing patterns and tea curtseys, to understand something as important as the workings of any ministry. It matters not, you are forgiven," Lucy said mildly, her tone soft as though talking to a friend. Though her eyes remained cold, she gestured indulgently, portraying herself as benevolent.
The headmistress turned red; half from anger and the rest from embarrassment. Was she being looked down on?
She did not expect the little girl before her to be so good at layering words. She addressed her as though she was a child as she intended to be the motherly one, yet was turned into the child. She was forgiven? She does not remember apologizing! Though she looked down on this girl, she never expected she was really officially, Lady Wickshire. Was it possible she was lying? She coughed away the lump in her throat.
"It matters not what your title may be dear, you are still a girl. What serious thing could a girl possibly have to discuss with two such noblemen," she maintained her smile. This was society. Even though she was angry inside and wished to tear apart this girl before her, etiquette demanded women smile and talk mildly as they fought with words. She maintained her motherly tone. Though it seemed stiff now, she still had confidence that this was a little girl she could squeeze under her wing.
"Serious? The noblemen and I sat with you all when we talked. Something so simple is hard to understand? Oh... It is my wrong. Women of noble standing such as your esteemed self, engage in greater knowledge such as tea and matters of weather. One need not expect more as it is beneath you," Lucy softly said.
"You..." Lady Dustaine seemed to have reached her breaking point, but could not conjure the words to match her anger.
"Given that I forgot to invite you when I welcomed the two noblemen, I will not lack so much etiquette as to continue to take up space. As you had all made yourselves comfortable needless of invitations, I suspect you must have an urgent need for a tea room. Forgive my intrusion. I will take my leave," Though Lucy's words led one to think her rebuking their actions, her tone as she gestured to them and the room made her look like a benevolent queen taking care of her subject's needs.
She strode out of the room, leaving them white as paper. Through it all, Mr Wensworth said not one word, as though hoping to be forgotten. He heaved a sigh when Lucy had completely left the room with her maids.
