Chapter 1
Elizabeth watched as Miss Neville once again demonstrated the art of fan holding. Who knew there were so many ways to hold a fan. She watched as her tutor flicked her wrist and the fan effortlessly unfolded and the tall blonde began to flutter the lacy contraption in front of her face.
She couldn’t figure out how mastering this was going to help her look more appealing to suitors. Did men really care if you could open these things with one hand and look pretty while you were suffocating? Surely that wouldn’t make or break your chances of a marriage proposal.
“Mother, is this absolutely necessary?” she asked her mother who sat quietly across the room working on her needle point.
“Elizabeth, you have finished your second season and not a single offer has been received. It stands to reason that your skills need polishing. And your father believes a refresher course might help.” Martha Talbot responded without even looking up from her sewing.
Elizabeth sighed as she repeated the flick just as Miss Neville had done 50 times before, finally accomplishing the task to her satisfaction, enough for her to move on to the next subject, the curtsy. She always felt that some curtsies were over dramatic. Once she saw a girl go almost to the floor during her coming out ceremony as she greeted the Queen. It was painful to watch.
She wasn’t sure why she was practicing this, she had been curtsying since she was able to walk, like most young girls. It was one of the first duties you learned, how to properly greet anyone of noble title, especially Their Majesties. She had only been in the presence of the King and Queen a couple of times, one of those times was at her coming out ceremony.
Finally after enduring Miss Neville for what felt like an eternity she was released from torture and allowed to sit in the garden and paint. It was her favorite activity, and she felt she was somewhat good at it. Not as good as her sister Gwen at playing the piano, but a family only needed one musician. She wanted to create something that would be around longer than she was.
Elizabeth changed into her painting frock and made her way down to the garden, where one of the household staff had set up her easel and supplies. She turned her easel towards the back gate of the gardens. After mixing up her paints and laying them out on her palette, she picked up a brush and began creating the scene in front of her. The only sounds were the birds in the trees and the sound of her brush as it swept across the canvas.
That evening Elizabeth dressed for dinner with her parents, she would never understand why they must dress for dinner when it was just the family. Bernadette, her lady’s maid, helped her with her dress, and hair. She didn’t know what she would do without Bernadette. She would never be able to put on her corset and dress alone, she was pretty sure it was impossible. The most she could do was brush her hair, and tie it to the side, maybe a braid, but Bernadette could make art work with hair. She would always get compliments on her hair at the dances she would attend, and she would always share those with her when she returned home.
“Thank you Bernadette.” Elizabeth said, as the girl stepped back so she could take a look in the mirror. “It’s beautiful, as always.” she said to her with a genuine smile and a gentle touch on her arm. Bernadette curtsied and left the room. Elizabeth followed her down the stairs to the dining room and took her seat to her fathers right, though her mother and father had yet to arrive downstairs. She knew her father had been late getting home from a meeting with his accountant. She hated the days he would meet with Mr. Finley, he usually returned in a horrible mood. It always made dinner awkward and silent because neither she or mother wanted to say anything to anger him.
Elizabeth looked up as she heard the soft russel of her mothers skirts coming through the door. She smiled at her as she took her seat at one end of the table, then her father took his seat at the head of the table with a scowl on his face. Elizabeth closed her eyes, this was going to be one of the dinners she would hope to end early, how she wished her sister was here, she could always calm him with one of her songs.
She watched as Daniel Talbot waved his hand and the staff began bringing in trays of food. Setting a dish of soup down at each place setting and quickly retreating to the wall. Elizabeth picked up her soup spoon and delicately dipped it into the liquid and put it to her mouth. She loved the cook’s mutton broth, it was like comfort in liquid form to her. Their cook was known for many dishes among the nobles in Mayfair where they kept a summer home.
With her father holding the current title as Earl of Shrewsberry, they split their time between their country estate in Staffordshire and Mayfair in London for business. Elizabeth preferred their country home, less expectations to be proper there, less people to impress. She would dream of being a normal person, not a daughter of an Earl, she wanted to be normal.
“How did the tutoring go this afternoon?” the Earl asked as the staff took the mutton broth away and replaced it with a plate of roasted vegetable and venison with a butter sauce.
“She did very well, my Lord. Miss Neville is an excellent teacher. I am sure with the next ball she will have many suitors vying for a spot on her dance card.” her mother replied with an encouraging smile. Elizabeth didn’t understand. Why were they so worried about marrying her off? She was only 16, and her sister had just married the Marquess of Dorset, William Grey, last year. They were expecting their first child in a few months, so why worry about who she married?
“I am hoping to have a marriage proposal by the Christmas ball.” her father said, picking up his wine and taking a drink. Elizabeth wondered if all girls’ fathers wanted to marry them off so quickly, or was it only in noble families? She felt her appetite disappear, she placed her fork down and just stared at her plate.
She listened quietly as her mother and father discussed the plans for their annual Christmas masquerade ball. Usually this was a night she looked forward to, the music, the dancing, the magic of Christmas in the air, this year though she was most likely going to be sold off to the highest bidder. All she wanted to do was be happy, and right now that didn’t include a husband. What was so wrong letting her wait a few years and find someone that made her happy? Would that be so wrong? To marry for love?
Somehow she managed to make it through the entire dinner, not drawing attention to herself. Finally back in her room, Elizabeth let the tears escape. She felt she didn’t belong here, with the rules and expectations. Tomorrow she would take Bernadette and they would go to the market, get away from this place for a while. Maybe that would help her forget for a while what her cruel fate was to eventually be.
Bernadette helped her dress for bed, helping her into her cotton night dress and robe. Elizabeth climbed into bed as Bernadette excused herself for the evening and just curled up on her side to stare out her window. She watched as the lightning flashed, and heard the distant rumble of thunder. She felt the tear escape her eye and roll down her nose then drip off onto her pillow, then another, each one mirroring the rain drops tapping on her window.
