“Oh, darling Alexa.” I laughed a little at her exuberance which I was almost sad not to share. “If gaining male attention were my only goal in life, then I would thank you. I do thank you for being so kind, but I am not for the prince,” I told her gently. “I sometimes wonder if I am for any man to marry.”
There was no tone to my voice, as far as I was aware, that suggested I was unhappy about the facts I stated, but dear Alexa seemed to take it as such. She was only a child then, of course, and worried about my welfare a great deal. Knowing as she did that I had been without parents for so long, she is and has always been very sweet in ensuring I understood I was loved.
“Emelia, so many men would wish to marry you, I am sure,” she told me, as if desperate to make me believe. “You know Bradbury always speaks highly of you.”
She smiled in a way as I hardly expected to see on such a cherubic face!
I was sure I did not know what she could mean. Alexa did have a habit of sometimes exaggerating such things. I had no doubt that Bradbury would pay me any necessary compliment, he had impeccable manners after all, but Alexa seemed to be hinting at something particular and that would be ridiculous, I was certain of it.
“You know very well, Alexa, he is Mr. Bradbury to you,” I reminded my young cousin with a serious look. “And his attentions to me are in no way unusual. We are only good friends.”
That seemed to satisfy Alexa, or perhaps she was just quite happy to change the subject back to the ball she so wished she could attend at my side. I must say I might have enjoyed the experience more in her company, but alas, she was too young. That did not stop her from regaling me with tales of her latest lessons in dancing. Bless her, she was the sweetest child then and is hardly less dear to me now, but I digress and really ought to stay with the topic at hand.
Aunt Beatrice appeared moments after Alexa helped me into my dress so that we might make certain it was suitable for the ball. Of course, it fit as perfectly that day as it had just a few weeks earlier on my nineteenth birthday. I could tell by the look in my aunt’s eyes that she was well pleased with my looks. I was not sure then, and could still not say to this day, if she had any real designs on my marrying the prince. I am sure she had in mind for me to be a wife and mother someday, if only because she believed it would greatly enhance my happiness. She certainly did not believe that the adventurous life I dreamt of could ever really be, or could make me as happy as I thought if it were.
“Darling, go and wash your hands for dinner,” she told Alexa with a smile. “Emelia and I shall be along in a few moments.”
My cousin gone, I could see that Aunt Beatrice and I were about to have a serious sort of conversation. On such a day and at such a moment, I would hardly doubt it. Up to now, I had attended parties and balls only in the company of my family, never once alone as I must tomorrow night. Until then, I had not really thought about that part of it.
“You do look quite beautiful, Emelia,” Aunt Beatrice told me, peering into the full-length mirror from over my shoulder. “So very much like your mother.”
Her voice wavered as she mentioned my Mama, her sister, Louisa. My memories of my mother are as clear now as they were then, and I did see a similarity, I always have. Still, I considered Mama to be that much more beautiful than I should ever hope to be myself.
“Thank you, Aunt,” I said with a smile. “Do you think Mama would despair of me for not being so very excited about the ball?”
The question was not supposed to come out with such a tired sigh attached to it, but I knew that was how it sounded. I also knew Aunt Beatrice might just take my words as a slight, though they were never intended as such. She herself wished I were more open to romance, I knew, and had no qualms about voicing those opinions whenever she saw fit.
“I know it is not your ambition to be a wife and mother, Emmy,” she said, encouraging me to turn so she could assist me out of the dress and all its complicated fastenings. “But I do think that your Mama would agree with me when I say that you really ought to think more realistically about your future,” she explained, as kindly as she ever said anything. “My dear, I am all for you enjoying a good daydream, for furthering your mind with the reading of books if it is your wish, but in truth... in truth, our lot is very much laid out in life to be as it was for those that came before.”
“We are women and so wives and mothers are all we must hope for.” I tried to resist the urge to roll my eyes as I translated her words.
“You make it sound as if we were all sentenced to some terrible punishment.” Aunt Beatrice smiled fondly, hanging my gown back in the closet whilst I dressed for dinner. “Romance can be pleasant enough. You know, your uncle and I... Oh, dear William, he was quite the charmer.”
Lost in a memory for a moment, I saw my aunt as the girl she used to be, young and carefree and in love. I wondered at that expression she wore, so happy and sad at the same time. It was bittersweet for her to recall those days long ago when she was so happy, eyes fixed on the wedding band upon her finger. Poor Uncle William, taken from us far too soon, taken from his love who must go on without him until her own dying day. It made me feel quite bad for appearing to shun the idea of romance in my own life.
“Perhaps love will surprise me,” I said, the words falling from my lips before I really had chance to check them. “It is supposed to turn up when least expected.” I shrugged then as my aunt turned her gaze upon me. “If it should appear, at the ball or elsewhere, to sweep me off my feet, I can at least promise not to fight it off,” I promised, smiling genuinely. “Will such a promise make you happy, Aunt?”
“For now, my dear, it will do,” she told me, walking over to take my arm.
We headed down for dinner then, my mind that much more calm about the ball tomorrow night. If only such a mood could last. I was already certain it could not.
Chapter 3
The carriage was all but prepared, the horses undergoing their final inspection by the footman before they were ready to set off. I watched from my bedroom window, shaking like the leaves on the trees outside, rattling in the evening breeze. They were afraid of falling perhaps, whilst I was far more terrified of being caught.
I had spent the last twenty-four hours, perhaps a few more, convincing myself that I was being ridiculous. It was quite vain and not entirely reasonable to think that of all the young women in the kingdom, I should be chosen by the prince as his consort. I was sure to be stood on the fringes of the crowd, marvelling at the sumptuous ballroom and sipping punch, whilst his royal highness danced the night away with girls far prettier, richer, and better endowed than myself.
It might’ve worked, my convincing myself that I should embrace the evening’s event and not be so worried, if not for darling Alexa insisting I already looked like a princess in my fine blue dress.
My cousin meant well. She almost always did. Orphaned as I was, she seemed to make a special effort to see me happy. Perhaps it was only because I had always been there in her life, in my older sister role despite our actual blood-relationship being further removed. Still, I could not match her excitement, not at all. I shall confess, I didn’t entirely try. My aim was to get through this evening with grace and a smile, and very little else.
“Begging your pardon, m’lady.”
I turned and there was Rebecca, the maid, bobbing a curtsey from the door. She had come to tell me that the carriage was ready and that it was time to go, I knew it before the words ever left her mouth. The kindly little woman helped me into my cloak, and I took in a deep breath. It was time.
Gliding down the stairs, I was mildly surprised to see that I had a full audience of not just Alexa and Aunt Beatrice, but also several of the younger staff, and Bradbury too. I assumed the maids wanted to see what one looked like when going to a ball, since they were hardly likely to ever attend such an occasion themselves. As to my cousin’s tutor, I could not imagine his reasoning, unless he just happened to be here, but given the late hour it did seem pe
culiar.
“Such an audience.” I smiled politely, even as I reached the bottom of the staircase.
Bradbury offered his hand as I reached the last step and I was grateful for the assistance, lest I trip on my long dress and go sprawling. If he noticed that my own hand was shaking, he did not mention it, and I was grateful. Still, the look on his face was such as I had never seen before. It was as if he never saw me in his life until that moment. I found myself drawn to that expression he wore, unable to look anywhere else for fully a minute, until Aunt Beatrice spoke.
“You look very well, my dear,” she told me kindly. “The prince will be enchanted.”
It was not what I wanted to hear, as she was well aware, but I kept my countenance. She meant no harm, and only to pay me a compliment I am certain.
“Indeed,” Bradbury seemed to agree with her as he finally released his grip, his hands flying behind his back as he shifted awkwardly. “You look quite beautiful, Miss. DeMontford.”
It was perhaps the loveliest thing he, or any other man that I was not related to, had ever said to me, and so unexpected. We were friends, as I have mentioned, but not in a very close way. Men and women are not so in such circumstances as ours, we only got along well and cared for the welfare of the other. He never looked upon me as a woman before, something to be complimented and looked at as he looked then, I was certain. I was uneasy about that, not only in the moment it occurred, but after, as I kissed my aunt and cousin, and promised to be back before midnight. I saw no reason to be gone any longer, and hoped to God I was right in my assumption.
“Bradbury, do escort Emelia to the carriage.”
I heard my aunt say this, and then at once I was being offered an arm, with a smile that was rarely seen.
Bradbury was not usually a happy man, or if he was, he rarely showed it. I had always assumed he was trying to appear strict and disciplined for Alexa’s sake, and yet even in my company alone, he was quite stiff and stark much of the time. He was different tonight, and for the life of me I could not think why. Perhaps he had ideas that I might win the prince’s heart and make us all rich. No, that did not fit, for had he not chuckled at the very idea of the royal heir choosing me to be his partner in life?
It was all very confusing, and baffled me long after he had assisted me into the carriage and wished me a pleasant evening. I smiled and thanked him, I think, though it is hard to recollect now. The journey to the palace was but a blur as I fought to calm my breathing and focus my mind.
I ought to have been excited to attend a ball at the palace, and I was in my own way. Seeing inside of such a place, conversing with all the other young ladies of the kingdom, it would be fun, I supposed, and interesting without question. Still, I felt as if I were a fraud just attending. I was not a lady, nor had any wish to be the type of woman that would make a good princess. Such a woman ought to be sweet, meek, and mild, as well as beautiful and elegant. I could be such things if I tried, I knew, but it was not in me to wish to.
Of all the places in the world I could think to belong, a palace was not one that even made the list inside my mind. Give me a ship to sail and I would have been content, more than that, overwhelming happy. I could see myself coping admirably well thrown in at the deep end of any adventurous situation, and yet the trivialities and fripperies of being royalty, this was what truly frightened me.
Gazing out of the carriage window, I wondered what thoughts filled the heads of all the other young women destined for the ball tonight. I could hear horses’ hooves, and wheels against the road both in front and behind us. I saw more carriages in the distance bringing maidens from beyond the hills. There were those as well off as my own family, others much poorer, and those infinitely more rich, I knew. If I had not had this knowledge already, it was evident from the state of the carriages and the numbers of horses as we neared the palace gates.
At the entrance, women of varying ages stepped out from their carriages, assisted by footmen and the like. There were dresses of every colour swishing around under long coats and cloaks, and all were beautiful in their own way.
Just as I was turning to thank the driver for his assistance, another carriage pulled up beside us, splashing up mud without a care. It narrowly missed the bottom of my dress by barely an inch or two, and no apologies were given. Indeed, the two girls in the carriage hardly noticed there was anyone present in the whole area but themselves, I was sure.
It is not in my nature to speak harshly of those whose looks are not what might be considered conventionally beautiful, and yet I will confess thinking it that moment, that if I were to look as they did, I would at the very least cultivate some manners to make up for what I lacked elsewhere! They showed as much contempt for each other as anyone, I noticed, as they each fought to get out of the carriage first and almost fell one on top of the other on the driveway.
“Emelia?”
The sound of my name quite startled me, not least because I was not paying attention. At the same time, I had not really thought of meeting anyone here whom I would know well enough to wish to speak to me. All at once I smiled when I realised who was attempting to gain my attention.
“Charlotte!” I called as I hurried to her and we exchanged greetings and pleasantries.
Of course she would be here, for she was of age and perfectly eligible. I had not thought of her before, perhaps because I was simply too caught up in my own affairs. On second thoughts, there may have been more to it than that.
Charlotte was the fifth of five daughters, in the family of Hamlin. The eldest two, Lisette and Belinda, had been married off some time ago, being as they were so much older. The third, Angelique, had suffered greatly with her health and was sadly lost two years ago at the tender age of twenty-one. It had only been after the mourning period that her younger sister, Eloise, had been permitted to plan her wedding. This left dear Charlotte behind, and at just sixteen she was the next expected to wed. On my part, I had quite forgotten she was now of age.
For a prince to choose her as his bride would be such comfort to her family, and I must confess, I would not deny such a thing to such a sweet creature. She was the kind to make a proper princess, as such a royal should be.
Perhaps it was very bad of me to think it, but I was quite sure in the moment we met again that I must indeed hide behind her in the ballroom. She would prove such a distraction for the prince, I was certain, and I should happily escape any attention I might potentially gain.
Heading inside the palace amongst so many other young ladies, I was much more at ease with a friend at my side. It occurred to neither of us that we ought to see each other as competition, even as some of those around us looked down their noses when we passed by.
Our names were taken in the entrance hall, and the queue of young ladies led almost the length of that area. Myself and Charlotte might have been in that long line for the better part of half an hour without noticing as we spoke in whispers of our lives and the surroundings and the event we were attending. Her excitement was enough to rival Alexa’s own, and I confess as time drew on I found it quite contagious. It might be something at least to say that one had met the prince!
As we reached the doors to the ballroom and were ushered inside, both myself and Charlotte realised we still had a distance to travel before we met the man himself. He was stood almost in the centre of the floor, bowing time and time again, as he took each young lady’s hand whilst introductions were made. On my part, I quite forgot to breathe for a moment when I first saw him.
Usually one only saw the prince, or any of the royal family, at a fair distance. It was easy to think that in closer acquaintance he would not be so very handsome as he was depicted. In truth, one would be quite wrong. Indeed, the prince was inordinately handsome and apparently charming. He smiled genuinely as he met each young lady attending the ball, though I was sure by this time he must be entirely bored of the procedure. He had dark eyes that sparkled under the light of chandeliers meant to impress, and sto
od tall and handsome in his white finery and gold braid.
“Oh, Emmy,” Charlotte gasped beside me. “I am sure I shall faint if he takes my hand.”
“Nonsense,” I told her with a light laugh, though in truth I was quite overcome myself, as our place in the queue of ladies grew ever closer to the prince. “As handsome and rich as royalty may be, they are only men and women, just as all other people.”
Charlotte still looked somewhat nervous, but what happened next did much to lighten the mood. There were perhaps two or three ladies left now between ourselves and the prince, so we could clearly see him as he met the latest guests. They were the two who had very nearly splashed me with their carriage on arrival, apparently sisters, it would seem. As one bent to curtsey, she quite battered the other, who responded with a definite shove of her own. The ensuing battle, for lack of a better term, was quite unseemly, but enough to raise a chuckle from Charlotte’s lips. I must say, I had to cover my own mouth to save embarrassing myself as well.
The tension in the long line of ladies seemed to break in an instant, the rest of us sure we could never look as foolish in front of both royalty and a crowd of onlookers as those that had just now been presented. I breathed a sigh of relief for all of a second or two, and then finally, it was my turn to meet the prince.
Chapter 4
“Miss. Emelia DeMontford, and Miss. Charlotte Hamlin.”
We were introduced to the prince by the duke, our hands duly taken and kissed as he bowed deeply. Charlotte and I curtseyed almost as one, a ripple of laughter passing between us as we realised our complete synchronicity. She was so very nervous about the whole ordeal, and I was scarcely less so myself. I meant what I had said before, about royalty really being of no more importance to the world than any other human being, but then this was not what had my nerves so rattled.
Fairytales Reimagined, Volume I Page 2
