Glass Roses: A Victorian Fairytale

by Britain Kalai Soderquist

  “I am most grateful to you for coming, Monsieur Angers. You may imagine how difficult my situation is at this time.”

  “My staff and I shall do our utmost to ensure that any legal matters will not unduly inconvenience you.” There was a pause, and I thought I heard the sound of papers being shuffled about. “These are the papers your husband brought with him from England?” Step-mamma spoke in the affirmative. “At a glance it would appear, Madame, that you are not the currently named heir to your husband’s estate. Rather a Mademoiselle Stafford is to inherit. Is she perhaps present at this moment?”

  I could bear it no longer. I pushed open the door to the salon and strode in with as much dignity as I could muster through my annoyance. “Good morning, Monsieur,” I said, speaking over Step-mamma’s surprised exclamation. “I am Mademoiselle Stafford; I believe I heard you say you wished to see me?” The solicitor looked surprised, but covered it well with an obsequious little bow; Step-mamma flushed crimson with anger. “I must admit that I am surprised at your presence here,” I continued in a polite tone. “My stepmother and I had agreed not to request your presence until we had received intelligence as to my father’s current location and state of health. And as it has been less than a fortnight since the accident, it seems a bit premature to behave as though he is already gone.” I looked pointedly at Step-mamma as I said this.

  “Ah,” hemmed M. Angers, slightly embarrassed. “I was not aware that so little was known of M. Stafford’s situation. Naturally we do not customarily begin looking into the legal concerns of the family until we have confirmation of the present owner’s demise.”

  “I hardly think that a fortnight is an insignificant amount of time,” Step-mamma spoke up, rising from her seat to better make her point. “My husband would certainly have contacted us by now if he were able to do so. I merely wish to ensure that the proper attention is given to his affairs.”

  “And it will be, when we have substantial evidence to say that Papa will not return to handle his affairs himself,” I said firmly, then turned to address the solicitor. “We shall be most grateful for your assistance in the future, M. Angers, but for the present we do not require your services. I shall see you are compensated for your time today, of course. I apologize for any inconvenience we have caused you.”

  “No trouble whatsoever, Mlle. Stafford; I am always pleased to be of service.” He glanced briefly at Step-mamma before bowing again and leaving the room. I waited until the front door had closed before speaking again.

  “What do you think you are doing?”

  “Making sure my daughters and I are provided for when it is discovered that Charles is dead,” Step-mamma said haughtily, pulling her shawl more securely about her form. “I know very well that you will do nothing for us, and so I determined to ensure that you could not cheat us out of our share.”

  “Papa has not even been declared injured, never mind killed,” I said, rage beginning to build. “How can you be so selfish as to care more about money than about whether or not you will ever see him again?”

  “I am being realistic!” she spat back. “The real world is not a fairy story, despite the delusion you have been entertaining, and I will not allow my daughters and I to be ignored simply because you believe you are superior to us!”

  “I have never understood Papa’s decision to marry you,” I said, still trying to keep my voice calm even if my words were angry. “You have done nothing but insult me and ruin my family name since you came to our home. I have done my best to look the other way for Papa’s sake, to make the best of having a new mother who is in every way inferior to my own. I have covered for your flaws, and I have done your duty in protecting your daughters from preying noblemen while you have paraded about, enjoying the consequence that comes with being connected to my family. But I will not allow you to carve up my father’s estate simply to satisfy your desire for social recognition and wealth!”

  “How dare you speak to me so, you ungrateful girl!” Step-mamma shrieked and stepped toward me in a menacing fashion, one hand lifting in the air. I held my ground, though I started with surprise at her physical reaction. My mind raced with possible ways to hinder her movements, but it was rendered unnecessary by the voice that rang across the room from the doorway.

  “Sylvia, what is going on?”

  “Charles!” Step-mamma shrieked again, this time bringing her hand to her mouth in shock. Papa stood in the doorway, his right arm tied in place before him with a length of linen. One of his eyes was mottled purple with a bruise, and there were a few cuts on his face. He seemed exhausted, and he leaned heavily on a gentleman’s walking stick.

  “Oh Papa,” I said quietly as I rushed forward. He smiled wearily at me as I reached out and gingerly laid a finger on the bruised side of his face.

  “I am quite alright, Ella dear, there is no need to make a fuss,” he said reassuringly, although it was clear he was simply trying to make me feel better. “If you would be so kind as to help me to a chair beside the fire, I would be much obliged,” he added over his shoulder, and for the first time I realized that he was not alone. Another unfortunate gasp escaped me as Rupert stepped forward and helped Papa to his seat, taking care of the bandaged arm. He glanced up at me as Papa settled himself, but I was too stunned to do more than stare at him.

  “Charles, what in Heaven’s name has happened to you?” Step-mamma asked, sinking into a seat next to him and looking as though she might faint.

  “I might ask you the same question, Sylvia,” Papa said calmly. He grunted slightly as he set his injured arm on the armrest of the chair. “Eleanor, I would like a word with your stepmother in private. Would you please go and see about having some tea brought in?”

  “Of course, Papa,” I said immediately.

  “If you no longer require my assistance, sir, I shall leave as well,” Rupert said. Papa nodded, his eyes still on Step-mamma. Rupert crossed the room and waited politely while I stepped into the hall, then closed the door behind him. We stood there for a moment not looking at one another until I was able to find my voice.

  “How did you find him?” I asked. I felt tears trying to force their way to the surface, but I swallowed them back. “I feared the worst.”

  “I knew you would,” Rupert replied. “I could not bear the thought of you waiting and wondering. I left the day after the ball. We returned as soon as we were able.”

  “I do not know how to repay you for this kindness.”

  Rupert shook his head. “There is no need. I would have done far more had it been required.” I nodded, and we were silent again for several awkward moments.

  It was almost a relief to remember that Papa had sent me on an errand. “If you will excuse me, I must see to Papa’s tea—,”

  “Eleanor, wait,” Rupert said as he reached down and took my hand. I had been avoiding his gaze from embarrassment, but now I could not look away. The morning sunlight filling the hall made the brilliant blue of his eyes sparkle. “I must speak with you now.” He sighed and then continued. “Too many times I have wanted to ask you to marry me, and in every instance I have been thwarted. When I came to Paris, I intended to propose as soon as I reached your home. But I was waylaid by a friend in the station and told of the rumors that your stepsisters had been circulating about you. Yes,” he added at the look on my face. “I know everything; your father and I worked it out between us on the journey from Augsburg. I did not believe the rumors, naturally, and went to Lady Rousseau’s manor to determine the truth. But she was away in Cologne, and I was forced to stay with other relatives. They had heard somehow that I wished to marry you and tried to convince me otherwise. I should not have listened to them, but I feared that their advice was justified; that my position at least required me to discover the truth before I saw you again, even if my heart disagreed.” Here Rupert dropped his gaze to our joined hands with an ashamed expression.

  “When Lady Rousseau returned, she was rightly furious at the accusations levelled
against you in her absence. She argued that whatever duty I owed to my family, my behavior toward you required equal if not greater loyalty in trusting to your innocence. She was right, of course, but I was still embarrassed when you entered the drawing room that day. I had not known you were coming, and the thought of how I had been convinced to doubt you, however minutely, shamed me into silence. My behavior at the ball was unpardonable. I was angry with you for being angry with me, and it was wrong to feel so.” He paused, and I took the opportunity his lapse offered.

  “My conduct was unpardonable as well. I was angry with you because you had not come directly to me to ask for an explanation, and then because I thought you believed the rumors to be true. I did not allow for the requirements of duty to your family, and I directed my anger with Fanny toward you, which was unjust. I am sorry for it, truly I am.”

  “You should not apologize, Eleanor. You cannot be blamed for feeling as you did.” Rupert was looking at me again, his expression weary but determined. “I know that I do not deserve to ask this of you after all that has happened. It would be perfectly within your rights to refuse me. But I must ask now, while I have the chance.” He paused again for what seemed an eternity. “Will you marry me?”

  In any other situation I would be ashamed to admit that I began to cry at this, after managing to control the impulse through so much upheaval. But it was the only action that seemed appropriate in that moment. Thankfully I did not sob; my tears merely flowed down my cheeks as I stared up into Rupert’s hopeful blue eyes and nodded. We had been standing close, but at my acceptance, Rupert gathered me into his arms and held me against him for a long moment before raising a hand and gently brushing the tears from my face. Then he lifted my chin slightly and kissed me.

  All thoughts of Papa’s tea flew from my mind and would have been quite forgotten had Fanny and Hettie not chosen that exact moment to return from their morning calls. They stopped dead in the doorway and Fanny’s parasol clattered to the floor. We broke apart. I smiled widely at my stepsisters’ shocked expressions, in spite of feeling my face flush with embarrassment at being seen with Rupert in full view of the front door (which I belatedly realized had stood open since Papa’s arrival). Rupert was less startled by their arrival and excused us on the pretext of ordering tea. We escaped down the hall before either of my stepsisters could say a word.

  My account is running long and I do not wish to burden you with the minutiae of how we spent the remainder of our day, so I shall summarize. Rupert went to Lady Rousseau’s to inform her of his return and dress for dinner before spending the evening with us. He and Papa told us the story of how the steam engine had become derailed and pulled several passenger cars from the line. Fortunately the cars involved had not been filled to capacity and the accident had occurred in a place where the incline was gentle rather than steep, but the cars had still gone some distance before coming to a rest. Papa was knocked unconscious and his arm was broken during the accident, and he had not awoken until the morning after in a hospital in Augsburg. A doctor had set Papa’s arm and told him that he had suffered a severe concussion and would not allow him to interrupt his rest by writing to us. Papa said that the confusion in the little town was such that he doubted a letter would have made it through even had he been able to attempt one.

  Meanwhile, Rupert had set out as soon as possible for Augsburg, determined to discover what had happened, and to return Papa to us if he proved to be alive. It had taken some time to discover where in the town Papa had been settled, and to convince the doctor to allow Rupert to take Papa back to Paris, but at last they were permitted to depart. They had come straight to Rue de Verre and arrived in time to see the solicitor leaving the house.

  When the gentlemen joined us in the drawing room after dinner, I could tell from Papa’s smile that Rupert had told him of our engagement. Step-mamma had returned to ignoring me, although her eyes flashed with anger as she watched Rupert join me by the pianoforte. I was too happy to pay heed to her, or to Fanny and Hettie as they sulked on the sofa and lamented the lack of entertainment. We spent the entire evening at the instrument, and when I saw Rupert to the door at the end of the night, he kissed me again before leaving.

  I expect him here again at any moment, and so I must close soon. This resolution is more than I was capable of hoping for a mere two days ago. I do not know what Papa said to Step-mamma while Rupert was proposing to me in the hall, but he must have been very firm, because her behavior toward me has been at least proper, if not pleasant. Soon it will not matter, for I shall be with Rupert in Vienna and never again required to endure her presence.

  My happiness is made all the more complete by Papa’s plan to return to England in time for your own wedding. My union with Rupert will be a rather complex affair, as his position with the Imperial Family requires an official state wedding to be held. He is returning to Vienna next week to inform his uncle of our engagement and to begin the preparations. Meanwhile, we shall be in London within the fortnight and will remain there until after you are wed. We shall spend a few weeks in Kent so that Papa may see to his estate business and the fall harvest. Then we will return to Vienna by the end of October for my own wedding. Lady Warner visited this morning to offer her congratulations and insisted that we stay with her before the wedding. She has asked me to extend the invitation to you as well.

  I do so hope that you will be able to come, and that you will not object to bringing Uncle Matthew with you. Does the Duke intend to take you to Scotland directly after the wedding, or will you return to Kent for a time? Perhaps you could convince him to do the tour of the Continent for your wedding journey; then you might have a reason to be in Vienna in the autumn.

  Of course you must come and stay with us whenever you wish it, and I hope to be admitted to a view of Castle Stirling in the near future. Please write soon and tell me which material you have chosen for your wedding gown. If you are quick, your response should arrive before we leave for London.

  Love,

  Eleanor

  P.S. Oh, I quite forgot! I have finally solved the mystery of your yellow gown. It turns out that Hettie was the one to place the order, not Step-mamma. She saw the deep green satin I had chosen for you and made the modiste replace it with the yellow damask you received instead. I hope you were truthful when you said you do not mind it, and I can only apologize over and over for not ensuring that the gown was completed properly. If you wish, I will order the original gown to be made up at once as a wedding gift.

  28 August, 1845

  18 Charleston Street, London

  Dear Eleanor,

  I shared your notion of happiness causing one’s demise with William and had to endure five minutes of explanation as to why such a thing is scientifically impossible, before I could inform him that you were in jest. Even so, I happen to understand the sentiment quite well; my own happiness is at least equal to yours, although I am biased toward thinking mine is greater.

  Papa and I are relieved to hear that Uncle Charles has returned home and that he was not more grievously injured in the railway accident. As for Aunt Sylvia’s behavior, he could only shake his head in wonder. I believe he intends to apologize profusely for encouraging her to attend the educational lecture at which she met Uncle Charles. For my part, I am quite put out with her, and I admire the courage you showed while enduring her abuse and insults. You are quite right to look forward to the day when you will no longer be required to live in the same house as her.

  I am so pleased that you shall soon be in London again! Lord and Lady Graham have very kindly extended their invitation to remain with them until after the wedding. I suspect Lady Graham and Lady Easton wish to provide their assistance with the arrangements. I welcome the help, for though I am not without a sense of fashion, their abilities eclipse my own in no small degree. We have not yet begun to discuss my wedding gown, but I am certain they will not allow me to enter the church without being dressed in the latest the local modiste has to offer. It i
s your gown that I find more interesting, for you shall need a gown worthy of the Imperial Court for an event as formal as a state wedding. How grand it shall be!

  William has agreed to take us to the Continent in time for your wedding, but first he wishes to return to Scotland for a time. His presence is needed to supervise the start of repairs required on the Hamilton estate, as well as for dividing up the surrounding property. I believe it is for the best; it will do the villagers good to have some new families arrive and establish their homes nearby. William does not intend to sell the land immediately around the village, so he will continue as its patron. This too is a good thing, in my mind, for he will be able to continuing repairing his relationship with the villagers. Perhaps in time, and with the help of Mr. Scott and Mr. Adamson, even the little lady from the tea shop may learn to like William again.

  As to my gown, you may have the green one made up if you wish, but I find I am becoming rather partial to the yellow one. This may or may not be due to William’s decided preference for it over most of my other gowns. He says it is his favorite because it was the one I was wearing when he saw me for the first time after I left Scotland. However, I happen to know that he is fond of green as well, so the new gown will likely meet with his full approval. If you would please have it sent to Lady Graham’s townhouse in London, I would be most grateful. It will be some time before I am at home in Kent again.

  And speaking of home, I have had the most interesting letter from Agnes Duncan. Apparently Gilbert Cosgrove and Eliza Hollingdon are engaged at last! Agnes says that Gilbert returned from London in time for an informal dance given by the Bartletts and that by the end of the night he had proposed to Eliza, and she had accepted. I hope she will not regret her choice, for Agnes described Gilbert’s behavior as being rather haughty and disdainful through the whole evening, and I cannot help wondering if he has only proposed to Eliza to prove that he is capable of attaching a pretty woman. Eliza Hollingdon is a sweet girl, if a bit foolish, and I would not wish her to be harmed by anything I have inadvertently done. Perhaps some of her sweetness will in time help Gilbert to acquire more polished manners. Time alone will show whether or not they can be happy together, but I shall hope for the best.