Ardently |h.s|

seven

With a small laugh, she pats my cheek gently. "We shall see you for dinner." she reminds me, before disappearing up the stairs to her quarters. I turn to Beth, letting out a sigh before helping her collect my new clothes and jewels to bring up to my room.

"I did quite like that blue dress. The one with the pretty beading." Beth comments as we walk up the stairs. I nod slightly, "That one was nice. It looked pretty but the corset was extremely tight." I remark.

We walk into the room, setting the boxes down by the door. "What I don't understand is how all these girls are able to dance and eat and converse with these corsets tied so tightly. It was painful watching them stuff you into that one you're in." Beth comments, shaking her head.

"I don't understand how they could breathe at all. Speaking of, mind loosening mine up for me?" I ask. Usually I would just do it myself but the modiste is a master at making knots apparently.

With a nod she quickly helps me out of my dress and gets to work untying the corset. "Bloody hell, Char! I might just need to cut you out of this thing." she exclaims from behind me, yanking at the knots. After what feels like hours of tugging, the corset is finally loose and I can feel my lungs expanding ever so slightly more.

I get back into my dress and we both go to plop down on the bed. I stare up at the ornate ceiling, just as I had last night. It felt strange sleeping in a foriegn bed. It also didn't help that Lord Styles continues to haunt my dreams. I'm going to need Mary to make me her little sleeping remedy tonight so I can get some rest.

"Beth, you'd tell me if I become all prissy and stuck up as Lord Styles right?" I break the silence, still staring up at the ceiling.

She snorts, "You would never become like Lord Styles. I'm convinced that man is a demon."

"I wouldn't be surprised if his eyes went black as he blasts us. If only he could see me now, a servant living amongst her employers. I think he would faint in anger." I tease and we both laugh at the expense of Harry. "I almost feel sorry for the poor girl he most assuredly took advantage of last night." I continue through a fit of giggles.

Once we calm down, we decide to go down to the kitchen. It's not too crowded since not much is going on, but there is a certain brown haired fellow pestering Mary. She looks as though she's going to burst.

"Brother, leave the poor woman to her work. Don't you bother her enough?" I scold, sitting down at the table with Beth.

Liam turns with a smile, walking over to the table to sit down, "There you both are. How was shopping?" he asks, holding an apple between his hands. My eyes roll at his question and Beth stifles a laugh.

"Your mother has the kindest heart of any woman I've known. However, I could do without the shopping. And I looked terribly silly in those dresses." I sigh, tracing my fingers along the grain of the wooden table.

"Oh hush, Char. You looked incredibly beautiful. We will have suitors lining the streets to bring you gifts and ask to court you." Beth smiles.

Liam's gaze catches mine. It's full of concern and sadness, knowing that the last thing I would want is to be lavished with gifts by strange men who are only interested in one of two things, my beauty or my body. Knowing the Viscountess and her good heart, she'll urge me to court with the man with the best title, knowing that's where the money lies.

There is no doubt in anyone's mind that I am to be engaged by the end of the season, the only question is to who?

"Thank you Bethie. Liam shall get to see soon since I will be attending my first ball in two weeks. The first of December." I inform them, hoping my nerves are not showing.

Liam nods quickly, "I will be sure to keep a watchful eye and make sure no man takes any liberties with you." he assures me, which makes me feel much better. I'm sure the Viscountess will be watching me like a hawk as well.

"Thank you, brother. I'm sure it'll provide a much needed excuse to avoid finding a wife. If anything you and I shall dance the night away. Who cares if we are to be considered cousins." I smile, glancing over as Beth gets up to start helping Mary with dinner.

He chuckles, nodding, "We could very well do that. I would quite enjoy it." he agrees. "Beth, maybe I should start calling you sister as well, maybe mother would let you join in on the festivities as well." he teases.

"Maybe you should call me sister. I slave away all day in this kitchen and all I get is a bunch of chatterboxes talking my ear off." Mary complains as she prepares our meal. Liam and I exchange a look, holding in our laughs as hard as we can.

Later that night, I sit at my new vanity, watching myself in the mirror as Sarah, my new personal maid, brushes out my hair. It was quite strange bathing in a proper tub. Even weirder having someone bathe me. I never realized how truly dirty I was until my skin was scrubbed raw.

The new nightgowns are soft and comfortable, but still, I'd be fine sleeping in my old clothes. The modiste added in a silk dressing gown, which feels soothing against my aching skin.

As I look in the mirror, I don't recognize myself. It's been only a day and yet this life has already taken so much of my identity. It'll only get worse when I'm the imposter out on the dance floor. And then when I'm married. By the time I become a mother, I'm not sure I'll even know who I am anymore.

"All done, ma'am." Sarah says, putting the brush down.

"Charlotte. Just call me Charlotte please. No ma'am or miss. I'm not titled."

Surely my mother didn't want this for me. Maybe the Viscountess misunderstood her desires. Only, they spent every day together for years. They knew each other down to their cores. I doubt there were any misunderstandings.

Sarah nods, "Okay, Charlotte." She smiles at me through the mirror. I offer a smile back before standing up. I get into bed, pulling the covers up as Sarah puts out the flame from the candle. Once she leaves the room, I stare up into the dark.

"Mummy, what do I do?" I whisper, feeling tears come to my eyes.

December first is going to be horrible, I could just feel it in my bones. No amount of refinement can mold me into the perfect woman. The perfect wife. I don't want to be a perfect anything. I want to be Charlotte Jane Pembroke. I want to be my own person, not some man's stupid little wife.

Life felt so promising when I only had to worry about my little world in the kitchen. I wouldn't have much, but I would be free to do what I want. I had options. If I wanted to be a night walking prostitute, I could have done that. If I wanted to be a virtuous woman for the rest of my life, that choice was mine too. If I wanted to marry and start a family, I could. Now all my options have been ripped from my grasp.

Now I do not get to choose. I cannot hide in the shadows at balls and learn the secrets of the ton. I am limited in everything I do, all because I am to be presented to society. Now I must be proper and poised.

I hope tonight I dream of my freedoms. Of what my life could have been. For now, my dreams are the only place I am truly free. Unless there is some way for those to be stolen away from me too.

And as I close my eyes, I am proven to be correct. My dreams can be stolen from me. Lord Styles has proven to have a strong grip on those the past few weeks. So I open my eyes again, staring up at the ceiling as I wonder, Who am I?