Brass Skies vol 2 (Draft)

A Little Charity for the Future Queen part 2

"You look very pretty as a blonde, but there is just something about it that doesn't quite fit you. I think this color suits you much better."

Charity reached up and pulled a lock of her hair into view, rubbing it between her thumb and index finger. She had grown her hair out and dyed it a rich, warm mahogany. When she first boarded the carriage, except for her bangs, her hair had fallen past her shoulders in flowing curls held back from her face by a pair of sharp hair pins. The heat and humidity had taken their toll now and most of it was rather limp, though the odd strand here and there decided to frizz uncontrollably instead.

She snorted slightly as she realized that this color brought out the light freckles on her arms and face that usually were faint enough to blend in. It also emphasized the paleness of her skin that was as prone to burning as it was to tan. In fact, she realized that her arm was starting to burn.

"Just wa I need," she muttered under her breath. "I'll be arrivin' lookin' half like ah ghost, and half like ah lobster."

"Your accent's making an appearance again," George noted in a tone that was partly amused and partly warning.

Cursing, Charity let go of her hair and pulled herself together. She tugged at her skirt and then folded her arms into her lap where the shade would hopefully keep her arm from burning any further.

The king's son watched her fidgeting for a few seconds before deciding to attempt to distract her. "So if I may ask, what exactly is your natural hair color anyways?"

Charity looked up, her green eyes both startled and thoughtful. She surprised both George and herself with a wry smile and a chuckle. "You know, I've been in the habit of changing it for so long I don't even remember anymore. I guess I should let it grow out a few weeks without dyeing it so I can find out!"

***

When Charity and George arrived at the estate, the coach ambled up a long, curved driveway and stopped in front of the largest house that Charity had ever seen. The house was larger than even many warehouses, standing at least three stories tall—four if you included the obvious attic. Charity realized the driveway was actually two separate lanes connected with a half-moon shaped connector, and the house was easily as wide as the space between the two lanes. Across the entire middle third of the house was a two story porch with large fluted columns with a section of wide steps leading down to the driveway.

A venerable army of people were waiting to greet the coach as it came to a stop in front of the steps. George exited the carriage first and immediately went over to a small line of people; shaking hands with the men and hugging and kissing the cheeks of the women.

A pleasant, balding man in a butler's outfit helped Charity down from the carriage before helping the driver unload the luggage. She thanked him, and offered a pleasant smile.

George waved Charity over and began making introductions. "Charity, this is Lord Melbourne and his wife. They are trusted friends of mine, and the owners of this marvelous estate."

Charity curtsied and exchanged pleasantries with them.

George then turned toward a short, petite teenager with a round face and brownish hair. "This is my cousin, Victoria. Victoria, this is Charity, the remarkable young woman I was telling you about who I hired to be your personal maid, woman-in-waiting, and whatever else you need."

"I have heard good things about you, Charity," Victoria smiled. "I am quite sure we will get along quite pleasantly."

***