Flames of Revenge

A Leisurely Stroll

March 6th 1872

GENEVIEVE CHAPWORTH

Seven days before the fire.

“Ow!” I cried as my maid, Rose, pulled on my hair with the curling tongs, steam rising from my blond hair as she delicately curled it into the elaborate style that all the girls my age wore. Rose was very skilled at it, she'd been doing my hair ever since I was young, but she wasn't very gentle about it.

My mother was standing by watching as Rose got me ready for the day. After she had finished with my hair, she would lace me into my corset and then help me into my gown and jewellery. Finally, she would do my make-up. The whole process took up my entire morning much to my chagrin, and my mother was there to make sure that Rose got it right, much to my annoyance also.

She had arranged for me to meet a new suitor today and she was much more excited and anxious than I was, as if this one would be somewhat more important the rest she tried to set me up with. They were all arrogant, spoiled and sheltered. Why would this one be any different?

Sometimes I wondered why I tried so hard. I wondered why I kept up this charade, this public appearance of the perfect daughter, the society darling. In all honesty, I couldn't care less what people thought of me. Gossip and scandal I could handle, and sometimes I felt like it would better living like my aunt Elizabeth, shunned by society but living with love.

I sighed inwardly. I'm beginning to sound like Nicholas. He always was the idealistic one, the dreamer.

So why did I do it then? Why did I accompany my mother to her parties, attend balls and meet suitors? I think that there was a part of me that did it for my family's sake, I didn't think that my mother could take the scandal. But some things are more important than other people's opinions.

I smiled as I thought. There was definitely something more important than that. A light at the end of the tunnel, maybe.

My mother mistook my smile for enthusiasm. “Genevieve my dear,” she began.”I do think that you'll like this one. He's so handsome, and very charming. And his family is very rich.”

Of course, because those are the attributes that I should look for. My mother really is an idiot. I want to find someone who is honest, I don't care for charm. I want someone who is kind, not swimming in money. And I want someone courageous, and not in the way of false bravado, real courage.

It took me a moment to realise exactly who I'd just described.

“And you two would be such a perfect match,” my mother went on. “Both from very good families. Your father's company has dealings with his family, didn't you know?” On and on she went, I was barely listening.

At that moment, Rose gave the laces on the back of my corset a decided yank that took the breath from my lungs. I struggled to breathe, gasping for a few seconds as I regained my composure.

My mother frowned at me.”Honestly, Genevieve. One would think that you would have become accustomed to that by now. A little pain is good for a girl.” She went back to droning on about who I was meeting today, and I went back to barely paying attention

I stared into the mirror that stood in front of me, allowing me to see the slim waist that my corset had created and the elaborate curls that my hair had been forced into. It took all my restraint not to simply run my fingers through my hair and shake every single curl loose, just to infuriate Rose and my mother.

Sometimes when I looked into the mirror I wondered what other people saw. What they thought when they looked at me. Did they see nothing but another girl, compliant and vain? Stupid and shallow like my mother? Probably.