Hey there, loves! Glad to be back :] So I'm writing this with one of my friends, so I can make no promises about updates. This is set in the same time period as Benicity, and the people are Ben's family. Yeah, sure, why not? Well I am writing this with Angela [no more information than that!] And we will be alternating chapters. Apparently she is bad at starting stories, and I'm relatively good at doing that, so I'll be doing the odd chapters and she'll being the even. So this chapter, Bloom, is going to be a TotallyNonchalantFBI chapter. Enjoy, loves! And please, please review! Nothing will make me happier [ well, maybe a puppy…but still, you can't send me a puppy, now can you? So please, pretty please with sugar on top, please REVIEW!]
Margaret Davidson was sixteen years old and in full bloom. She had grown to be about five and a half feet, with curly blond hair and big brown eyes that could make you melt. She was of average size, with small feet and a small waist. She had rosy pink lips and a smile that lit up the room. Though she dressed well, she had no patience for fashion. She enjoyed the arts, singing and dancing, and reading whatever books she could get her hands on.
But if you asked her father about her, all he would say was that it was damn near time for her to get married. But his daughter paid him no heed.
All dinner conversations went about the same way.
"Margaret" father would ask, putting down his silverware. "Have you given any thought to who you shall marry?"
"Father!" Margaret would protest. "I'm not even courting! However, I've almost finished my original song! It's coming along quite swimming, actually…"
After that, Father would interrupt her and talk about his endeavors of the day, and Margaret would finish her meal in silence.
The next morning was Saturday, which was the formal baking day of the week.
"Oh no!" Mother put her hands on her hips and frowned.
" Whatever is wrong, mother?" Margaret asked.
"We're all out of flour, and on baking day of all days! Do me a favor, and run down to the shop, and pick up a pound of flour." Mother placed a coin in Margaret's hand. "Now go, go, before the ovens get too hot!"
Margaret turned to go, but her mother interrupted. "Wait! Do take your sister with you, I don't want you in town alone!"
"Mother!" Margaret protested.
"No whining!" Mother snapped.
"May I please take Charlotte?" Margaret asked. "I'll have company, and she's a bit more fun to be with…"
"Don't say that about your sister!" Mother snapped. "Now if you promise to be nicer to your sister, you may go into town with Charlotte."
Smiling, Margaret uttered a quick "Thank you!" and ran off.
"Wait! Don't forget your hat!" Mother shouted. "Never mind…"
Margaret ran a few houses down, to a green painted house with white trim. It was not an impressive home, but it housed her best friend. Margaret rapped on the door quickly and bounced up and down.
Charlotte answered the door. "Oh good! I was just about to go into town!"
Charlotte had long blond hair that barely dusted her ribcage. It was golden blond, with hints of red. It flowed in soft waves, and curled at the ends. She had bright green eyes that always seemed to have a hint of mischief in them, and they were framed with dark lashes. She had bright pink lips, and perfect white teeth. She was a little taller than Margaret, but not by much. That height did not help her grace, however, for she was far less graceful and tended to stumble often. She didn't mind though, for while it was frowned upon by other girls, so were most of the other things she did: such as running and refusing to ride horses sidesaddle.
The two girls had been inseparable since birth, and their free spirits made them a perfect match. Charlotte hopped down the steps, two at a time, and met Margaret at the bottom.
"What do you have to get from town?" Margaret asked.
"A beau." Charlotte smiled. "I'm sixteen! It's time."
"Don't tell me you're ready to get married too! What is happening to the world?" Margaret wailed.
"Hold up, hold up. I said a beau, not a fiancé." Charlotte smirked.
"I knew there was a reason why we were friends." Margaret laughed.
"Now where are you going?" Charlotte asked.
"The Merchant's shop. I need a pound of flour."
The two girls walked down the street and up the stairs to the merchants shop. When they pushed open the door, a little bell rang, and a light went off in Margaret's head. Standing there, stacking dishes, was a handsome young man.
"Who's he?" Margaret whispered, nudging her friend.
"Oh, has someone caught your eye?" Charlotte laughed. "Oh him? Alexander Hawthorne. He's the apprentice.
Margaret bit her lip and tilted her head, having her curls spilling onto her shoulder. Alexander had deep brown hair, almost black, but not quite. The sun had probably lightened it. He had big blue eyes, which really popped against his deeply tanned skin. While manual labor had given him tan skin, it had also given him impressive muscles. While Margaret could only seem his extraordinary arm muscles, she suspected strong abs as well. Her heart seemed to plunge into her stomach.
"Go talk to him!" Charlotte pushed her forward.
Margaret spluttered a while, but finally approached him.
"Do you need help finding something?" Alexander looked at her, and Margaret was sure her knees were turning to pudding. He had such pretty eyes…
"Uh, uh…" Margaret stood there, mouth open, while mentally cursing herself.
Charlotte saved her. "She'd like to know if you have any flour."
Alexander didn't stop looking at Margaret. "Here, let me get some for you."
He walked behind the counter, and filled a bag with flour. Margaret paid him, but he didn't go away. "I've just become an apprentice here, but I think I would have remembered you. You knew here?" he asked Margaret.
"Um, no. I just haven't, uh, come here for a while." Margaret spluttered.
"Well you should come back tomorrow." He smiled. "May I at least have your name?"
"Margaret." She responded, smiling. "Margaret Davidson."
He flicked his hat and smiled. "Pleasure to meet you, Miss Davidson."
The next day, Margaret was determined to go back. First thing in the morning, she tore down the stairs. She entered the kitchen, rummaging through the spices in order to find one that needed replacing! To no avail, alas.
Eventually, she found some ginger that was almost empty, and could need replacing. So she dumped it out the window.
"Mother!" she yelled. "We have no ginger, I shall go buy some!"
"Good heavens child!" Mother murmured, walking in. "No need to shout. 'Tis unladylike. Besides, I am right here. I do believe I got some ginger last week! Wherever has it gone?"
"No idea." Margaret said. "Now I must be off!"
Margaret skipped out the door and over to her best friend's house. While she could not wait Alexander, she needed Charlotte in case she got herself into an awkward situation!
Charlotte, like any close friend, seemed to already know her plan and was walking out of her house when Margaret came up.
"Going to flirt?" Charlotte smiled.
"Aye!" Margaret smiled. "Charlotte, I think he might like me!"
"Oh Margaret!" Charlotte laughed. "I was standing there, watching the both of you. He's practically smitten!"
Margaret, in eagerness to reach the shop, took Charlotte's hand and sprinted off with her. The two girls stopped at the doorway. Charlotte fixed Margaret's hair, for it had come a bit undone during the sprinting, and pinched her cheeks for some color.
"Do I look okay?" Margaret asked.
"You look beautiful!" Charlotte smiled. "Now go win him over!"
As soon as Margaret opened the door, Alexander was there. "You're back!"
"Aye!" Margaret smiled. "We, er, ran out of ginger."
"You're cute." Alexander smiled, knowing that they obviously did not run out of ginger.
The two went into the back storeroom, for business was especially slow today, and just talked. About friends, family, childhood, nearly everything! Charlotte had long head home, and Margaret didn't seem to realize that she should too. The sun was setting, but she didn't even notice!
"…yes!" Margaret exclaimed, causing Alexander to laugh. "Of all people, my sister, Mary, my sister thought she was having a surprise party! She opened the door and yelled 'oh you shouldn't have!'. And there was only Mother, sitting in her chair knitting, with the most peculiar look on her face! And I was on the couch, practically ready to pop my corset from laughing to hard! It was as if she did not expect me to play such tricks on her! And after all these years!
After Alexander calmed down from the laughter, he looked out the storeroom window. "Oh, Lord. You came in here about noon, did you not?"
"Yes, a little before actually." Margaret responded.
"Well the sun is setting!" Alexander exclaimed. "Margaret, you've been here for about seven hours!"
"Oh my God!" Margaret exclaimed, leaping up. "Oh, my parents are going to be so mad! They'll kill me!"
"Here, you shouldn't be walking home in the dark. I'll escort you. Where do you live?" Alexander said, rather calmly for the situation.
"117 Baker Street." Margaret sighed. "They're going to be so mad…"
"Just tell them you were talking, and lost track of time." Alexander mentioned.
"Who loses track of time for seven hours?" Margaret scowled.
"You're being too hard on yourself." Alexander offered his arm and the two headed home.
Alexander walked her home. Margaret's heart was fluttering due to any physical contact with him, but her brain was spinning, and that occupied her attention.
Eventually, they reached the door. Alexander paused for a moment and bit his lip. "I know, we haven't known each other for a long time, but I like you Margaret. And this may seem….forward. Hell, it is forward. But may I…may I kiss you?"
Every thought drained out of Margaret's head. Did he just say what she thought he said? Yes, she answered herself. He did! He liked her, he wanted to kiss her! Yes, she wanted him to kiss her. Without saying anything, or waiting for him to say anything else, Margaret leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. Alexander grabbed her face and kissed her back. Eventually, the two broke apart.
"You best get inside, your parents are worried enough as it is." Alexander smiled, but still cradled her face in his hands.
Margaret smiled, pecked his lips again, muttered a goodnight, and went inside.
"Well Margaret." As soon as Margaret entered the door, she faced her family, sitting in the parlor, adjacent to the door. Her mother spoke first. "We've been waiting for quite some time. We have many questions, but one very important one first. Where is the ginger?"
Margaret shrunk back. "I forgot it."
"Okay then," her father continued. "Another question then. Why did it take you seven and a half hours to run a simple errand, and then fail to even complete that errand. What on earth were you doing? We were worried sick!"
"I'm sorry Father!" Margaret said, and took a step towards him. "I was talking with a…with a friend. I just lost track of time!"
"Margaret, you need to be more mindful! Who knows what trouble you could have gotten yourself into? And walking home in the dark? Egad!" Mother said, fanning herself.
"I'm so sorry Mother! It won't happen again!" Margaret promised, clasping her hands together.
"Good." Mother stated, putting her fan down and picking up her stitching, signaling that the conversation was now over. "We have a surprise for you. Go upstairs and wash your face. Fix your hair. And change into your best gown!"
"Mother, my best gown? Whatever for? 'Tis nighttime!" Margaret questioned.
"If we told you what for, it would not be a surprise, now would it?" Mother said, voice still stern, but a smile playing at her lips.
Margaret bowed her head and went to do what she was told. Upstairs at her bedside, there was a little flower. A rose, to be more specific. She had been trying for what felt like forever to convince it to bloom. Looking over at it, she noticed that this morning, for the first time in weeks, it had spread it's petals to receive the sun's healthy rays. But then the strangest thing happened. Suddenly, almost as soon as she looked at it, the petals closed up. The sun had set a while ago, and it seemed to be strangest thing.
Paying it no more heed, Margaret went to change into her gown. It was the finest silk, imported from Paris! It was deep champagne, and its golden accents brought out the gold flakes in her eyes. The stomacher had twisted ribbons and pearls of red, champagne, and golden hues mixed throughout it. The champagne fabric gathered at her hips, and revealed a shining gold petticoat. Red lace trimmed the side and the sleeves. The neckline dipped deep into her bust, but covered most with lace. To draw attention further up, Margaret put on her pearl choker, which was her favorite necklace of them all. She pulled her curls out of their bun, and let them frame her heart-shaped face. She took off her mobcap and replaced it with a golden pinner. She put in her little pearl earrings, for this appeared to be a special occasion. She wore the same shoes that she had during the day, for they were hidden anyway, and the fancy ones pinched her toes ever so uncomfortably.
Pleased with her appearance, Margaret turned on the slight heel of her shoes and walked outside her room, blowing out the candle on the dresser. She navigated the hallway and stairs by feel, and did not trip. She walked through the living room, which had a roaring fire in the fireplace, and the kitchen which had the warm smell of cinnamon bread in the over. She entered the parlor again, to behold a strange sight.
There was a man. He was tall and skinny, he would look malnourished except for his large beer belly. He had a powdered wig that reached a good six inches above his head, and fell in tight powdered curls. His clothes were fancy and heavily embroidered, in hues of pinks, blues, and greens. It looked like the eggs she used to dye for Easter! His breeches were tight at the ends, showing the lumps in his socks, but puffy throughout, making his skinny ankles look even smaller.
"Mother, Father." Margaret said slowly, eyebrows raised, concern flooding her voice. "What exactly is this surprise?"
VVVVVVVV Review! Review! VVVVVVVV