Set in the Victorian Era) Lily Evans is the picture of feminine perfection. Born and raised in the strict household of downtown Paris, the heiress is always the centre of gossip. When chaos strikes and Miss Evans is ripped from her posh life and forced to live with her childhood friend whom she hasn't talked to in years, and her step-brother in the middle class of London, how will she survive?
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
This was my mantra the entire carriage ride from the train station in Surrey to London. The carriage was ill-made, and the ride extremely bumpy. Not that I had the mind to complain; t'wasn't my place to speak out so.
"Almost there, Miss," Mistress Plume, my governess, said from the seat next to me. Her pudgy hand was waving a fluttering fan that wasn't making a difference on the perspiration sliding down her face.
Suddenly, the carriage lurched to a halt, and the footman came over to unlatch the door. He stepped aside, bowing, as my governess made the descent down the steps.
Taking a deep breath, I winced as I felt the metal clasps of the corset cut into my skin, so tightly it was tied. Nonetheless, I followed obediently, slipping the Look onto my face—eyes hooded and looking straight ahead, mouth in a firm line, betraying no emotion, and chin at a ninety-degree angle.
The air immediately cooled as I stepped outside the confined space. I took in a deep breath of the temperate air and took in my surroundings. Standing in front of me was a modest house of two stories and a wide front porch with several steps leading up to a nicely polished glass and wood front door. Hesitantly, I stepped forward and rapped on the brass door-knocker.
I looked down and smoothed out the wrinkles in my maroon travelling dress as I heard the sound of heels walking on wooden floors grow louder. I looked up, the Look still in place, and waited for the door to open.
When it did, a tall, austere woman with harsh black hair pulled back into chiffon on the nape of her neck and her counter part—a petite serving maid with a light pink cap barely containing her strawberry blonde curls that was peeking behind the taller woman's skirts, greeted me.
The older woman merely nodded her head as the maid smiled broadly and stepped aside so I could pass. I mumbled my thanks and walked inside, the swishing of my dress and shoes echoed throughout the empty drawing room. It, like the outside of the house, was moderately furnished. The highlight, however, was the magnificent piano resting in the corner. It reflected the light coming from the large bay window behind it on its gleaming surface.
I walked over to it and ran my hands over its top. My fingers itched to touch its ivory keys, yet I restrained myself. Once again, t'was not my place to mess.
"Lily? Lily Evans?" A musical voice drifted towards me, and I turned around slowly to greet it, whoever it was.
I smiled gently as I saw my old friend Lunette Faber greet me. I curtsied softly. "Good afternoon, Lunette."
"Oh, posh! There's no need for any of that!" Lunette's voice had a hard English accent softened by a country slur of her words. "This is your house as much as it is mine! Now, I would like to introduce you to my brother, but I'm afraid he's gone gallivanting around the woods again with that friend of his. But, don't worry! We'll be sure to track him down before dinner!" During this speech, Lune had threaded her arm through mine and started leading me through the house.
I vaguely saw several small, yet expensive, items strewn across the house. Eventually, I was led up the grand staircase and into a pale pink and white room. Lunette took a breath from which ever topic she was exhausting at the moment to say, "This will be your room. Feel free to hang your clothes up here," she gestured to the mahogany wardrobe, "and here," pointing to the bureau and chest of drawers.
"I'll let you settle down and come get you for dinner. Just a tip, but it will be formal." Lune smiled at me before walking out the door and closing it quietly.
I let out a huge sigh and flopped down onto my bed. Its soft bedding allowed me to sink down several inches before bouncing up. I stayed here for several moments before realizing one very important factor about tonight's dinner: there would be men present.
Jumping up quickly, I rang for my maid and started tearing furiously through the closet that was already fixed with my clothing. A frantic knocking sounded at the door and I called out to come in.
An anxious maid curtsied at me and stammered her greetings. "There's no time for that nonsense. We have work to do. Do you know how formal Lun—I mean Miss Faber said the dinner would be?" I snapped as half of my body was plunged into the folds of fabric of my two favourite dresses.
"Well m-m'am the masters will be there an-and the cook is preparing a th-three course meal so I assume, I-I mean if it isn't to b-bold of me to suggest, that it is very formal."
"Hmm…" I thought, debating over the two dresses. Finally, I held them up. Which do you like better?" I asked the maid giving her a choice between an ivory number or a solid black gown with green accents.
"The ivory, if it isn't too bold of me to say." She gave me a tentative smile that I returned as I put the ivory gown on the bed and deposited the other on the floor, kicking it to the corner.
"Now," I said, "let us get to work! Please tell me you know how to tie a corset?"
(Three hours, several curses, a broken mirror, and many thrown objects later…)
"Why!" The maid exclaimed, tucking a piece of her hair that had come undone from her cap behind her ear. "Miss, you look positively beautiful!"
I admired myself in my reflection. I was used to looking stunning in dresses that cost about as much as the house I was standing in, but for some reason, this one was especially wonderful. For the first time in my life, I was extremely anxious to see what the others thought.
It was sleeveless and a pure ivory. The bodice was tight until it came to my waist where it ended elaborate gold embroidering. Then, folds of fabric unfurled from stitching where it pooled past my feet and even on the back where it disintegrated into a transparent train. More gold bordering surrounded the bottom of the dress and in a hoop branching out from the top of the waist to surround the entire skirt. A single pleat graced the front of the dress.
My auburn red hair was twisted into a braided bun that was held in place with small, bright pins and several distinct curls surrounding my face. An elegant necklace embedded with emeralds and diamonds wrapped around my thin neck twice before clasping. Around my pale shoulders was a barely visible shawl.
I was ready.
I breathed in deeply and exited the room. I paused, almost expecting something to jump out at me. Of course, nothing did, and I continued down the grand staircase.
As I did, I a loud male voice drifted up to my hearing level. "Where the hell is she? She's fifteen minutes late to dinner. Surely, dear sister, you don't expect me to wait for my food for a woman that I don't even know! For Christ's sake I sure hope not!"
I walked further down the stairs until I was in the dining room doorway. However, only one of the two men standing in the door way noticed me. He was stunningly handsome, yet rugged at the same time. His piercing grey eyes swept me up and down, and, noticing this, I fluttered my eyelashes at him and tilted my head to the side, causing the few strands of hair that were hanging down to drift over my bare shoulders, causing a violent contrast. I gave him a small, seductive smile that was my legendary trade mark—besides the classic one eyebrow raise.
"Well," my admirer said loudly, cutting off his companion mid-sentence. "Would this happen to be the young lady we were so graciously waiting for?" His friend spun around and his bespectacled hazel eyes widened.
"Please forgive me, Madame." This one was equally as cute, but in a different way. He had the air of elegance—in everything but his ways with women, apparently—that his friend had abound. This should be interesting.
"I hope I'm not late." I smiled again, drawing my shawl tighter around me, making my bust line appear larger—a trick I had learned from my mother. God rest her soul.
"Not at all." The grey-eyed charmer stepped forward, noticing my action. "Sirius Black, at your service." I curtsied politely and offered him my hand, which he accepted graciously and kissed warmly, holding on a moment longer than was probably necessary.
Next, his companion stepped forward and introduced himself. "James Potter," he said, bowing and also kissing my hand, but not nearly as invitingly.
"Ah!" I cried in recognition, "Lune's brother!"
He grinned. "Step-brother, unfortunately."
I smiled back. "Well, either way, I remember you when I was but a girl dancing around with Lunette in the pastures out here but many years ago." I paused, grinning mischievously, "I also remember, dear Sir, that on one fateful day, out by that very pond that I glance upon so fondly from my bedroom window, you accused me of—what was it?—ah, yes, being too feminine, and pushed me in." I had started to walk around him as I spoke, enjoying as his face contorted in memory.
"W-well, I-I…" He stammered and blushed and trailed off but luckily was saved from answering when the kitchen maid rang the bell signalling dinner was ready.
After dinner, all of us, minus the governesses who preferred to be left out of such activities, gathered around the piano, which I had asked Lune before if she would let me play it. She of course, allowed me to and I was now getting to sit on the plush leather seat and place my long, pale fingers on the ivory keys. "Any requests?" I asked.
Mr. Black leaned against the side of the piano. "Can't say I'm familiar in the world of music, Miss," He said, drumming his fingers against the dark furnish. "Please, play your favourite." I complied and pressed the opening keys of Fur Elise, one of the most elegant things I have ever heard in my life.
Lune squealed. "I absolutely adore this song!" She started to twirl around, her arms spread out and the skirt of her dress fanning out and swishing behind her. She laughed and pulled James into the dance with her. Somehow, he calmed her down into a decent waltz as I picked up a new, slower melody. When it came to an end, the dancing couple parted and bowed to each other.
Then, just as I was about to begin another song, Sirius grasped my forearm and hoisted me up, successfully cutting me off mid-chord. "I beg your pardon!" I protested feebly as he led me into a slow song to music apparently only he could hear. I struggled in his arms, attempting to get away, but he only drew me closer.
"Shh," He hushed into my ear, "stop fighting it. You know you want it." He taunted me. I groaned, but nonetheless continued with the rhythm of his movements. He spun me around first one way, caught me, and then spun me the other way to land in a graceful dip.
I laughed and he smiled showing off rows of perfect teeth, something I hadn't seen in a while. He let me go and I gave him a deep curtsey, almost allowing the hems of my skirt to reach the floor. I stood back up to a thunderous applause. In perfect Lily form, I blushed and curtsied before turning around and curtseying again to my partner, who had an odd look in his eyes. I decided to ignore it and continue enjoying my evening.
A different approach to the cliché story, is it not? Tell me what you think in a review!