Chapter 10: Thoughts
"Hey...! Ow!" Buffy complained as the maid was tightening her corset. "I don't see why we have to wear these things. Aren't they responsible for ribs breaking and all that stuff? Ow!"
"Now Miss Bianca, corsets are an essential part to a woman's wardrobe. A slim woman is an attractive woman," the maid told her, pulling the corset even tighter.
Buffy rolled her eyes and winced as she pulled the strings tighter. "Well, a slim woman who can't breathe because her corset is cutting off her circulation isn't much of an asset in the world of attractiveness. Ow! Are you done yet?"
"Yes. Now get dressed. Christopher is downstairs waiting for you," the maid told her and left the room.
Buffy rolled her eyes again and picked up the maroon-colored dress on her bed. She slipped it on and brushed her hair down. She picked up the mirror on the dresser and looked at herself. She frowned a little, wishing there was some sort of makeup available to her. Since there wasn't she sighed and put the mirror down. Then she made her way downstairs.
"Are you ready to go?" Christopher asked, holding out his arm.
Buffy nodded and hooked her arm under his.
That night, they were going to a party. She didn't know what it was for, but she agreed to accompany Christopher anyhow. What better way to experience 19th century England than to attend an aristocratic party?
It was *boring.* The party was unbearably boring. Thinking Christopher would spend the night with Buffy, she got all dolled up for him. Instead, they had dinner, and then the men retired to the study, where they drank and talked about meaningless things. She was stuck with the women, listening to their mindless jabber. Each and every single one of them was stuck up and shallow. If only they could listen to themselves talk.
Buffy sat back on the couch she was sitting on. She was exasperated. If she heard anything else about "oh my dress" or "oh he's rich" or "oh my father" she would die from utter frustration.
Her frustration led her to standing up and heading for the door.
"Why Bianca, where are you off to?" one of the women asked, noticing her departure.
"I just need some fresh air," she said, and then under her breath she added, "and a couple gags so I can shut you people up." Then she stormed out of the mansion and sat herself down on a bench outside.
Happy to be away from the party and outside, Buffy relaxed and looked up at the sky. It was amazing how you could see the stars. It would be nice to be sitting with someone looking up at those stars.
*Oh God Buffy, get a grip,* she told herself. But the view was kind of romantic.
She looked in the window and saw all the women fussing around. Her gaze went over to the big clock. It was nine o' clock, and she had a feeling Christopher would be staying for at least another hour or two... or three... or four.
That's when she thought of something. She would go visit William. He probably wasn't doing anything special. Probably cleaning the store. She stood up and started walking towards town.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
*The rays of moonlight dancing on her dark hair...* William thought. He was writing another poem about Cecily. This was his normal routine every night. Well, except for last night. He was too preoccupied talking to Bianca.
For some reason, it made him blush, thinking of Bianca. Not only was she beautiful, she was witty, smart, and her brow wrinkled in this cute way whenever she thought she said something inappropriate. All night they talked about ways to win over Cecily. This woman had some pretty wild ideas. It was funny how they seemed to understand each other. It did seem like she was once in love herself.
There was a knock on the window. William looked outside and there she was. No, not his Cecily; rather, it was Bianca. He smiled at her and gestured for her to come in.
"Good evening Bianca," William greeted.
"Writing a poem, are we?" she said, snatching the poem from under his pen. She started reading, pacing around the room. "This is beautiful," she said when she was finished. She was looking at him with those big, green eyes.
Yet another unexplained emotion swept over William that second. For a minute he felt like he was blushing. Maybe it was just because of embarrassment. "It's not finished yet," he said, looking down hoping that she didn't see him blushing.
"But it looks like it is. Have you ever thought of keeping things short and sweet?" she asked him. "Maybe that's why she thinks that your poems are 'so bloody awful'."
He looked at her, a little offended. "Now see here. I find it rather rude for you to be passing judgment on the structure of my poetry. There are not enough words in the English language to convey my feelings for her."
"You're a sap," was her comment to him. "Women don't like long, drawn out professions of love and adoration. A simple and meaningful, 'I love you' can do more than a storybook of words that half the people in town probably can't understand."
William blinked. He had never had a woman say something like that to him before. He never had a woman pass judgment on his writings. He never got any input whatsoever on how his writing was, except for everyone saying that his poems were horrible. He was quite astonished.
"William, you're a wonderful, wonderful writer, but the drabble... She doesn't know how you feel. You can go on and on about how beautiful she is, but have you once told her that you're head over heels in love with her?" she asked.
She had one hell of a point. "No," he said, shooting his gaze to the floor.
"Then there you go. You have to tell her," Bianca said. William looked at her. She was mad. It was a lot harder than that.
That was when she grabbed his hands in hers and sat in front of him. "I want you to try something..."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
To be continued...
Feedback welcome! Hoped you liked this chapter. I wanted to get the gears in everyone's head turning. I wonder what's next for Bianca and William? ;)
"Hey...! Ow!" Buffy complained as the maid was tightening her corset. "I don't see why we have to wear these things. Aren't they responsible for ribs breaking and all that stuff? Ow!"
"Now Miss Bianca, corsets are an essential part to a woman's wardrobe. A slim woman is an attractive woman," the maid told her, pulling the corset even tighter.
Buffy rolled her eyes and winced as she pulled the strings tighter. "Well, a slim woman who can't breathe because her corset is cutting off her circulation isn't much of an asset in the world of attractiveness. Ow! Are you done yet?"
"Yes. Now get dressed. Christopher is downstairs waiting for you," the maid told her and left the room.
Buffy rolled her eyes again and picked up the maroon-colored dress on her bed. She slipped it on and brushed her hair down. She picked up the mirror on the dresser and looked at herself. She frowned a little, wishing there was some sort of makeup available to her. Since there wasn't she sighed and put the mirror down. Then she made her way downstairs.
"Are you ready to go?" Christopher asked, holding out his arm.
Buffy nodded and hooked her arm under his.
That night, they were going to a party. She didn't know what it was for, but she agreed to accompany Christopher anyhow. What better way to experience 19th century England than to attend an aristocratic party?
It was *boring.* The party was unbearably boring. Thinking Christopher would spend the night with Buffy, she got all dolled up for him. Instead, they had dinner, and then the men retired to the study, where they drank and talked about meaningless things. She was stuck with the women, listening to their mindless jabber. Each and every single one of them was stuck up and shallow. If only they could listen to themselves talk.
Buffy sat back on the couch she was sitting on. She was exasperated. If she heard anything else about "oh my dress" or "oh he's rich" or "oh my father" she would die from utter frustration.
Her frustration led her to standing up and heading for the door.
"Why Bianca, where are you off to?" one of the women asked, noticing her departure.
"I just need some fresh air," she said, and then under her breath she added, "and a couple gags so I can shut you people up." Then she stormed out of the mansion and sat herself down on a bench outside.
Happy to be away from the party and outside, Buffy relaxed and looked up at the sky. It was amazing how you could see the stars. It would be nice to be sitting with someone looking up at those stars.
*Oh God Buffy, get a grip,* she told herself. But the view was kind of romantic.
She looked in the window and saw all the women fussing around. Her gaze went over to the big clock. It was nine o' clock, and she had a feeling Christopher would be staying for at least another hour or two... or three... or four.
That's when she thought of something. She would go visit William. He probably wasn't doing anything special. Probably cleaning the store. She stood up and started walking towards town.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
*The rays of moonlight dancing on her dark hair...* William thought. He was writing another poem about Cecily. This was his normal routine every night. Well, except for last night. He was too preoccupied talking to Bianca.
For some reason, it made him blush, thinking of Bianca. Not only was she beautiful, she was witty, smart, and her brow wrinkled in this cute way whenever she thought she said something inappropriate. All night they talked about ways to win over Cecily. This woman had some pretty wild ideas. It was funny how they seemed to understand each other. It did seem like she was once in love herself.
There was a knock on the window. William looked outside and there she was. No, not his Cecily; rather, it was Bianca. He smiled at her and gestured for her to come in.
"Good evening Bianca," William greeted.
"Writing a poem, are we?" she said, snatching the poem from under his pen. She started reading, pacing around the room. "This is beautiful," she said when she was finished. She was looking at him with those big, green eyes.
Yet another unexplained emotion swept over William that second. For a minute he felt like he was blushing. Maybe it was just because of embarrassment. "It's not finished yet," he said, looking down hoping that she didn't see him blushing.
"But it looks like it is. Have you ever thought of keeping things short and sweet?" she asked him. "Maybe that's why she thinks that your poems are 'so bloody awful'."
He looked at her, a little offended. "Now see here. I find it rather rude for you to be passing judgment on the structure of my poetry. There are not enough words in the English language to convey my feelings for her."
"You're a sap," was her comment to him. "Women don't like long, drawn out professions of love and adoration. A simple and meaningful, 'I love you' can do more than a storybook of words that half the people in town probably can't understand."
William blinked. He had never had a woman say something like that to him before. He never had a woman pass judgment on his writings. He never got any input whatsoever on how his writing was, except for everyone saying that his poems were horrible. He was quite astonished.
"William, you're a wonderful, wonderful writer, but the drabble... She doesn't know how you feel. You can go on and on about how beautiful she is, but have you once told her that you're head over heels in love with her?" she asked.
She had one hell of a point. "No," he said, shooting his gaze to the floor.
"Then there you go. You have to tell her," Bianca said. William looked at her. She was mad. It was a lot harder than that.
That was when she grabbed his hands in hers and sat in front of him. "I want you to try something..."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
To be continued...
Feedback welcome! Hoped you liked this chapter. I wanted to get the gears in everyone's head turning. I wonder what's next for Bianca and William? ;)