MarshAngel
watsonma@hotmail.com
Everlasting Love IV
Serena sat straight backed facing her vanity as her ladies maid dressed her hair. She was trying extremely hard not to
fidget but the effort was taking its toll and she was becoming increasingly more frustrated. She wished she did not have
to attend this dinner party. It meant spending the time in the company of frivolous ladies whose conversations meant
nothing to her as so many of them seemed to have few intelligent thoughts in their heads. It also meant she had to wear
one of the many dresses her uncle had ordered to be made for her not long after her arrival at Muncaster.
She was not comfortable in many of the gowns that had been made for her, not because they were physically binding
or discomforting, but simply because she felt inadequate. She did not feel she did many of the beautiful gowns justice.
Worst yet, she had the distinct feeling that she would pale in comparison to the other ladies invited from neighboring
estates. Thinking of the guests who would soon arrive caused a sensation in her stomach that reminded her of soft plum
pudding, a dessert she particularly disliked for its rich taste and soft slippery feeling in her mouth.
In hr nervousness she began to fidget once more causing Molly, her maid to sigh in exasperation as she attempted to pin
one of Serena's long curls into the upward sweep covered with light curls that was presently in fashion. Serena winced
as she was poked in the scalp by yet another pin. She hoped Molly would be done soon, she needed to move to calm
herself.
A few moments later Molly was done and Serena was allowed to move finally. Molly positively gleamed with pride as
she saw her handiwork. Serena looked wonderful. Her golden curls were pinned up at the top of her head so they spilled
over her ears. Nervousness had had a positive result one her pallor by bringing a light blush to her cheeks and the pale
peach silk gown flattered her creamy skin to perfection, and displayed her narrow waist perfectly.
When Serena saw herself in the mirror however, she saw a nervous child, who was a little too thin for good taste and
dressed to look like a princess when it was plain to her, and would be to everyone else, that she was simply an orphaned
waif dressed in finery. Her blue eyes reflected an insecurity that once would never have graced her normally happy and
confident face. She bit her lips causing blood to rise in them making them more swollen and pinker than usual. Sighing,
she resolved to make her way down the staircase and into the drawing room where her uncle was expecting her. He
would not tolerate lateness from her so she was making an effort to be on time.
Darien made his way down the main stairs of Muncaster. As he went he admired the beautiful tiles beneath his feet and
the intricate designs in the black metal of the banisters. As he came to the landing he noted a beautiful Roman-style
statue of a woman carrying water. Making his way to the drawing room he noted once again as he had when he had first
arrived, the cold beauty of Muncaster.
As he walked into the wood paneled drawing room he greeted some of the other gentlemen who had also gathered there
to talk before dinner began. There were a few ladies, one, or two of whom he recognized. First there was Lady Dermont
and her daughter who lived on the nearest neighboring estate. Her husband was a wealthy squire, with whom he had
hunted the day before. Their daughter Mina was very beautiful and an incessant flirt. On many other young ladies it
would have been a somewhat annoying trait, but as she was engaged to the equally playful Lord Jason Whittaker, a
young Earl, many thought it a somewhat endearing quality.
Lady Rachel Harrison was also there; her beautiful black hair piled high on her head. He had known her rather well
before she had married Lord Harrison of Mondale. Mondale was a selfish bastard, but knowing Rachel she probably
had him completely under her control. She seemed comfortable in the atmosphere of mostly men, and her beauty shone,
her mysteriously compelling violet eyes catching his across the room.
He was making his way over to her when he saw a beautiful delicate-looking blonde in peach silk, and beautiful curls
framing her face enter the room. She looked slightly familiar but he couldn't really place her face. She seemed like so
many other ladies he'd seen, delicate, demure, and seemingly perfect in every way. He knew better however. If he had
ever met the perfect female he would already be married. He was beginning to think she did not exist. He turned his
attention back to Rachel and made his way across the room to meet her.
"Lady Harrison, it's a pleasure to see you again," Darien said as he kissed her gloved hand.
"Surely My Lord," she said stressing the address, "you know better than to address me so formally."
"I beg your pardon Rachel. Please try not to remind me that I am the new Duke. It reminds me I have work to do that
I'm neglecting for this hunting expedition."
"Forgive me Darien. You're not enjoying your stay then?"
"Not entirely."
"I can see why." She said glancing surreptitiously around the room beneath her smoky lashes. "The company isn't
particularly engaging. Were I a gentlemen I'd be easily bored by many of these men."
"It seems to me they already bore you without adding to yourself the burden of masculinity."
She smiled gently at his comment, a sweet slightly seductive smile, and one that reminded him why he'd stolen a kiss
from her when he was only fourteen. "You're absolutely right."
Darien glanced around the room again. His thought once more drifted to the wild young woman he'd met. He hadn't seen
any sign of her since. Her company would be a welcome change to the usual boring chatter he had to endure. He'd even
let her beat him again if he could escape this dinner. Meanwhile however, there was a beautiful woman before him who
he knew very well.
watsonma@hotmail.com
Everlasting Love IV
Serena sat straight backed facing her vanity as her ladies maid dressed her hair. She was trying extremely hard not to
fidget but the effort was taking its toll and she was becoming increasingly more frustrated. She wished she did not have
to attend this dinner party. It meant spending the time in the company of frivolous ladies whose conversations meant
nothing to her as so many of them seemed to have few intelligent thoughts in their heads. It also meant she had to wear
one of the many dresses her uncle had ordered to be made for her not long after her arrival at Muncaster.
She was not comfortable in many of the gowns that had been made for her, not because they were physically binding
or discomforting, but simply because she felt inadequate. She did not feel she did many of the beautiful gowns justice.
Worst yet, she had the distinct feeling that she would pale in comparison to the other ladies invited from neighboring
estates. Thinking of the guests who would soon arrive caused a sensation in her stomach that reminded her of soft plum
pudding, a dessert she particularly disliked for its rich taste and soft slippery feeling in her mouth.
In hr nervousness she began to fidget once more causing Molly, her maid to sigh in exasperation as she attempted to pin
one of Serena's long curls into the upward sweep covered with light curls that was presently in fashion. Serena winced
as she was poked in the scalp by yet another pin. She hoped Molly would be done soon, she needed to move to calm
herself.
A few moments later Molly was done and Serena was allowed to move finally. Molly positively gleamed with pride as
she saw her handiwork. Serena looked wonderful. Her golden curls were pinned up at the top of her head so they spilled
over her ears. Nervousness had had a positive result one her pallor by bringing a light blush to her cheeks and the pale
peach silk gown flattered her creamy skin to perfection, and displayed her narrow waist perfectly.
When Serena saw herself in the mirror however, she saw a nervous child, who was a little too thin for good taste and
dressed to look like a princess when it was plain to her, and would be to everyone else, that she was simply an orphaned
waif dressed in finery. Her blue eyes reflected an insecurity that once would never have graced her normally happy and
confident face. She bit her lips causing blood to rise in them making them more swollen and pinker than usual. Sighing,
she resolved to make her way down the staircase and into the drawing room where her uncle was expecting her. He
would not tolerate lateness from her so she was making an effort to be on time.
Darien made his way down the main stairs of Muncaster. As he went he admired the beautiful tiles beneath his feet and
the intricate designs in the black metal of the banisters. As he came to the landing he noted a beautiful Roman-style
statue of a woman carrying water. Making his way to the drawing room he noted once again as he had when he had first
arrived, the cold beauty of Muncaster.
As he walked into the wood paneled drawing room he greeted some of the other gentlemen who had also gathered there
to talk before dinner began. There were a few ladies, one, or two of whom he recognized. First there was Lady Dermont
and her daughter who lived on the nearest neighboring estate. Her husband was a wealthy squire, with whom he had
hunted the day before. Their daughter Mina was very beautiful and an incessant flirt. On many other young ladies it
would have been a somewhat annoying trait, but as she was engaged to the equally playful Lord Jason Whittaker, a
young Earl, many thought it a somewhat endearing quality.
Lady Rachel Harrison was also there; her beautiful black hair piled high on her head. He had known her rather well
before she had married Lord Harrison of Mondale. Mondale was a selfish bastard, but knowing Rachel she probably
had him completely under her control. She seemed comfortable in the atmosphere of mostly men, and her beauty shone,
her mysteriously compelling violet eyes catching his across the room.
He was making his way over to her when he saw a beautiful delicate-looking blonde in peach silk, and beautiful curls
framing her face enter the room. She looked slightly familiar but he couldn't really place her face. She seemed like so
many other ladies he'd seen, delicate, demure, and seemingly perfect in every way. He knew better however. If he had
ever met the perfect female he would already be married. He was beginning to think she did not exist. He turned his
attention back to Rachel and made his way across the room to meet her.
"Lady Harrison, it's a pleasure to see you again," Darien said as he kissed her gloved hand.
"Surely My Lord," she said stressing the address, "you know better than to address me so formally."
"I beg your pardon Rachel. Please try not to remind me that I am the new Duke. It reminds me I have work to do that
I'm neglecting for this hunting expedition."
"Forgive me Darien. You're not enjoying your stay then?"
"Not entirely."
"I can see why." She said glancing surreptitiously around the room beneath her smoky lashes. "The company isn't
particularly engaging. Were I a gentlemen I'd be easily bored by many of these men."
"It seems to me they already bore you without adding to yourself the burden of masculinity."
She smiled gently at his comment, a sweet slightly seductive smile, and one that reminded him why he'd stolen a kiss
from her when he was only fourteen. "You're absolutely right."
Darien glanced around the room again. His thought once more drifted to the wild young woman he'd met. He hadn't seen
any sign of her since. Her company would be a welcome change to the usual boring chatter he had to endure. He'd even
let her beat him again if he could escape this dinner. Meanwhile however, there was a beautiful woman before him who
he knew very well.