Chapter 32: To Be or Not to Be a Lady
"And one, two, three—No, no, Astrid!" screeched a very agitated Miss Smith. I dropped my arms from Roland's and moaned. "Watch your feet! By God, you would have stepped on Sir Roland's foot if you took another step." Again, my feet were the problem. My birthday was tomorrow, and Miss Smith was awfully determined to make sure I was a true lady by that day. She would fail though. "Back into position, and keep the space between you constant." Even Roland gave an aggravated sigh. Stephanie was busy with her mother out in town to get some new dresses and he was stuck at home to help me get my dancing right. Poor Brother, I will make this up to you one day.
With a grunt, I joined hands with Roland, and he placed his free hand on the small of my back. This is the tenth time we have done this, and I have done the same damn mistake every single time. Miss Abigail began to count the beat of the unheard music and Roland and I were off. "If I have to dance with you one more time, I will kill myself," muttered Roland.
"Not if I kill myself first. Do you really think I enjoy having you here dancing with me? I despise dancing!" He pushed my hand away, signaling for me to step back and twirl, and then he pulled my hand back and I returned, thankfully, without nearly stepping on his foot.
"Finally! I think you have that down now," huffed Miss Smith. "Off to the gavottes!" Inside, I screamed.
Practicing gavottes was a terrible drill. They were fast, which meant I could not shoot cautious looks at my feet to make sure I was not about to step on my partner's foot, and therefore, if I could not monitor my own feet, I would be sure to step on my partner's foot plenty of times. My brother had the honor of receiving sore toes. Unlike the previous dances, to get the gavotte down, it took me nearly twenty-five times before Miss Smith was finally pleased. Damn dancing.
"Now," said Miss Smith, dismissing Roland with her hand, much to his relief and looking coldly at me. As I heard Roland skip happily away from the hall, I only prepared myself for her screams. "You will not hold your fifteenth birthday celebration here, in your own home. 'Tis much too small. I have made arrangements with Lord Glenn, and he has agreed to hold your birthday festivity in his grand home on the other side of town." A silent growl vibrated through my teeth. My own birthday would not even be in the home that I knew best. This woman was making it purposefully difficult for me to pass my test. Because I'd be the host in a home not my own, I myself would have to behave like a guest greeting other guests. And that did not make much sense to me. "From the list of guests I have prepared, a total of nearly seventy five people will be attending…" I stopped listening after that. Seventy five people? Looking and watching my every single move? People I probably did not even know wishing me a happy birthday? Miss Smith would die. I promised myself that, for she was preparing not my birthday, but my funeral in my eyes.
"Might I even know any of the people you have invited?" I asked. Her dark eyes turned harder than black iron, and she looked very annoyed that I had talked back to her.
"You will. I am not so much a careless woman to prevent your closest family from attending. But when you marry, your husband will be sure to know many people whom you do not, and you must be able to tolerate them all." I will not get married soon enough to remember all of this, you witch. "Now, with your brother as an escort, you will visit the grand mansion of Lord Glenn and be acquainted with him so that you know to take care of his home." She marched out of the room, nose held in the air, and I slugged behind her, shoulders slouched, feet dragging and pleased that I was not behaving like the fine lady she was trying to mold me into.
"Roland," I called. "Miss Smith wants you to accompany us to Lord Glenn's residence!" He appeared from behind the kitchen doors, a pastry in his hands.
"You want me to do what?"
"Escort us, you fool. It won't take long. Now come on before Miss Abigail whips me."
"One second. Let me finish thi—"
"Now!" I grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the house while he desperately tried to stuff his face. I managed to push him out the door with a muffled and angry, "Astrid!", and off we were to gaze upon the luxury of this Lord Glenn.
The bumpy ride to the location of my future birthday celebration was burdened with Miss Smith's burning glare. Every time I even dared to glance in her direction, she'd pinch her face into more obvious distaste and hold her enormous nose up in the air again. All the while, Roland sat slumped in his seat, murmuring complaints under his breath for having to escort me and my hideous governess. Some spots of crusted white cream stuck on the ends of his mouth from the pastry he had eaten on the way, and I reached over and wiped the mess off with my thumb. With a moan of disgust, Roland shoved me away from him. "For the love of God, Astrid! You're not my Mum!" I may not be Mum, but I am your older sister.
"You two are going to the home of one of the most respected men involved in the British establishments here in the Caribbean. I suggest that both of you re-examine your appearance before even stepping foot out of this carriage and onto his property." The woman spoke of this Lord Glenn as if the very land he owned was a sacred place, which it was most definitely not.
We reached a wide, rounding hill that ultimately ended up in a nice and organized display of palms, neatly chopped tropical bushes, and rocks. The abnormally bright green grass and colorful array of wild flowers also indicated that this place was severely off limits to other civilians, of course, there was a white stone wall, about six or seven feet high that wound around a large amount of the land. Miss Smith ordered the carriage driver to stop at a dirt path that was actually dotted with gray stones leading up to the grand home of Lord Glenn. From where we stood, we could only see a sliver of the roof of the home, with the dark burgundy colored shingles trimly placed beside one another, and on the very top of what I could see of the roof were two narrow brick chimneys, one on each end of the house.
"Off we go now," said Miss Smith, leading us to the black gate that lied in an open space between the white stone barrier. Behind the black gate was a man dressed in black, and as we approached, he gladly unlocked the gate and let us pass through. I wondered why Miss Smith did not make the carriage pass through the gate, for certainly that was what the stone path was for. When I asked her, she said she wanted me to make a very good examination of the land so that I would have a better idea of what I would be representing when I hosted my own party in Lord Glenn's home.
"Should I pace about this path then, Miss Smith?" I asked, utmost hate faintly escaping from my mouth. "Making sure that not a blade of grass is stomped on or misplaced?" Her black eyes turned all the darker and I shut up at that, for one, my eyes had caught sight of a house as big to the land as Miss Smith's nose was to her face, which meant that the house was absolutely humongous. And two, I decided not to press Miss Smith's short temper.
She did not give Roland or me enough time to stop and gawk at the house, and merely tugged on our arms with her bony wrists to Lord Glenn's front porch, which itself was large and grand. I took the time as we waited for a servant to open the door to begin my examination of this house. Its outer walls were made of bricks, but were whitewashed so that it shone brightly in the light (although that day it was very bleak). To the right and left of the massive polished wooden front doors were two rows of large windows, each containing five windows on each row, and all of them were fashioned with black shutters firmly in place. Through the windows I could see the wisps of lacy thin curtains, but my observation was cut short for the door was opened.
There stood a servant who welcomed us in and soon came a few thunderous thuds echoing down the stairs. I deemed that the owner of the gigantic building was gigantic himself. "Ah, Miss Smith," came a voice, and it came out of the mouth of a very large man, both large sideways and upways. The top of his head was covered in an all too obvious grey wig. He also had a mustache as gray as the false hair on his head, and his face was round, red and wrinkled from age and also from layers of fat.
"Greetings, Lord Glenn," began Miss Smith, curtsying ever so lightly towards the man. "May I introduce Miss Astrid Turner and her brother and escort, Roland William Turner." Roland and I took that as our reminder to bob or heads and pay our respect. I curtsied low, and he bowed low to the man we did not even know. "She is the young woman who will be using your home for her grand and very important fifteenth birthday." For the first time, Lord Glenn looked down at me, and I predicted that even Roland felt small under his stare, and Roland was almost six feet tall.
"I shall not be here to monitor how you treat my home, Miss Smith," he said, after eyeing me with a very confused face. He must have thought me too old or perhaps to young to be needing his grand home for a simple birthday. "So I will leave my servants under yours and your pupil's command. I have an important meeting to attend to in Hispaniola and I shall be gone for a couple of weeks."
"This was not what you told me earlier, Lord Glenn," humphed Miss Smith.
"A letter arrived this morning that required my presence," said Lord Glenn. His voice was deep and mellow, and I wondered if I felt the air shiver with his vibrations from the intense power in just his voice. "When tomorrow's celebration is over, I order you to see to it that my house is cleaned and tended to every day. My wife is staying in this house still, but she is with child so she shall not be bothered much. Now, I permit you all to examine my home, for I have a lot of packing to do before I leave today." He waved us off with his hand and walked back to his office, though it sounded as if the ground was rumbling.
"Well," huffed Miss Smith. "We shall take a look around shall we? No rooms will be used upstairs of course. Just the ones on the first floor. Follow me." As she walked off, Roland grabbed my arm and whispered quickly, "Look at this house! Imagine how many people could fit in here! Dear God, Astrid, Miss Smith will surely make your final test a very difficult one."
"You have realized that just now?" I asked, following Miss Abigail. "I know that I will fail terribly, Roland. Look at this house! If one thing breaks I will be doomed, and if you have taken a good look around, everything is worth a fortune." Indeed everything was. Right above our heads in the main hall lobby was a golden chandelier that sparkled with pieces of dangling crystal. The floors were polished and made out of some bluish-green stone. The winding main stairwell had a smooth, and sleek wooden banister that begged to be slid on. Oriental vases and rugs adorned the floors of the living room and parlor, and on the walls were elegant paintings framed in gold and not a hint of dust was on anything.
Miss Smith opened two large white doors and revealed the largest dining hall I had ever seen in my life. It was long and shed pure golden light from every corner. In the middle of the well-rugged room was a long table, very long. I took a moment and counted all the chairs on one side of the table. It seated fifteen on each side. Even Roland was gaping. Thirty-two people, including the two other chairs on the ends of the table, would be dining, and that would only be half of the guests! Where would the others sit? "Yes, this table only seats thirty-two, Miss Astrid," said Miss Smith, apparently being able to read my thoughts. "Another table will be brought in. Everyone will dine in this room, and even with everyone parading in, there will still be space to move about." For once I did not disagree. The room was probably bigger than three-fourths of the bottom floor of my own home, and it was only one room!
We soon made our way around the dining room. The tables were sleek and polished, with cushioned chairs to match. And on two sides of the room against the wall were narrow wooden chests that probably held the dishes and utensils. Everything was all beautifully lavished in luxury. The rugs beneath my feet were soft and clean and the sweet aroma of exotic flowers filled the room. I wondered what Lord Glenn and his wife would do in such a fine house all by themselves. Though it was quite clear what they had done, for Lord Glenn's wife was now pregnant.
On the far end of the room were two large doors. One lied directly to the right, and the other straight in front. The front one led into the ball room, which Miss Smith said I would see tomorrow and tomorrow only. The door to the right was the one that led into the kitchen, which, according to Miss Smith was a servant's domain and not where a supposedly prim lady like me should tread upon.
The tour of the rest of the house was rather typical. All the normal rooms were there, but they were just larger, more striking, and heaped with more opulence than others. After evaluating the situation, I realized that I had to keep an eye on every room that would be occupied with guests, otherwise, I would not be much of a hostess. "So, now you know your surroundings, Miss Turner," said Miss Smith. "Now the question is whether or not you are ready to be a lady."
"I assure you that all shall go well tomorrow evening, Miss Smith. As your student and a future proper lady, I will do my best to show how lady-like Miss Astrid Jacqueline Turner can be," I replied, keeping a very poised and steady tone.
"Perhaps there is some hope for you," she snorted, and with a quick gesture she led us off the Glenn property and back into the carriage to take us back home.
The time was twelve o'clock noon, and I was about ready to leave my comforting beautiful home for the massive and colossal house of Lord Glenn. When I woke up that morning, I did not say one word as Maggie hauled me to the dressing area and clothed me in a new dress. I wasn't sure if it was yellow or gold colored, but it shone like the sunlight anyway. How wonderful. A dress that will make everyone's world light up except for mine. There was not much use in studying my dress for it was just a bunch of frills truly. Other than the fact that it was embroidered with more sophistication, it was just like all the others. The corset was still choking me, but I learned how to take in large enough breaths to keep me alive.
Hair was fixed and curled, face was clean and soft, shoes were polished and new, and my soul was deteriorating from extreme uneasiness. I could not even eat breakfast that day because my stomach would have refused whatever came down, for it was full of nothing but my nervousness.
As I walked down the stairs, ready to leave my home and begin my terrible test, my knees began to shake tremendously and I nearly fell down the stairs. "Astrid!" yelled Roland, rushing forward to help me. He was laughing by the time he reached me and I shoved him off. "Happy birthday, sister," he said.
"Thank you, Roland… I mean, Mister Turner," I replied as I wobbled towards the front door. I really felt the need to run up to the privy and vomit all my apprehension away, but I had to stay a lady. I had to, or else Miss Smith would stay for another five months to teach me… and I did not want that.
"Miss Smith ain't here yet, Astrid," said Roland. "Ya don't have to be a lady just yet."
"If I don't force myself to be one right now then I will never pass this awful exam, Roland—Mister Turner." He groaned and pushed me into the living room instead of out the front door.
"Mum and Dad are in there waiting for you. Have fun, sister. We shall see you at precisely five o'clock this evening. Adieu!" He abandoned my side and ran out of the front door.
"Where are you going?" I yelled.
"To the Locke residence! I'm arriving with Adam and Stephanie!" he returned, and that was the last thing I heard him say before I turned my attention to Mum and Dad.
They stood in the middle of the room with pleased smiles on their faces and Mum opened her arms to me, beckoning me to go to them. "Fifteen years old today, Astrid," she beamed as she hugged me close. I didn't want to let go. I didn't want to turn fifteen that day, especially if turning fifteen meant I had to go through a mindless test in order to prove my worth as a lady. "An odd fifteenth birthday it shall be for you, daughter, but I'm sure it will still be worth all the time." She was right. It would be worth it, of course, not without a couple, or rather, several sacrifices of mine.
"Why is she inviting nearly seventy-five people whom I do not even know to my special celebration, Mum?"
"Well, when you are married, especially if you are married to a very popular and well-respected man, he will have more than just family at gatherings, and you must be accustomed to that, Astrid."
"I do not think Adam would do that to me, Mum," I answered. She laughed lightly at my remark, and I wondered why. Did she think I was too young to believe I'd spend the rest of my life with Adam?
"Well, just keep in mind today that you must behave like a lady. It will be very important in the future." She paused and something strange happened when I met her eyes. She looked very worn and aged, and her eyes were coated in a film of unknown tears. "Be a good girl, Astrid. But… if you do end up appearing less than a lady, your father and I will still be proud of you. All right?" I nodded and Daddy stepped forward and embraced me.
"You have grown into a fine young woman, Astrid. We wish you all the best. Happy Birthday." He kissed my forehead as he had done when I was still a little girl and sent me off with a reassuring pat on the back. Hesitantly, and with eyes stinging with the urge to cry and tell them I did not want to go through such an awful nightmare as hosting a party, I curtsied low for both of them, as low as my knees would let me, for as my parents, they deserved the greatest honor of them all.
Absorbing all my torment, I took a very large breath before I marched out of the house.
Waiting beside the carriage was Miss Smith and her escort, a middle-aged man who had red hair and was pleasantly plump with a cheerful face. "Prepared to depart, Miss Turner?" she said.
"Yes, Madam," I replied. I was helped into the carriage and soon after, with a jolt, the coach began to rattle down the driveway. Solemnly, I turned my head back and looked out one of the carriage windows, and there standing on the front doorstep were my dear Mum and Dad waving good-bye to me. The queer sadness on their faces only troubled me all the more. As if I was not already burdened by hosting a one hundred guest birthday party, I had the grave countenances of my loving parents to fret over as well.
Slowly, I averted my attention back to my governess and her escort, and I noticed that Miss Abigail Smith had the most wicked smile on her horse-like face. Tonight shall be inevitably disastrous.
The time was six o'clock in the evening, and Adam had still not arrived. In fact, no one who I actually truly knew and cherished, excluding Stephen, had arrived. Not even my parents or my grandfather were present, and I had to waste my time dawdling amongst the guests I was barely acquainted with, conversing with a sinking heart and a stomach that would burst from anxiety at any moment. The only good thing that came out of this was that I happened to remain attached to protocol and curtsied and smiled at all the appropriate times.
I excused myself from a charming group of people who were constantly flattering me for my "lovely" appearance. How I wished to tell them that what they saw would only exist for that night, but, some secrets should never be revealed.
I left their company just to return to the main hall and stare at the front doors with a diminishing hope that Adam and my family would burst through. Of course, they didn't because Astrid Turner never got what she honestly wanted and the doors remained shut, and the fact that they were not opened gave me the impulse to check on the dinner preparations in the untouched dining hall.
Without even thinking, I rushed through the white doors and was confronted by a fondling couple. Immediately, their heads shot up and I, with bewildered and slightly appalled eyes, stood dumb and met the wide, piercing blue orbs of Victor Griffith… and oh yes, the absolutely enraged face of Alexandra Westley. So he was not lying when he said he was her soon-to-be suitor. Not minding Alexandra's vividly vicious snarls, I bowed my head, appearing to be dreadfully ashamed and spit out apology after apology to them. But, I knew very well that this intrusion was quite interesting. To catch Alexandra in the act again was positively splendid. "I am terribly sorry for intruding on your business," I said, still refraining from looking at them. "I shall leave at once. I honestly just came by to make sure the dining arrangements are complete."
"They very much are, Miss Turner," replied Griffith, not the least bit disappointed that I had bumped into their secret spooning. "No need to worry." Finally, I decided that they had had enough of my purging dishonest apologies, and gathered enough courage to meet Victor Griffith in the eye. I found that he had drawn away from Alexandra and was calmly walking towards me. He stopped beside the chair to the left of the head seat and picked up a folded piece of paper that stood on its matching plate. Smirking, he lifted it up and showed it to me. It had my name written on it in fine, connected letters. "Yes, Miss Astrid," he chuckled. "Everything is in order." I sent him a hard but not too savage glare and walked up to where he stood, took the paper from his hands and placed it back on its corresponding piece of china.
I had not forgotten what he did to me when last we met. After successfully wooing me and fleeing from Adam's challenge, I chased after him, provoked to rip him to shreds. The only problem was that he was a quick and sly little fox, and I never caught up with him. Not to mention that Adam reached me first and told to me stop the very invigorating fox hunt.
"Thank you, Mister Griffith," I replied, "for informing me that all dining preparations are complete." He bowed slightly to me, the despicable grin curling on his lips again.
"Twas nothing, Miss Turner. I hope you have a well-deserved and enjoyable birthday celebration." He bent his head and kissed the back of my hand, looking up at me with those alluring blue eyes. When he was through, he said, "Come, Alexandra," and to him she went, but not without sending a murderous glower in my direction.
"Good day, Miss Westley," I said, and she only tightened her face all the more.
"It is evening, Astrid," she sneered before looping her arm around Griffith's and stalking off.
As soon as they were gone, I came to examine the seating arrangements considering that who I was seating around would greatly affect how I would behave. At the head chair was Lord Glenn's wife, she being the only true resident in the mansion and had the right to the grand head seat. Next to her would be where I sat, and across from me would be Miss Smith. Those were typical and expected positions, and I was fine with the seating until I reached the next name. To my right would sit… Victor Griffith? And across from him would sit… Stephen Westley? And even better, beside Stephen would sit… Alexandra! Where on earth was Adam going to sit? And what about my family! Is Miss Smith just waiting for me to ruin my own birthday party?, I wondered. Afraid to see what else lied ahead in the disastrous seating array but too curious to give in to fear, I looked further down the table for names.
Next to Alexandra was the chair assigned to… my dear Adam. Curses! How would I ever be able to eat if I was surrounded by a philanderer like Griffith and a charmer like Stephen? Not to mention that Alexandra's glare would be pounding down my back and Miss Smith would have her dinner knife ready to stab me if I made one mistake.
Beside Griffith would sit Roland. Wonderful. Now I had the fierce and protective scowl of my brother to add to my sack of burdens. And finally, finally, my parents sat across from each other… only four chairs down from me! It was madness! Miss Smith was keen to seat me closest to the people that made me the most uncomfortable. Grand. Just ever-so grand. It was all so grand that I wanted to vomit.
Even more disappointed with my birthday so far, I paced about the dining room, sighing and brooding again. My mind was drifting towards changing the seating arrangements, but that would be a very unlady-like thing to do and Miss Smith would fail me on the spot. In the end, I wound up plunking myself in my assigned chair and burying my stressed face into my hands. Adam has not arrived. Neither have my parents. Griffith is still an amorous fool trying to seduce me again. Alexandra is on the verge of sending a dagger through my heart and Miss Smith has arranged all these death sentences so conveniently on my fifteenth birthday. With a moan, I stood angrily from my seat and dusted off my dress. As a lady, I could not show anyone my aching emotions and had to step back out there with a smile on my face. The thing was, the smile would not surface.
I left the dining room with a very heavy expression and I even forgot my posture for a while because my sack of burdens was giving me a crick in the back, in all due seriousness. If I hadn't heard some rising uproar going on in the main hall, I would have returned to the heart of the festival with a very unsuitable appearance. Remembering my duty as hostess, a proper and lady-like hostess, I deserted my glum feelings and raced to the main hall to see what all the upheaval was about.
The commotion ended up being started by a group of young lasses who were flocked together, giggling like mad. "They're coming!" some squealed. My brows wrinkled in confusion as to who could possibly cause so much excitement among the female race. Nonetheless, as hostess, I had to be the first to greet whomever was arriving. "He's stepping out!" shrieked another as she pulled her face away from a nearby window she was spying through. Glorious. It must be another pretty cad making his grand and pompous entrance. There was a titter of wild snickers and a, "The lads have arrived!"
Lads, eh? That meant one thing: Roland and his band of miscreants had arrived. Out of the five I met on board the Valiant, three stayed in Port Royal, those being the boys who were raised here. Dobbin and Andre were assigned to another ship earlier and left some while ago, which was a good thing, especially if Dobbin was not around, for he certainly loved fancy parties for two reasons. For the women and for the drink. Kenneth, Timmy, and Samuel had stayed and would most likely strut through those doors with the ladies screaming at their heels. Surprisingly enough, even my heart began to pound wildly in my chest as I waited for the doorman to open the doors at first knock.
It didn't take long for the fluttery feeling to rouse in my gut and I began to think that I would collapse to the ground from the wait before they ever set foot inside. I believed the reason behind all that was because I was desperate for better company to arrive and my brother and his friends were much better company than all of these high-class folk. But the more I thought about it, the more my mind raced with thoughts, the more I realized that I wasn't feeling in a tizzy because of Roland and his friends, but more over if Adam would jump out those doors with them. All of the questions made me sick to my stomach really. Keep it together, Astrid. It's just Roland and his mates. Why are you worrying? It is not like Adam will not walk through those doors with them. He will. He will. Otherwise… I'd… I'd… What would I do?
Then came the knock and I braced myself for all hell to break loose.
Distantly, the herd of girls anxiously waiting for them squealed with delight, just as I closed my eyes, for I was too cowardly to face the entrances of these men, but mostly Adam, if he was even there. Would he think me a good enough lady? Would he?
"Happy birthday, Astrid!" came a unified group of voices. I managed to open an eye and was soon bombarded with the 'whoops!' and 'huzzahs!' of Roland's insane group of vagabonds. They rushed forward at me, all finely dressed in their naval uniforms and were about to shake my hand and tackle me with embraces when they remembered that they were gentlemen attending a civilized gathering and promptly bowed their heads.
I couldn't help but smirk at the sight of these boys. They would surely make the party more exciting, that was for sure. I opened my mouth to speak, prepared to ask them where Adam was, for I assumed correctly and he was not there, but it came out too formal for my own good. "Thank you all, gentlemen, for attending this festivity. Please have some refreshments in the parlor. Dinner shall begin soon." I presented my best smile to them and the boys returned cheeky grins, despite the fact that I was crumbling inside. Of course, Roland and his friends had finally arrived, but where was my Adam? And where were my Mummy and Daddy and Grandpa?
At the mentioning of refreshments, the boys were soon well on their way to the parlor and gathering rooms, but I snatched Roland's arm before he could leave. "Where's Adam?" I hissed. "Not to mention your suitor, Stephanie. I thought you'd arrive with them."
"I did arrive with them, Astrid," said Roland. "With them and Murray and Sam and Tim and—"
"Then why isn't he inside yet?" I interrupted. My soul felt as if it was being stretched out to the point where it lost feeling, for certainly all I could feel at that moment was a bitter mix of anger and worry. My foot was even shaking and my hands were well on their way to ripping my fan to shreds.
"Astrid," said Roland soothingly, already knowing why I was asking such questions. "He'll come. He wouldn't let you down. Relax, sister." He gave my shoulders a few shakes but found that I was as stiff as a wooden rod. Nothing would make me flexible again but my Adam. "I have to go, all right?" I nodded, but it must have appeared as more of a wince and Roland left to join his friends. Why! Why aren't you here yet!, I screamed inside. All I felt like doing was barricading myself in a closet for the rest of the night and weep.
"Excuse me, Miss. What about me? Am I not a welcomed guess as well? Will I not receive your dazzling smile?" I had spent the last few moments staring blankly at the floor moping again, when my attention was seized by this particular's voice. My sulking head looked straight up and an all too needed sigh of relief finally escaped me. Adam was marching right through the doors, never looking more handsome in his Lieutenant uniform as he did then. My instinct urged me to run up to him and hug him and squeeze him until he begged released, but I remembered that I was a fine lady and approached him just a tad bit more eagerly than I had done with other guests.
"Good evening, young sir," I began. "I am very glad that you have made it to this celebration. Please, would you care for anything at the moment? Dinner is to be eaten soon." He looked down at me, his soft blue eyes twinkling with delight and a faint wildness.
"How kind of you to ask, Miss Turner," he returned, a broad smile on his face. "But I fear that there is really nothing here that will satisfy me at the moment."
"What would then, Lieutenant?" I asked, a bit dismayed that I had not persuaded him in any way at all. It just went to show how "lady-like" I truly was.
"I will show you." He held my hands and brought them up to his chin, smiling so sweetly at me. All I could do was stare dreamily into his eyes not feeling the least bit nervous anymore.
Suddenly, he dropped my hands and grabbed me by the waist and twirled me around. I knew the other lasses would be writhing in jealousy but I cared not. All I saw at that time was him and the great amount of dear affection he was showing me. As he set me down, he bent his head and tenderly placed his lips against mine. He made sure to keep it brief, for Miss Smith could have been watching us from anywhere and she would be most displeased. "Happy birthday, Astrid," he whispered, hugging me again. I giggled and wrapped my arms around him tighter, resting my chin on his shoulder as we swayed a bit in our embrace.
"Thank you, Adam," I said, occupying any empty space in my memory with this time spent with him. "This birthday has been very awful without you."
"Oh, I'm sure it hasn't been that detestable," he replied.
"It has." At that, someone from behind me cleared their throat, and Adam and I hastily separated.
"Please remember your limits, Miss," said Miss Smith from behind. She said nothing more and carried on walking to the living room with her escort.
"Would you mind showing me around?" asked Adam, seeing the color sprayed on my cheeks. For the first time that day, my face lit up, but it was quickly darkened again when I remembered my duty as hostess.
"I'm sorry, sir, but I must be with my guests at all times. It would not be fair to them for me to spend all my time with my already very much loved suitor." His beaming face was shadowed a bit as well, but we both managed to remain in cheerful moods.
"Tis quite all right, madam," he replied, staying formal again. "I'd gladly escort you about the place. Is that possible?"
"Yes, very much possible." He offered me his arm, but before I could take it, a young woman, about my age, came seemingly from nowhere and gave Adam's shoulder a few quick, but caring pats. As she walked away, she looked back at us, or rather, Adam, and smiled. I narrowed my eyes in growing repugnance, but she didn't seem to mind me, and Adam did not look away ashamed or uneasy as I expected him to, but returned a weak grin and nod in her direction!
"Who is she?" I asked, as soon as she was gone and Adam had his attention on me again. I never took the arm he offered me in protest against the sign of friendship he gave the mysterious woman.
"No one. Just an acquaintance. She rode with us on the way here," he replied hurriedly, his face betraying him with rising crimson blush. "Nothing happened. Honest." I looked doubtfully at him, but finally took his arm. I still couldn't help but love him so.
"All right," I said weakly. "I believe you." But for some odd reason, I knew he was lying.
It wasn't long after the boys had arrived did my parents and grandfather at last make their grand entrance, nearly an hour and a half later than the beginning of the party. Despite their tardiness, I still could not help but want to run up to my parents and hug them tight and wail, "This birthday has been awful! Please stop it!" But I hid my true feelings behind the ever-smiling face that was Astrid and exchanged proper greetings with them.
I hated acting like a woman. It was too much. I could not hide my feelings very well at all, as a lady was expected to do. I always had to show the entire world how I felt. The problem that night was that I couldn't, and that was what was eating away at me inside.
Dinner was to be eaten very soon, and all the guests began to file into the grand dining hall. With everyone moving about trying to find their seats, reaching mine was terribly difficult, and Adam had to help me push my way through. By the time we even reached my seat, the majority of people were sitting down and unfolding their napkins and such. Like the gentleman he was, Adam helped me into my seat, but was immediately inflamed when he saw the name on the plate to my right. He pointed a finger at it with a disgusted visage and I had to hide my laugh with my fan. Victor Griffith merely stepped between Adam and me, that same grin on his face and happily seated himself beside me. With a soft growl, Adam went to find his own seat, but not without whispering, "Please keep a sharp eye, Astrid," into my ear.
"How goes your celebration, Miss?" asked Griffith, looking me in the eye with a very eager interest.
"Very well, Mister Griffith. Do you find that you are enjoying yourself?" I managed to say, but in truth, all I wanted to do was rip that smirk off his face, the scoundrel.
"Well, now I do," he chuckled, winking at me. My face was set on fire, for surely Griffith was quite a charmer. Too much of one. I averted my eyes away from him and looked down at my lap to escape his teases. But now that I had my head cast down, I couldn't help but feel several angry stares beating down on it. Looking up, I saw the vicious eyes of Alexandra Westley berating me, the worried and suspicious stare of my Adam, and the not too pleased face of Miss Smith. All of these signs of worry and anger and all I had done was act like the lady I was expected to be!
I looked to the right to make sure I wasn't getting any side glares and was attacked with Roland's steamed visage! I sighed heavily and turned away, now annoyed myself for always being the source of trouble in everyone's eyes. Thankfully, to mine and everyone else's relief, the servants were coming out of the kitchen with trays full of delectable food and drink. Good, I thought. Now we can all eat until we are fat and drink until we are drunken bastards.
The undeniable luscious food gave me the opportunity to get my mind away from the increasing amount of stares being sent in my direction and to envelope myself in the sweet and succulent aroma of mouthwatering roasted meats and steamy vegetables. But, even on my birthday, I could not be given one moment's peace. "More wine with you, Astrid?" said a voice. My fork stopped halfway to my mouth, and I was disappointed that the bit of mashed potatoes never made it there. I looked ahead of me and saw Stephen motioning for one of the servants to tend to my almost empty wine glass.
"Yes, more wine indeed, right, Astrid?" simpered Griffith as the servant poured the sour red liquid up to the brim of my glass. With a simple snap of his fingers, he indicated to the server that he was in need of a refill as well, and as soon as he received it, he took a few long gulps of wine, all the while looking at me. There was no doubt he planned on getting drunk that night. "How goes life for you, Stephen?" Griffith proudly puffed up. "Getting married any time soon?" I could tell why all lads despised Griffith. He automatically assumed that he was welcome to nose about in the love lives of other men. Stephen was far from amused with his minor's attempt at conversation, but he must have noticed that I was waiting patiently for his answer.
"No," said Stephen, slightly proud of being a bachelor. "I still haven't found my match." He made the mistake of shifting his eyes towards me and I nearly choked at the movement, only, as soon as I caught the move, Griffith firmly placed his hand on my thigh and squeezed it. That nearly made me spit out my food from surprise.
"You are well, Miss Turner?" hissed Miss Smith, as I coughed into my napkin. My eyes were even watering because of my choking spasms.
"Y-Yes, Miss Smith," I sputtered, reaching to take Griffith's hand off me, but at my touch, he only seized my hand instead. Inside, I growled and I could feel that I had flared my nostrils in angry intolerance. Griffith turned his head to the side and glared at me with a look that said, "Reveal that I am touching you and I will make your life absolutely miserable." I heeded the warning and reluctantly let him continue laying his hand on my leg. The bastard.
"Any proposals to you?" purred Alexandra, obviously not content with the attention Griffith and her brother were giving me. "As in marriage of course," she added. She said no name, but I knew the question was directed towards me judging by her eager, wicked eyes and sinister grin.
"Marriage?" I replied, deciding to act as snooty as her. "I think I can wait a year or two more before I even think about marriage."
"Why?" she shot back. "A year or two more of spontaneous courting with a different array of men?" My mouth grew hot and I forced myself to swallow down my yells along with my food, but it would not be a surprise if I managed to erupt anyway. Luckily, I forced myself to put my fork down calmly on the table, thus destroying the opportunity to chuck it at her face. How I wanted to leap forward and strangle her!
"Quite the contrary, Miss," I replied, making sure to let out just the faintest indication of annoyance in my voice. "I'd appreciate another year or two for the freedom I have as a young and unmarried woman."
"And I suppose that by freedom, you mean the chance to get yourself on a ship and kill pirates, correct?" she taunted further, enjoying her progress. I stared blankly at her, and it was certain that she really only came to my party in order to ridicule me. "You know, all that swashbuckling and gallantry you love so much?" she continued bravely, too pleased with my taut, expressionless face to back down. "Now, judging by your love of fencing, I'm sure a high seas adventure is exactly what you are looking for." A quiet murmur began to rise among my guests and my lips grew wet with the desire to scream out, "You filthy whorish witch! Who are you to be getting into my damn business!" But it ultimately ended in:
"I do not deny what you have said, Miss Westley," I returned, revealing a faux smile. "I am quite intrigued with anything on the sea. For one, my own brother is a midshipman in the British navy and I am courting a dashing lieutenant as well. I believe the question you should be asking is how can I not adore the sea in any way possible?" I raised my eyebrows at her and daintily took a sip from my glass. Ha! You haven't destroyed me yet, Westley.
"A good point, that is," added Griffith, pinching my thigh again. Just wait until Adam finds out what you have done. You'll be a dead man. "A clever vixen, she is." Sadly, I was stupid enough to flush at Griffith's compliment, which only earned a few more shouts of agreement, all coming from the mouths of men. By now, Alexandra's face was twisted in utter rage, having seen her plan go awry before her eyes all due to her wonderful suitor, Griffith.
As Griffith's comment drew quite some uproar around the table, he stood up abruptly and tapped his glass with his dinner fork to get everyone's attention. "A toast," he began. "To the lovely Miss Astrid Jacqueline Turner who turns a magnificent fifteen years old today."
"Aye, a toast!" came another shout.
"A toast to Miss Turner!" I was all very much stunned and somewhat baffled with this explosion of attention occurring towards me and while the masses of people were rising to toast to me, all I could do was sit and look around for some understanding face to clear the situation for me. My eyes locked on Adam's, and he did not appear to be happy at Griffith's toast to me.
"What is this all about?" I mouthed to him. He motioned for me to stand, and so I did, but I still was a bit dazed.
"Now what?" I mouthed again.
"Wait," he replied. There soon came the clanking of wine glasses and the slosh of the red stuff onto the dining table, and mouths chugging down the liquid like water. And oh yes, with a large and very loud, "Happy Birthday, Astrid!"
When we all settled down into our seats again, I found myself still shocked with the whole event, even too shocked to mind that Griffith had placed his hand on my leg again. Perhaps all that wine, which really wasn't at all much, was finally getting to me.
The rest of the meal was completed without any further turmoil, which worked to my advantage because usually any trouble caused was due to me and my own stupidity, and a fine lady would never show herself to be stupid, although I feared I had already done so or would in the early future. By the time everyone was getting up and leaving for the dancing to be held in the ballroom, the beginnings of the drunken state were becoming vaguely apparent in some of the men. Especially Griffith. When he attempted to help me out of my seat and I refused his arm, he began to cackle madly, for some reason finding my disinclination funny. The only words I could decipher from his inane chortling were, "You…not come… with… me?" I knew his several refills of wine would be a bad thing. Why didn't I urge him to drink less?
Eventually, he wobbled off with Alexandra to the dance floor and Adam was very relieved to finally have me on his arm again and under his watchful eye. When I stepped foot in the ballroom, I paused for a moment to gape at the enormity and shining brilliance of it all. The floors were polished and slick, and in even rows across the arched ceiling hung crystal chandeliers sparkling like giant stars. On the far left lied a line of windows that were open to let in some fresh night air to the dancing atmosphere and the lacy curtains blew about like thin shreds of cloud. In a corner to my left was the small orchestra that would be playing the music. And guess who one of the musicians was? Ian Clyde. Adam pointed him and Nattie out to me with a finger and I was happy to see that they still looked quite happy and beautiful together.
Roland and his mates went straight to the tables of refreshments which lied in the far back right side of the place. It made me wonder how they all managed to stay so thin despite their voracious appetites. "Would you care to spend the first dance with me, Miss?" asked Adam kindly. I could tell that he was trying his best to remain loyal to propriety. His constant caressing of my hand made me wonder what was really on his mind. And I was positive it was not dancing.
"I must be honest with you, love," I said as we got into position with the other couples. "I am a horrible dancer."
"I don't care if you can dance well or not," he replied strongly. "All I care about is that I get to spend just a little bit of time with you on your birthday. It was bad enough having to watch Griffith sit by your side throughout dinner. He didn't do anything did he?" The music began and by the speedy tempo, I knew it was intended for a gavotte, which was my worst dance routine.
"Well… He pinched my leg a few times," I said shamefully. Adam's grip on my waist tightened as we spun around. It was a miracle that I had not stepped on his foot once yet, or collided into another couple.
"You didn't shove his hand away?" he asked, a bit disappointed. I returned to his arms and we smoothly whirled about.
"I managed to get it off a few times, but he was too persistent. Honestly, Adam. I did the best I could without revealing what was going on to my governess' eyes. If she found out, she would probably think that I put his hand there, when that is absolutely absurd."
"It is clear that he fancies you," snorted Adam. "I swear I will kill him if he ever does anything to you." A sharp sigh escaped his nose as I whirled away from him only to return to his arms in a quick instant. "I don't understand this world of courting, Astrid. As soon as I find myself a lass I truly admire and consider spending the rest of my life with, a bunch of halfwits such as Griffith and Stephen are trying to take you away from me."
"They'll never manage to, Adam. I promise you that."
"I'd appreciate a different promise," he said, the dance coming to an end. As we came to a stop I was only confused by his statement. A different promise? What other thing did he want me to promise to him?
"What type of promise do you ask of me then, Adam?" I asked, unaware that my voice was rising. I looked him straight in the eye, for I had a feeling that these promises were an important thing to him. And indeed it was, for he looked at me with a slightly distressed visage, his brows furrowed in thought and a clear aching flickering in his eyes.
"Come, Astrid," he said softly, and he grabbed my hand and led me away from the dance floor and towards the open windows in the room. One of the windows happened to be a glass door that led out into the gardens, and he brought me out there without a word.
"What is this about, Adam?" I questioned, knowing very well that if I was gone too long, Miss Smith would have a fit. He stopped and turned around and looked down at me, and I was utterly pained myself when I saw his face.
"Astrid," he began, taking my hands. "It's quite manifest that several men have their eye on you. There's Griffith, Stephen, and I even fear that Murray has a fancy for you. Can you see those things?"
"Of course I can, Adam. But you have nothing to worry about. I'm not going to leave you for any of them."
"You say that now, Astrid, but you are not certain about what may happen in the future. You could very well end up leaving me for one of them if they ever manage to completely inveigle you." He paused and looked uncomfortable again, his face somewhat grimacing.
"I'd never do that," I said, hoping to convince him otherwise. "What have I done that has made you question such a thing?" Adam looked jubilant and fueled to prove me wrong.
"What have you done?" he echoed, mockery now part of his voice. "Astrid, you agreed to have a "word" with Griffith on my birthday and he ended up snaring you with ease! And what's more is that you allow experienced bachelors such as Stephen parade into your life as if they are harmless when you know nothing about them! You do nothing to stop other men from entering your life. It is as if you are asking for a broken relationship!"
"I'm not!" I yelled. "What would you have me do to them, Adam? Tell 'em off as if they had no feelings? I'm not heartless and it is not my fault I look this way and that I attract men! I never intend for them to follow me! Do you really think I would do that? Is that what you see me as? A whore!"
"No," he replied swiftly. "No. Astrid, I love you; I'm just afraid that you'll run off with the first man who has more to offer than me."
"For God's sake, Adam!" I screamed, waving my arms in the air. "I could care less about what a bloody cad has to offer me! Don't you know me well enough to understand that I love you? Not your money. Not your family's respected name. Not because you are a Lieutenant. In all due seriousness, I wouldn't care if you were a homeless cove on the streets because I'd love you anyway." I paused, trying to absorb everything in, but I wasn't a sponge that could soak in all the water in my sinking ship. In fact, I was quite out of breath for having to scream so much through my corset. I sat myself on the grass and covered my face with my hands.
"Astrid," said Adam. "I didn't mean it like that."
"If you honestly believe that I would even do such a thing to you then perhaps—"
"No," he intruded. "No. Don't even say it, Astrid."
"Then I won't. I'll think it," I retorted. I didn't mean what I said at all, I just felt the need to prove to him that I was loyal, that I would never leave him for some idiot like Griffith. Never. Why couldn't he trust me?
"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry that I'm always so suspicious and disbelieving. I really do care about you, Astrid; I just don't want to have to keep warding off all the men who are attracted to you."
"Do you really think you will be successful in something such as that?" I asked. "As long as I look the way I do now, it would be ineffective to rid all men who like me away from me. They'll keep coming back."
"That's why I need you to promise me, Astrid," he said, his voice deepening in gravity.
"Promise you what?"
"Never to leave. I'll promise the same." I looked up at him, confused. I did not understand what type of promise he wanted from me. He noticed my puzzlement and held my face in his hands as he crouched down beside me. "Astrid, I know that we are still young, but…"
"But what?"
"I want us to make a promise between lovers."
"As in?"
"As in engagement, marriage," he said, clarifying everything in one simple statement. "I'm going to ask your parents if I could have your hand in marriage." I felt as if a stone had knocked the side of my head and that I was in a state of shock and unexplained distress. I couldn't get married. I couldn't be promised. I was promised to my dreams already. I had to find Jack. That was what I wanted. But I loved Adam too.
"Don't you think we are a little bit young? I mean, you said yourself that I'm naïve and what good would an inexperienced wife do you?" I was shuddering with an odd combination of fear, anger, and vague elation. Not to mention that a whole load of indecision fell onto my shoulders and was making me quake with uncertainty.
"I didn't mean by an authentic and valid proposal, Astrid. Just that we are promised to each other and that when the time comes we will both be ready for an important decision such as marriage."
"But Adam, I…"
"What?" He surely did not expect me to protest against marriage.
"I have dreams, Adam. Ever since I was a little girl, I had a dream of going out to sea. Alexandra was right at dinner. I am dying to have adventures on the sea. To wave my sword around and fight of felons! I want to be a sailor on a ship. I want to be a pirate! Anything that will at least fulfill my dream of going out to sea just a little bit. I want to captain and commandeer a ship, have a crew at my command. I want to find this pirate who has been haunting my impossible fantasies for months, Adam. I can't be promised to you…" The words came out like a large breath of air that was replaced with a bubble of pure relief. I had finally stated my dreams, and saying them aloud made me feel all the more confident that I'd reach them one day. "Adam… I'm already promised to the sea." He was speechless, not to mention struggling in painful reality at my confession. "Adam," I said, reaching for his face. Now I felt dreadfully sorry for ever deciding to tell him about my dreams. He must have thought me intolerably cruel to have said to his face that I was not in love with him but the sea. He flinched at my touch and took a few steps away from me. What have you done, Astrid? What the hell have you done?
"My, my, isn't this absolutely precious?" said a menacing voice. I turned hotly around, fists clenched and eyes full of tears.
"Please permit us this private moment, Griffith," I replied, stupidly clinging to formality.
"Oh, but I must request otherwise, Miss Turner," he laughed. His drunken head must have emptied because he was back to his conniving self. "After all, it is clear that Lieutenant Locke will have nothing more to do with you, or your coquetry." Coquetry? The bastard thought I was a damn prostitute!
"Leave her alone, Griffith," said Adam, but his voice was terribly weak. Griffith's eyes burned and he marched straight up to Adam, his once laughing face now hard as stone.
"What are you going to do about it, Locke? What?" he taunted, pushing Adam. "You can't even protect what strumpet you've got." Adam held his ground and merely stalked pass Griffith, bumping him hard on the shoulder. And that was enough to set Griffith into violence.
While Adam had his back turned, Griffith took a swing, but Adam must have expected an attack and ducked his head in time. A fist flew because of me. "Stop!" I shouted. "If any of you dare to—" They didn't listen and continued to pummel each other into dust. The two of them wrestled on the floor, cursing and swearing while trying to bash each other's faces in. I jerked with intolerance. Men. When would they finally comprehend that I never wanted their attention? "Both of you stop it! Stop!" I shrieked. Griffith gave a final blow to Adam's face and I saw blood leak out of his nose. I tried to control myself and not even think about joining in on the fight, but Griffith was hurting my Adam.
"Told you you'd never be able to protect what's yours," spat Griffith as he stood up on his feet. Before I could even rush to Adam's side, Griffith turned towards me and basically hauled me out of the gardens and back into the ballroom.
"You no good—"
"Go ahead and say it, Asstrid. Go ahead and say that I'm a no good son of a bitch. I'll just tell your governess—"
"You had no right to hurt my Adam!" I screamed at his face. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and looked at me coldly.
"Why do you even care about him when you already admitted that you love the sea?"
"It is possible to love more than one thing," I muttered. Griffith only grinned his horrendous grin and clutched my waist and brought me dangerously close to him.
"Would you mind sharing a dance with me?"
"I would," I growled, trying to free myself from his grasp, but he was too strong.
"I will take that as a yes," he answered and he brought me to the dance floor. He placed his hand on my upper back as we got into position for the dance. But he slyly moved it to where my rib cage was and gave my abdomen a squeeze. Die, you filthy bastard. I shot a nervous glance around me and saw that Roland and Stephanie were taking part in the dance as well. Good. Perhaps he could break Griffith's impregnable hold on my waist.
The music began. It was a minuet and was therefore not too fast, but hopefully I'd manage to step on Griffith's toes. How I hated him so! The damn man was taking advantage of the fact that I could do nothing about his inappropriate physical "touchings" because of my governess' ever-watchful eye. I doubt she was even focusing on inappropriate contact but more on if I lashed out and beat someone to the ground.
"Why are you so rigid, Astrid?" he chuckled, slipping his hand directly under my armpit. I knew why he had done so. He wanted to get closer to my chest, the profligate.
"Why are you such a lecherous fool?" I returned. That earned me another sly and concealed pinch on the rump, and I stomped my foot on his toe. He winced and I was given brief glory, only to have him bend down close to my face again.
"Do I need to tell your governess of your less than lady-like dancing?" he whispered angrily, but by his voice's intensity I had a feeling he wasn't angry at all but more, well, erotic. I couldn't say anything in protest. Griffith was too smart. All men were too smart. Curse them. He happily welcomed himself to kissing my neck, covering what he was doing with a hand that just appeared to be soothing my shoulder. I growled all the more and jabbed his side, but he cared not. I even stepped on his toes as hard as I could, but he was too lost in his lubricious dreams to give a damn.
"Excuse me," came a voice. I looked over Griffith's shoulder and saw Roland, with murder in his eye. Griffith finally stopped caressing me and turned around only to be sent to the ground with Roland's fist. "Touch my sister again, and I will kill you, you filthy piece of horse shit!" The dance immediately broke up and the couples took off to stay clear of the fight breaking again. Another fist flew because of me.
"Why don't you mind you own business, you son of a bitch!" roared Griffith as he wiped his bloody nose and lunged at Roland.
"Astrid's business is my business, you bastard!" snarled Roland as he thrust his fist straight into Griffith's jaw. It didn't take long for Roland's mates to come to his aid and fists, curses and bruised faces were popping up in the brawl. I stood, back turned to the violence and my blood boiling. How many times did I have to tell those idiotic cads that I... never… wanted… any… fists… to … fly… over …ME!
"Get up, you lot of scoundrels!" I shouted. Again, they refused to listen to me. "Get your sorry arses up and away from each other before I have to beat you all the ground!" They continued to fight, and my body contracted with ferocity not even a pack of hungry beasts could suppress. HOW DARE THEY IGNORE ME! "That's it!" I dove into the bout, and grabbed the arm of the first person I managed to hit. I sent a couple cuffs at their face before pushing their face into the ground and digging my knee into their back so that they could not stand up. I hooked their arm behind the back and lifted their head. "Get up and leave this fight, now." I had grabbed Timmy, and he looked utterly shocked to have been beaten by me and as soon as I let him go he went straight off like a bullet.
I singled out Kenneth Murray from the brawl and pulled on his hair, but not too hard. I didn't want Roland's mates to hate me. "Astrid?" he squawked, and I pinned him to the ground with an angry huff. "Leave at once and I won't beat you up," I said. "Leave Roland and Griffith alone so I can give them hell." He looked at me, bewildered, and I warned him with a raised fist. He broke off and now I was left to Sam, Roland and Griffith. I was surprised Adam did not come and help Roland.
Sam I got rid of easily. All I had to do was find where his leg was and drag him out of the tiff. He squirmed about as I yanked him to the refreshment table. "Sorry, Sammy," I said. "I can't have you gettin' in the way of Roland's and Griffith's most deserved beatings." I sprinted off to get back to Griffith and Roland who were still wrestling on the floor battering each other to unconsciousness.
"Get up, little brother," I ordered, grabbing his collar from the back. I pulled on it severely and heard a gasp come from Roland, which was enough to make him stumble back and away from his useless fighting.
"Astrid, what the hell are ya doin'?" he squealed.
"Shut up," I barked, giving his face a good slap. "I warned you before that if any fists were unleashed over me, I'd give you all bloody noses and black eyes. And so it shall be if you do not back off and let me take care of the problem."
"Sister, you clearly underestimate—"
"Move!" He moved and I hauled Griffith up by his frilly little collar. "Listen, you smutty lying bastard! I'm sick of you barging in and assaulting my mates, most of all my Adam! And I do not appreciate how you see me as nothing but a trollop to bed!" I raised my fist, wanting so much to smash his pretty face in.
"And what?" he croaked, grinning. "Ya gonna beat me up, Astrid?" The fact that he wanted me to explode and tear him to pieces made me want to show him that I was not a callous and violent woman.
"No, Griffith," I huffed. "Whipping you would do no good for me." I banged his head on the floor before releasing my grip on him and stood up, only to face the wide-eyed stares of all one hundred of my guests.
Embarrassment and extreme mortification took over me. I had just done the most unlady-like thing possible in a party that was suppose to portray how refined and civilized I was. I didn't even want to think of what Miss Smith was thinking at that moment, but I didn't have to wait long to find out. Before I knew it, she had marched right up to me, her fan being slapped in her thin, bony palm. Managing only to barely hold her furious glare, she took her fan and whacked me right across the face with it. "You… are… a… disgrace!" was all she said before she stormed off and left me with a swelling cheek and flooding eyes.
The pressures of being a lady were pulling on me, practically stretching me out until I was thin and wasted. The longing to cry and howl like a new-born babe was inching closer and closer to becoming reality. I wished to run to my parents and to have them cradle me like a little girl again, but that would only make me appear a coward. Ladies never wept in public. They never lost their temper. They fought with words, not fists. They were clean, proper, poised and refined beings made to serve and please their future husbands. I was not and never would be. What kind of a man would want to wed an untamable wench with no rules or morals to hold her to the wishes of society?
My intention was to put that smile back on my face, to cope with the degradation and to celebrate my fifteen years of existence, but based on what I had seen and done that day, there was really nothing to celebrate. All these people were here for no reason. They came to celebrate the birthday of the daughter of one of the most respected women in the town, and what did I do? I beat up a bunch of boys and shouted with no thought as to how my audience would react. Miss Smith was correct. I was a disgrace to her and everybody else. I was a disgrace to the world. No one wanted a witless, naïve girl who ran wild and violent across the sacred and pure earth that they treaded upon. What good would that bring them? None. I was just surprised that I never realized that I would never fit into this society until then. Fifteen years it took for me to understand such a simple thing. It just went to show how dense I was. How stupid I was.
The first drop fell, landing on my polished pumps in a feeble splash. Then the other came, and then another, and soon my vision blurred and the inner sobs began to tremble up my body to find a way out. My nose began to run and I was wiping my face and nostrils with my arm to stop all my grieving, but they would not stop. Even my body was betraying me. That was how pathetic I was.
How awful and vindictive could one be to have shoved their one true love away, to have slapped and beaten their own brother, to have been merciful to those who saw them as sport and a source of derision, and to have forgotten what being a true lady was all about? How? How was it all possible that I had defeated and disregarded all things I needed to succeed in if I was to become accepted in just one night? How was it that everything I failed at, was everything that meant something to the people that surrounded me? Why? How? When? When will I get my opportune moment? When will the prime hour arrive where I would finally thrive? "Astrid," said a voice. I did not heed it. A pair of arms wrapped around me and held me close, and I was too absorbed in my own guilt and shame to have thanked them for the comfort.
"I'm sorry," I sobbed. "I'm sorry I disgraced you and Mum. I am. I really am." It was good to be like a little girl again and to be held in the arms of my daddy.
"You're not a disgrace, daughter," said Mum, joining in on the embrace. "And you never will be."
"We love you too much to allow you to be one," said Roland, taking part in the largest sign of affection I had ever been given in my life.
"You're n-n-not m-mad?" I sniveled.
"Of course not," my family said in reply. "Why would we be angered by who you are? We love you because of who you are, Astrid."
"Never forget that," added Daddy. I took a deep breath and began to feel refreshing peace on the tips of my fingers again.
"I won't. I promise."