Of Lords And Ladies
Lesson Two: Your husband's word is final.
Cora didn't see her new fiancé for almost two months after the "arrangement" was made. These were, she knew, her final months living in her family home, and she made the most of it. She'd miss the country estate once she left – undoubtedly she'd be moved down to London where her new husband probably worked.
(Oh, if only she knew.)
After a while a letter arrived, which was odd – she never usually received letters unless one of her sisters had gossip, and there hadn't been any significant social events recently. Slightly confused, she opened the creamy white envelope (noticing the high quality of the paper) and read the letter inside.
Dear Lady Cora,
There is an event, hosted by my boss and close personal friend, being held in London on the 22nd of March (this coming Saturday). I feel it is an excellent time to present you to my colleagues and friends and shall also give us a chance to talk for the first time.
I shall pick you up from your London home at seven o'clock sharp. I expect you to look as presentable as possible, and bear in mind that this is a formal event.
Yours,
Gokudera.
Cora threw the paper onto the small wooden table beside the chair and groaned. Formal events were bad enough, but so far her impression of Hayato was that of a rude, arrogant and irritatingly gorgeous man. He just expected her to turn up to this event at short notice, stating that she was to look as presentable as possible (Jesus, he was almost as bad as his step-mother) so he could present her to his friends! What was she, an ornament?
Yes.
Really, that is all she was – a pretty face at the end of his arm and a body to churn out many healthy sons to inherit his wealth. At the end of the day, that's all her duties were – the two of you didn't even have to speak. And anyway, what was with him referring to himself by his surname?! (A surname she would soon be expected to take).
Sighing, she heaved herself to her feet and attempted to sort out her crumpled skirt (all those hours spent learning to sit like a lady and she still forgot to actually do it). Plans were going to have to be made and the servants in London would need to be informed immediately that she was coming down to stay. Plus, she doubted very much that any of the dresses she currently owned would meet Hayato's evidently high standards – she'd have to hope the dress that was currently being made in London (which she had been planning on wearing on her debutante, although she supposed that had now been rendered irrelevant) would be prepared in time,
"MOTHER!"
Her mother was a saint. She really was. Cora didn't know how she'd done it. Within a few short hours all plans had been made – a letter had been sent to the London house, along with a reply to Hayato assuring him that she could firstly make the event and that she would ready for the given time ("Part of being married is doing as your husband says", her mother had told her firmly as she complained at this part). The stables had been alerted that the ladies Bonneville would need the carriage the very next day ("Such short notice!" Cora heard one of the stable hands grumble as she returned to the house) and one of her maids had been sent along with the letter courier to alert the dress shop in London of the suddenly shortened time period ("They'll understand," her mother reassured her. "Things like this happen all the time.")
Cora, in the meantime, had spent copious amounts of time stressing over actually seeing her fiancé and attempted at least four times to persuade one of the maids to run away with her. The maid told her quite frankly that she'd last about fifteen minutes out in the "real world" (which was as close as she could come to calling Cora a spoiled rich kid which, in fairness, she was) and that she was sure Hayato would be quite the charmer in real life. Cora was dubious, but stopped planning her escape.
The next few days were, ironically, the most fun she'd had in months. Admittedly the carriage ride was not fun at all – especially because she had to stop at a friend of her mother's house in Northampton overnight. The journey could have been completed in one day and in considerable more comfort if she'd travelled by train, but her mother didn't trust the "iron horse" (as she referred to it) and insisted on travelling "the way our ancestors did for centuries."
However, upon arriving in London early Thursday evening, she was immediately greeted by the London servants who, as they did not have to attend to her family 24/7, were a lot friendlier than the usual staff. Everything had been cleaned at least a dozen times, judging from the heavy aroma of polish lingering in the air, and they'd even left a "Congratulations on your engagement" card on her pillow, which was sweet, but only served to remind her of the reason she was here.
The dress shopping next day was excellent. The shop she visited was owned by a rather snobby (and fat) lady who constantly looked like there was a bad smell hanging around her nose, however the dressmaker herself was ancient, lovely to the customers and spent most of her time putting the owner in her place.
"Cora!"
"Bessie!"
She hugged the tiny seamstress hello, and she held Cora out at arm's length to appraise any changes that may have occurred.
"My, how you've grown!" she exclaimed, even though they both knew she hadn't in the slightest. "We've been working through the night to finish your dress," she added cheerfully, gesturing to the evidently sleep-deprived seamstresses seated around the shop. Cora gave them all a grateful smile, feeling her anger towards Hayato increasing by the second.
Impressively, they'd completed just about everything. A few adjustments had to be made here and there, fitting the dress to her body perfectly. Even she had to admit it looked rather nice, the deep crimson fabric flowing to the ground, gently accenting her curves and moving in a way that made her seem almost... graceful.
As ever, the corset was unnecessarily tight, but for once it almost seemed worth it. She hoped his step-mother was there, just so she could show the old hag that she could be beautiful if she tried-
That train of thought was shut down rapidly. It would not do, she told herself, to think of her future mother-in-law in that way; what if she accidently said something out loud? No. It had to stop.
For the rest of that day and the majority of the next, Cora devoted her time to preparing for the next evening. It was extremely dull and mostly composed of sitting around listening to her mother and other ladies of London instructing her to "not speak unless spoken to" and to "look pretty" and "laugh in appropriate places". Most of it went over her head, but she tried to at least take in a few pointers.
By the time Saturday evening arrived, she was a nervous wreck. Her heart was pounding and the desire to vomit was almost overwhelming, but despite all this, she somehow (miraculously) managed to look rather nice.
I hope he thinks I look okay, she thought to herself. She may find Hayato rather rude in his approach, but she still wanted him to think she looked nice. Undoubtedly, he'd be as dashing as always.
At seven o'clock exactly, the doorbell went. She stood nervously; nearly falling over from her shaking legs, and took a deep breath.
"Are you ready?" her mother asked quietly, leading her to the door.
"Yes."
No. But I don't think I ever will be.