Chapter 3: In which there is most awkward conversation at dinner with the Smiths
By the time Sophie finished breakfast Fanny was awake and bustling her out of the house to go shopping in Kingsbury.
"Sophie, you always wear the dreariest clothes!" Fanny admonished her daughter.
"But this is one of the dresses I found in the wardrobe in my room. They are of exceptional quality."
"Silly Sophie! The fabric is pretty fine, but those weren't for you. They belonged to the former Mrs. Smith—may she rest in peace. His mother—not his first wife, though she's dead too, though he got rid of all her stuff a long time ago...I get the feeling that there's was a disastrous match, and she only married him for his money. Anyway, Mr. Smith just didn't have the heart to get rid of them—his mother's clothes that is—so I put them in that room since at the time it was unoccupied even though I knew I wanted it to be your room although I had no idea where you were! I looked for you everywhere, but you vanished without a trace, and I wondered if you wanted me not to know where you were. I kept hearing Martha's words over and over in my head when she found out that you were gone about how I had exploited you, and I just knew that I had driven you away, for which I can't tell you how wretched I felt about it. You can't imagine the guilt that tore at me all those weeks that you were gone. You, the daughter that I have always loved as my own. And now you're back. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me? You do forgive me, don't you?" Before Sophie could respond, Fanny was plucking at a fold in her skirt, her mind obviously preoccupied with other things. "Well, these clothes are much too old-fashioned for you. Not flattering at all." She frowned at the collar that came all the way up to her neck, and at the dull gray color. "Mr. Smith's mother was certainly a dowdy old biddy… you are much to pretty to where such ugly things."
Fanny took her to the shop of one of her friends who was a seamstress. Upon seeing Sophie, she clucked her tongue in disapproval. She immediately set to business taking Sophie's measurements and picking out colors and patterns for a slew of dresses she had in mind. "You are going to look like a princess!" the excited seamstress exclaimed. Fanny beamed.
Sophie and Fanny spent the entire day in the shop, Fanny gossiping and Sophie getting poked and prodded. But at the end of the day she had a new dress, since Madam Gerard refused to return the dowdy dress she had been wearing, and several more on order, as well as new shoes, stockings, stays and hats.
When they finally returned home, Sophie was surprised that Mr. Smith was already there, though still pleased since she was hungry for dinner and didn't want to have to wait. She sat patiently with him and her mother in the parlor room as Fanny chattered about all they had done that day, until she realized that dinner wasn't being served yet. Then irritation set in.
"Isn't it dinner time?" Sophie asked Fanny who was in the middle of describing one of the silks that was going to be used in one of Sophie's new dresses.
"We're waiting for our guests to arrive," Fanny explained.
Sophie didn't have much time to wonder who would be coming to dinner when George, the butler, escorted Howl into the room. "Wizard Pendragon is here," he introduced.
Howl kissed the hand Fanny extended in greeting, and then bowed respectfully to Mr. Smith.
When he turned his attentions towards Sophie, she quirked a brow. "Pendragon, eh? Not Oak, or Elm, or some other tree?"
"We are near Kingsbury." She blushed when he kissed her hand too, which she had extended belatedly. Then he sat down next to her, so that he could whisper in her ear. "You look…enchanting. However did your mother convince you to wear something so pretty? I thought you would have cut it up into forty-seven ragged pieces."
"I like pretty things!" she exclaimed, defensively.
"I know…but you never wore them."
"Well, if you remember…it's because I spent most of my time cleaning your filthy house. Now I don't have to."
"I seem to remember a little gray mouse skittering through the dark alleys of Market Chipping."
"That dress was comfortable!"
"Ah, so then you do admit to wearing hideously unattractive clothing."
"Well, why should I dress up when you spend more than enough time worrying about your appearance for the both of us!"
"And I must say, I was missing out," he replied, leeringly. "You cut the most astonishing figure in that blue dress of yours. The color brings out your eyes, making them sparkle most delightfully—when you're not glaring daggers at me, that is. And is that color on your lips? It makes your mouth seem fuller—when it's not scolding me with that rather sharp tongue of yours, that is. And I especially love all that creamy skin exposed with the low cut of your bodice. You are the most lovely creature I have ever seen."
Sophie blushed deeply…with anger. "Really, Howl! You must stop playing the dashing scoundrel. I know the way you like to flirt and compliment the ladies you are wooing and I thought we were past that! I know you couldn't actually believe all those nice things about me. You're only being courteous."
"'Courteous?' My dear Sophie, I haven't seen any woman who was as afraid of a compliment as other women are afraid of being deserted. 'Courteous' indeed!" Howl scowled with resentment. He felt his own anger rise up at the idea that she couldn't—or wouldn't—trust his sincere compliments.
While Howl brooded, Sophie fumed. Deciding that she should change the subject she wondered aloud, exasperated, "Why have we still not been seated for dinner?"
Mrs. Smith explained. "While it is such a nice pleasure to see Howl here this evening, he wasn't the guest we were waiting for."
Before Sophie could ask whom they were waiting for, George entered the room announcing: "Mr. and Mrs. James Johnson." A rather tall woman about Howl's age, or possibly older, with dark chestnut hair piled into a sophisticated chignon at the back of her head, came rushing into the room and threw herself into Mr. Smith's arms crying "Daddy!" The man following her was just as tall, but rather corpulent, with thinning dark hair, and a very red face from seeming exertion. Howl stiffened at the sight of them.
After politely greeting Mrs. Smith, Mrs. Johnson turned to greet Sophie, but stopped abruptly when she noticed Howl. Realizing her faux pas almost immediately, she walked forward quickly. "Hello, you must be Sophie. I am Maria Johnson, your new stepsister. Fanny has told me so many things about you. I am quite sure that we will be great friends!"
Noticing her reaction to seeing Howl, Sophie asked, "Do you know Howl?"
Turning her head to look at him, as if only just realizing he was there, she nodded. "We have had some paltry acquaintance in the past."
Howl nearly choked. "Are you all right, Howl?" Sophie asked, concerned.
"I'm fine!"
"Maybe you should have a glass of water." But before Sophie could ring the bell to ask for one, Quincy came in again announcing, "Dinner is served."
Howl immediately stood up and offered his arm to Mrs. Johnson, much to Sophie's chagrin. Mr. Johnson didn't seem to mind, though, only offered his arm to her and introduced himself through bouts of wheezing. Mr. and Mrs. Smith followed them as they walked into the dining room. Sophie watched closely as Howl pulled out a chair for Mrs. Johnson, and allowed Mr. Johnson to pull out hers. She relaxed somewhat when she realized that it seemed to be the custom that dinner partners dine across from each other rather than next to one another. She still didn't like the way Howl seemed to be in intimate conversation with Mrs. Johnson. What she didn't notice the way his gaze would rest thoughtfully on her when she wasn't looking.
"I can't tell you how delighted I was to be invited to dinner with the Smith!" Mr. Johnson told Sophie, interrupting her thoughts. "They have the most delightful cook! He's from Inhico, you know. I can never get enough of his spicy prawns. But his monkfish is his specialty. He cooks it in the most delicious almond sauce and makes them chant in the most delightfully soothing way. It's very good for the digestion. I really do hope he makes it tonight. You don't know what you're missing until you've tasted his monkfish! And dessert! He introduced me to this deliciously sinful treat called chocolate! I could eat it all day…" Mr. Johnson continued to drone on as Sophie strained to overhear what Howl and Mrs. Johnson were saying to one another.
Mrs. Johnson noticed her leaning forward. "I'm sorry, Sophie, how entirely rude of us to exclude you from our conversation. What could Howl possibly be thinking?"
Sophie sat back up awkwardly. "Oh, no, don't worry about me, I was quite engaged in conversation with your husband."
"Yes, I was just telling Miss Hatter all about Montabon, the Smith's most delightful cook! And look! Dinner is served."
As the servants set about placing several dishes on the table for the dinner guests to help themselves to, Mrs. Johnson admonished her husband, "Not everyone gets as enthralled with the qualities food as you do, my love." Howl, who had just taken a bite out of the slice of bread that had just been set down next to him, snorted with laughter, and ended up choking.
"Are you all right, son?" Mr. Smith who was sitting next to him at the head of the table asked, setting down the paper he was reading. "You should drink some water."
Howl took the proffered glass and drank appreciatively. Then everyone set about piling pies, meats, breads, tarts, jellies and casseroles onto their plates and digging in contentedly. Mr. Johnson was the most vocal in his satisfaction, letting out happy "mmms," and smacking his lips on the succulent meats.
After a relative silence as the dining party began their first course, Mr. Smith decided to begin a conversation on a subject that he had much interest in. Addressing Howl, he began, "I've been meaning to ask you, since you're in with the King and all, but do you think there's going to be a war?"
"I sincerely hope not," Howl replied. "I've been trying to convince the King to use every diplomatic means at his disposal before the situation leads to that. It can only mean bad things for the country."
"But what about all those raids on the borders? We can't just let those Strangians come into our country and pillage and plunder our villages. We've got to stop them," Mrs. Johnson interjected. Mr. Johnson who was already red in the face, managed to turn even doctor at the impropriety of a woman—his wife—speaking on the subject of war. Sophie was surprised, but rather pleased that she would dare. Fanny spoke up with slight indignation.
"Mr. Smith, dear, perhaps you should save the war talk for when we ladies remove to the drawing room?"
But Howl ignored her, rising to the challenge, and Mr. Smith didn't seem to mind his daughter's impertinence. "We have had troops stationed there for centuries," Howl began, "imposing our customs and not to mention taxes on them as well. Surely you understand the kind of resentment that kind of treatment will arouse in any proud nation? Until we change our foreign policy I expect the Strangians will continue to raid our country."
"But they wouldn't be anything without us!" Mr. Johnson asserted forcefully. "Without our technology they would still be a country full of poor farmers and shepherds! I can't believe you're defending them!"
"I'm…not," Howl replied slowly, as if he were thinking about his words carefully. "I'm just trying to say that the conflict isn't as clear cut as you think."
"And if it comes to war?" Mr. Smith asked, curious.
"Then I will do my duty as a citizen and wizard to the King. But with great reluctance, will I perpetuate violence when peace is what we should be striving for."
"We are striving for peace! But those hard-headed Strangers," Mr. Johnson spat out, "don't know the meaning of the word. Sometimes violence is the only solution."
"On that we disagree. And since it seems that I've upset you with my views, I shall take my leave."
"But Howl…" Sophie exclaimed.
Ignoring her, he bowed politely to Mrs. Johnson, and Mrs. Smith telling her that dinner had been delicious and that he was sorry to leave. Then he swept out of the room like a leaf in the wind. Sophie noisily pushed back her chair and hurried after him.
Catching up to him in the foyer, she grabbed his arm as he was putting on his jacket. "Howl, what's wrong? Why are you leaving so early? Dinner had only just begun."
"I just remembered something I have to do. It's really urgent. Make my excuses for me, will you, love?" he asked her, pulling on his jacket distractedly.
"It's about Mrs. Johnson, isn't it?"
Howl looked up from his sleeves, as he had been straightening them, with a surprised look on his face. "What makes you say that?"
"You have been acting strangely since you recognized who she was. Who is she?"
"She's no one important. Now don't worry your pretty little head. I'm fine." With that he kissed her forehead and walked out of the front door, leaving Sophie with the knowledge that she had been lied to. She didn't know what made her madder, the lie or the patronizing tone he had said it in.
A/N: Sorry about the long delay between updates. I've actually had most of this written for several weeks, but just didn't get around to finishing it. Anyway, I feel that I should explain some things about this chapter.
First, if you didn't notice, in the previous chapter Sophie said the clothes in the wardrobe were pretty, but in this chapter Fanny says they are not. That's because at first they were pretty and then I decided that I needed a way to show the differences between Fanny and Sophie so her clothes got changed from pretty to dowdy, but made of the finest materials. If you will excuse this inconsistency, you can just think of it as showing how Fanny and Sophie have different perceptions on beauty, and the reason neither Howl or Prince Justin mentioned her clothing yesterday was because they were being polite, and what is most important to them is Sophie herself and not what she is wearing, although Howl does appreciate when she dresses up, which he points out in this chapter.
Also, if you're confused about the setting, that's because it's a conglomerate of different real world English time periods. The idea of dinner being held in late afternoon, early evening, with the women congregating afterwards for tea while the men stayed and talked "business" is a nineteenth century concept, but I'm not sure that politics would not be spoken of entirely in front of women, and of course I had the head of the household bring it up, and tacitly approve of his daughter's taking part in it. The whole men can't sit next to their wives custom, I stole from the most recent version of Pride and Prejudice, I thought it was a strange custom, I have no idea what exactly the custom is, and so I basically appropriated it so that Howl could sit across from Sophie where he would best be able to look at her. Jane Austen is actually a huge influence on this story. Bonus points to anyone who can figure out where I alluded to a line in one of her novels in this chapter. I also have no real style of dress in mind, other then that women wear long skirts, and corsets, and carry purses, which is also nineteenth century (I think). When Howl and Sophie travel to Wales, it will be set about 1986 when the novel was published.
As for politics, I have no real world situation in mind, although I kind of see Ingary as like England, and Strangia as like Scotland maybe, or Germany; Inhico is like Spain, Rasphut is like Saudi Arabia, Tsapfan is like China, etc. Howl's standpoint on the issue is a mix on the novel's sequel in which he feels duty bound to do as the King wishes, but also has idealistic morals like in the Miyazaki version. I usually leave out any talk of politics in my stories, and instead focus on sappy relationship stuff, but I feel that it was such an integral part of the movie that I can't leave it out. It's also a handy plot point for the things I have in mind for the story coming up. I'm really the most uninformed person in the world, though, so I'm sure it shows. Also, I created Strangers as a pejorative term, to show the deep-seeded hatred between Ingarians and Strangians.
Wow! I think my notes are longer than the actual chapter. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing…