Chapter Nine Scars Of The Past Part 1

"Lord Maxwell is an old…suitor of mine", Alannah said in a voice filled with fear and hatred.

Stayne looked down at her, sympathy in his gaze. "How did he come to be your suitor? When did you meet him?"

Alannah shivered. "I met him the same night of the Masquerade."

Alannah sat in the carriage, musing over the events of the night. She had been extremely reluctant to attend the Masquerade at first. The idea of wearing a dress and hobnobbing with the vacuous members of the Red Queen's Court had been extremely boring. What had made it worse was that the King had specially requested that she attend, as he had heard that she was a marvelous singer, and he wished for her to sing for the Court. She would much rather have gone riding, but her mother had been adamant that Alannah show some signs of propriety. Alannah snorted softly as she recalled what her mother had said in one of her rare moments of lucidity.

"After all, dear you are well over 20. For a Lady of your age to not have a husband yet is rather embarrassing. You need to get your head out of the clouds and find a suitable spouse." Then Jessicah Sullivan had lapsed back into the hazy twilight world of her madness, and began to hum meaningless songs. Alannah had sighed sadly, and reluctantly agreed to attend the Ball-if only so the hens at Court wouldn't be able to have any new ammunition for their vitriolic gossiping.

And, as much as she was reluctant to admit, the idea of being in the Red Queen's castle was an intriguing one. She imagined it full of dark rooms, with shadowy figures that stalked through them. No doubt also, the Queen had a severed head planted at every few feet instead of a torch. Alannah knew that this was probably unlikely-she knew about the Queen's fondness for execution, everyone did, but she somehow doubted that the Queen cared what happened to the heads. For all Alannah knew, she could have slung them in a ditch. But she had a rather macabre imagination. 'I just hope nobody loses their head during the Ball.'

When she had arrived, and her name announced, all eyes had turned to her. She noticed the clear contempt in the gaze of many of the Ladies, and she struggled to control her temper. 'Bloody hens.'

Her eyes swept around the room, taking in the revelers. Suddenly, they rested on a tall figure dressed in black. He had his arm around the Queen, and even from where she was standing Alannah could tell that he fervently wished he could be elsewhere. Alannah's eyes swept over his tall frame appreciatively. She noticed the heart shaped eye patch, and briefly wondered how he had come to be wearing it.

The Queen spotted one of the Ladies, and Alannah sighed as the man was swept out of her sight. She looked over, trying to catch a glimpse of him, when she spotted a garishly dressed Lady flouncing towards her. Alannah set her jaw, and smiled with false cheeriness at her. "Lady Germaine. How nice to see you."

Lady Germaine, who looked 60 but dressed like a woman half her age, simpered at Alannah. "My dear, how wonderful to see you attending a Royal event. Tell me, how is your mother doing? I feel so sorry for the poor thing, you know. She and I were such dear friends in our younger days."

Alannah clenched her fists, struggling to rein in her temper as she felt her eyes flash red. She took several deep breaths and got herself under control. "She is doing better. Her periods of lucidity are getting longer, but there is no guarantee she will ever come out of it. I take care of her as best as I can."

Lady Germaine patted Alannah's arm with a large, fat hand. "She is so lucky to have a caring daughter like you."

Alannah subtly rolled her eyes. She knew what was coming next. The same speech that she had heard from her mother several times a day. The 'But you need to find yourself a husband' speech. Alannah wondered if perhaps it was hardwired into these ladies brains.

Before Lady Germaine could begin to pontificate, Alannah noticed the one eyed man again. He was standing behind the Queen's throne, a very resigned expression on his face.

"Lady Germaine? Who is that man?"

Lady Germaine turned and looked over the crowd. "Which man, dear?"

"The one standing behind the Queen."

Lady Germaine looked at him in disgust. "Oh. That, my dear is the Knave of Hearts. I believe he is the Captain of the Guard. Also, I believe he is the favorite of the Queen. Now, my dear as I was about to say..."

"Yes, thank you Lady Germaine, but the King is calling me. Would you excuse me?"

Alannah breathed a sigh of relief as the carriage came to a halt in front of her house. She opened the door and alighted, smiling mischievously at the mock scolding expression of the coachman. "Now, Lady-you know 'tisn't proper for you ta be openin' a door. That's what yer mother 'ired me for, after all. I do like t' earn me keep."

Alannah laughed, and then replied in the same dialect. "I know, but ye canna expect me ta behave like a lady, can ye? I wouldn't know how to conduct meself."

The coachman smiled. "Verra true. Ye best get inside, looks like yer mum 'as a visitor."

Alannah looked at the drive, noticing for the first time that there was another carriage parked in it. Wondering who the visitor could be, she walked into the house.

Her mother met her at the door, a strange dreamy expression on her face. "Oh, Alannah, you are so lucky."

Alannah raised her eyebrow completely bewildered. "Am I? And what is this luck that has come my way?"

Her mother sighed happily. "Lord Maxwell has asked for my permission to court you. Oh, Alannah-he is so very wealthy and handsome."

Alannah's bewildered frown deepened. "Mother, I have never met Lord Maxwell."

Lady Sullivan smiled. "That is easily repaired. He is waiting in the library. Come along, dear. We mustn't keep His Lordship waiting."

Alannah sighed reluctantly, and followed her into the library. Lord Maxwell was standing with his back to the door, poring over the shelves of books. He turned at the sound of their footsteps, and Alannah felt a rush of unexplained revulsion run through her at the sight of him. She nearly staggered with its intensity. Lord Maxwell was handsome, with black hair just starting to go gray, and a clear, unlined face with ice cold blue eyes. He swept his gaze over to her, and she immediately felt like she was being coated in a layer of slime.

Lord Maxwell walked over to her, and taking her hand in his, gently kissed it. His palm was cold and clammy, like a fish. Alannah nearly vomited, but managed a weak smile. She felt bile rise in her throat at the sound of his voice.

"Lady Alannah. I must say, you are even more beautiful than your mother said. I was a friend of your father's, you know. He often spoke of having a daughter that could rival the White Queen herself for beauty. I thought he was exaggerating, but on seeing you, I realize he spoke the truth."

It took every ounce of effort Alannah had to keep herself under control. She spoke in a calm voice. "Thank you, Lord Maxwell. I am flattered to hear such praise. May I have my hand back?"

Lord Maxwell smiled, and gave her hand one last squeeze before releasing it. Alannah placed it by her side, forcing herself to restrain from wiping it off on her dress. Her mother smiled happily.

"Well spoke, dear."

Alannah rolled her eyes. "Thank you Mother. Lord Maxwell, I do apologize, but I must take my leave of you. I am rather tired. Would you excuse me?"

Lord Maxwell smiled, and Alannah shuddered. "Of course, My Lady. I merely came here to inform your mother about my intentions, and to see if I could meet you. Since I have done both, I shall bid you two lovely ladies a good night. I hope to see you again soon, Lady Alannah."

'Over my dead body, you guddlers scut,' Alannah thought angrily. But she plastered a smile on her face and replied in a calm tone. "That would be nice, Lord Maxwell."

When Lord Maxwell had left, Alannah wheeled on her mother, anger and disgust on her face. "If you think for one moment that I am going to allow that…vile creature to be my suitor, then I am afraid you are sorely mistaken. I would sooner face the Bandersnatch than have him court me! A friend of my father's? Hah. That means that he is a slurking urpal slackush scrum!"

Alannah suddenly gasped in shock as her mother slapped her hard across the face. "I will not tolerate that vile language in this house. Is that understood? You should be thanking the Fates that you are being courted by someone as prominent as Lord Maxwell."

Alannah rubbed her cheek, looking at her mother in anger. "I didn't realize you understood Outlandish, Mother. I thought you regarded it as a peasant language."

Lady Sullivan shook her head. "I don't need to understand it. I got the basic idea."

Alannah grinned evilly, and was about to say more when she noticed the twilight haze begin to seep back into her mother's eyes, and she began to hum 'The Lobster Quadrille'. Alannah smiled sadly, and taking her mother's arm, escorted her to her rooms.

"Try to get some sleep, Mother."

Alannah left, and walked to her own rooms, lying down on the bed with her hands behind her head. She gazed up at the ceiling, and shuddered at the thought of Lord Maxwell courting her. 'I will just have to make excuses for not being in his company. Perhaps if he notes my reluctance he will leave me in peace. Besides, I would much rather be courted by that Knave.'

Stayne smiled at Alannah. "You wanted me to court you? I'm flattered, love."

Alannah nodded, and kissed his cheek. "Yes. I told you I was intrigued by you, didn't I?"

Stayne kissed the top of her head. "I do seem to remember you mentioning it. But what happened with Lord Maxwell? Were you able to fob him off with excuses?"

Alannah shivered. "No. I had underestimated just how bad he wanted to…court me. He was obsessed with me. He sent me letters, poetry, flowers, jewelry. I burnt everything, even the jewelry. I made every excuse I could to not dine or ride with him. But he still kept trying to win me over. Finally, he came to the house while my mother was away."