Chapter 3: Family moments

Canterbury, Kent, England; Early October 1806.

Marianne Barrington's fingers were freezing cold as she played a cheery tune on the pianoforte in the crowded living room. One of her numerous brothers was accompanying her with the violin while the seven other siblings danced loudly, trying to stay warm in the coldest autumn yet. And it was only October! Marianne couldn't imagine what the winter months would be like that year.

Mrs. Barrington was trying to read a book, snuggled against her husband near the fireplace, but the happy crowd around her was distracting her from her reading, so she put her book aside and smiled at her children. She was glad that they all had grown up in a happy home, despite the little money they had. Especially since that year had been quite a bad one: the farm hadn't given as much bounty as it had in the previous years, and they would all suffer for it. But everything was done and now the winter months would see them confined to the fireplace to keep warm with the little wood they had.

Marianne laughed and she missed a few notes due to her cold fingers, but no one noticed and everyone danced.

Until, somehow, a loud banging on the door stopped everyone mid-dance and mid-laugh. William, the violinist, went to the door with their father. They weren't expecting anyone. Who could it be? One look at her mother, and Marianne knew she didn't really want any unexpected visitors, or at least not for an extended period of time: they couldn't afford it!

"Look who's here!" her father said, laughing and coming back into the living room with their two surprise guests a few minutes later.

"Aunt Lizzy!" the little girls cheered as they ran to the finely-dressed woman covered in furs for the voyage. She was with her husband, Baron Jacob Lockhart, also dressed in fur and traveling clothes.

"Elizabeth!" Mrs. Barrington said. "What a pleasant surprise!"

The beautiful lady hugged Marianne's mother. "Oh, it's so good to be in a warm home! It was freezing in the carriage." She squeezed Mrs. Barrington's hands in thanks for the welcome and then hugged Marianne. "How are you, my dear?"

"Very well, thank you," Marianne replied. She loved her godmother almost as much as her own mother and the two wrote frequently.

"I'm sorry I didn't write in advance to tell you of your arrival, Caroline," Elizabeth said to her hostess, "but we decided last minute to take the long route to London and come visit you on our way there. We would have arrived before any letter could."

"You're going for the Season?" Marianne asked, stars in her eyes. Oh, how she always dreamed of going, but her parents were poor, and her mother couldn't introduce her to the court since she hadn't been presented herself.

"Yes, dear!" Elizabeth said. Then she looked at Mr. and Mrs. Barrington. "We also came here to ask if we could bring Marianne with us to London." She paused, gauging their reaction, but they didn't say anything. "As a Baroness and a somewhat relative to Marianne, I could introduce her to the court," Lizzy explained. "Marianne is now 18 years old, it's time for her to come out into society, don't you think?"

"Oh! Mama! Please say yes!" Marianne said, begging. "Papa?"

Aunt Elizabeth – who wasn't really her aunt, but Caroline's closest friend – smiled at Marianne's excitement. "I also hear the Prince himself will be in attendance, doing his first official season as well," she said. "Caroline, think about it: Marianne could find a good match." What wasn't said but clearly implied and understood by everyone, was that Marianne wouldn't have to marry a penniless farmer like her mother had, even if it was for love. She could make a good match with a wealthy young man and contribute to her family's welfare as well.

Marianne knew begging was unladylike, so she kept quiet, though her eyes said it all. Her parents looked at each other and nodded. "Alright," her father said. "You may go with Elizabeth and Jacob."

"Oh, Papa!" Marianne said, fiercely hugging her father. "Thank you!" Then she gasped, suddenly horrified. "What am I going to wear?"

Aunt Lizzy laughed softly and took Marianne's hand in hers. "All in due time, my dear. We will be early enough in London to have time for some shopping, I promise." She then quickly looked at Caroline, before Marianne's mother could object to such an expense. "My treat," she added with a wink to Marianne.

After some discussions around tea and biscuits, it was decided that the trio would leave in two days' time, so Marianne would have time to pack, the horses would have time to rest, and the hosts could afford two more mouths to feed for two days if they had one less for the next 5 or 6 months.

/ / /

London, England; End of May 1815.

To feel closer to his late wife, James liked to spend his Sunday afternoons in the rose garden. She loved to tend to her flowers and they had spent many an afternoon there, just enjoying each other's presence and talking, away from curious glances and ears.

The charcoal in his hand colored his fingers a dark grey as he sketched a portrait of his wife by memory. He was afraid to forget how she looked and he surprised himself by wondering what color her eyes were! He knew they were blue, of course, but he couldn't for the life of him remember the shade! How many times had he looked at them, thinking that he would see them until his dying breath? But he hadn't really seen them… he was glad his drawing was in black and white because he wouldn't have been able to color the eyes… or the exact blond shade of her hair.

He stopped drawing and held the picture at arm's length, making sure it was good, but there was something off about her chin and her eyebrows. James frowned, trying to figure out what was wrong and he realized again that the memory he had of her was slowly fading away! After four years, it was evaporating from his mind like smoke… And the names to draw the next day for his Selection!

He crumpled the paper in his fist, making a small ball of paper and throwing it in anger far away from him, only for it to be picked up by two small hands, whom he hadn't heard approaching.

Duchess Eleanor appeared around the rose bush, her light blue short-sleeve dress flowing slightly in the breeze, and she uncrumpled the paper, staining her fingers in the process. She looked at the drawing and smiled before looking up at her father who sat motionless on the white wrought iron bench.

"Good afternoon, Father," she said, curtsying to him.

"Hello," he replied, his voice almost cracking.

"She's pretty," Eleanor said, handing him the paper. "Is this Mother?"

"Y-yes," he replied. "Do you recognize her?" he asked, surprised. How could she? She died when Ellie was born.

"The painting in the drawing-room," the little girl said. "It looks like her."

James hadn't set foot in that room in months– years, even. It had been his wife's favorite room and they had had their portrait done just before she became pregnant. But he couldn't bear looking at that painting: they looked so happy in it! Which was an emotion he hadn't felt in a long time.

Eleanor climbed on the bench next to her father. "Uncle Henry told me we were going to go to the beach this summer!" she said, starting the conversation. She sat up straight with her little hands in her lap, all proper in front of her father. Maybe if she was the perfect little girl, he would like her? It broke James' heart to see her like this; she didn't deserve a father like him who couldn't even look at her without being bitter about her mother's death, even if wasn't her fault… right?

"Did he, now?" James replied. Why on earth had Henry told her? Having her around the young women would do no good!

"Yes! He said you were going to find me a new mama, too!"

Had Henry been there with them, he would have punched him in the face. He just took a deep breath instead. "We'll see about that," he said. "But yes, we're going to Brighton and we are going to have many guests with us."

Eleanor smiled. "I've never seen the sea, before!"

At that, James smiled and he remembered the first time her mother saw the sea, herself. "It's beautiful, you'll see."

Eleanor smiled and looked at her father, enjoying every minute of this little exchange with him.

"Miss Eleanor?" a woman's voice called. "Miss Eleanor? Where are yo– Oh, your Royal Highness," the girl's governess said, curtsying to the prince. "I'm sorry. Miss Eleanor slipped away from me and–"

"It's fine," James said a little too harshly. "It is Sunday afternoon, Miss Hawkins. Give her some freedom."

"Yes, sir," Miss Hawkins said, before going to stand a bit further away so as to not disturb them.

When James looked at his daughter again, she was beaming at him, used to being reprimanded or ignored by her father most of the time. He honestly didn't know what had gotten into him to reprimand the governess instead of his daughter, but he felt good about it. And maybe having her in Brighton wouldn't be all that bad.

The crumpled drawing lay between them on the bench, and a wave of love went from his heart to his daughter for the first time in a very long time. Henry was right: he needed to find her a mother and the Selection was the solution. He just hoped Ellie wouldn't get too attached to the ladies before he could eliminate them and chose only one by the end of the summer. He did hope it wouldn't take too long…


Hey, thanks for reading (yes, it's kinda a filler chapter while I wait for the forms hehe), and thanks for your reviews! I hope you enjoyed that little glimpse of Marianne, we'll see more of her (and them) in the future. Not sure yet if I'm going to do 2 timelines in each chapter, but who knows?

You can either send me the forms through FF or on a Word doc through Discord (NOT pdf or Google doc, pls) ;) b

k, byeee