Spring 1889, Enola POV
Julia, it turned out, was not the matronly figure who loved rules that Enola imagined, but an extremely intelligent young woman who seemed to relish the lifestyle she was allowed since choosing spinsterhood. While talking to her brought up insecurities about whether she was making the right choice, Enola found herself captivated by the raven-haired woman's impromptu and animated lecture on society politics. Even Tewkey, who while a Lord, was not at all interested in the politics in general, had to split his time between watching the spectacle and watching Enola's reaction to it. He was quietly happy that his mother had found a governess so alike to his fiancée that she would not knock the spirit out of her. Fashioning Enola into a finished society lady was one thing, but turning her into the meek and mild girl some men wanted for a wife was simply another.
After a few months of balancing detective work, lessons with Julia, and occasional chaperoned meetings - as well as one delightfully unchaperoned secret meeting - with Tewkey, Enola found herself once again in the Dowager Marchioness's drawing room. "Julia has been filling me in on how you are progressing dear." She spoke over her cup of tea, "I hear you have taken to Latin like a duck to water." Enola smiled at her, enjoying the praise but knowing there was a true point coming. "My father often told my sister and I, that an intelligent wife was a great asset to her husband, especially when were evading our governess." The Dowager reminisced, "He was right of course, and would think you a fitting match for my boy." Enola looked at her puzzled, unsure if the Dowager had meant that as a compliment, "Thank you, ma'am?" she asked and then rambled unthinkingly, "I honestly thought you thought badly of me because of my background."
The Dowager laughed warmly, "For a girl who has been raised unconventionally, you have always acted the part of a society miss quite well, as evidenced by Miss May Beatrice Posy." They shared a smile, "I was quite fooled, as much as I hate to admit it, and your lessons with Julia have only polished you further. Thus, I think it time for you to enter society, at a ball held to celebrate the engagement." Enola's eyes went wide, and quickly fired questions at her soon-to-be mother-in-law who tried to calm her "My debut?" "Yes." "At a ball." "Yes." "Held in my name." "Technically Tewky's, but yes." "In a ball gown?" "That is usually the dress code." "Well, that is all terribly exciting," Enola lied, trying to rush out of the room in a ladylike manner, "I best get going, letter to write and such." Before the Dowager could ask her to sit down again, Enola was running through Basilwether Hall's thankfully open front door.
A week later Enola was in a tea room in Covent Garden with Viscount Tewkesbury and, due to an error in communication, two chaperones. He watched her, wearing the blush suit she wore to find him in the flower markets, staring frustratedly at a piece of cream cardstock.
'The Dowager Marchioness of Basilwether
Requests the pleasure of your company at a Grand Ball
held at "Basilwether Hall", Hatfield Grove, Basilwether,
on Friday, February 22nd, 1889, at 9 P.M., to celebrate
the engagement of Viscount Tewkesbury, Marquess of
Basilwether to Miss Enola Holmes.'
"Mother has always been overly enthusiastic about pomp and circumstance." Tewkey teased, drawing Enola out of her panic, "My father used to say it was the French blood in her." She looked up at him worriedly, "I still need to make my debut at a ball, wearing a ballgown." He tried to paste on his best encouraging smile, "It could be worse, my sweet," he looked at Mr. James sheepishly, knowing he would get lectured for being overly familiar, "You could be made to wear a court dress and curtsy to a cake like most girls your age." Enola had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing, "A cake?" Tewkesbury nodded, "Taller than me." "I doubt that is even possible." She flirted back cheerfully, earning a light blush from her fiancé. "Whatever Mother dresses you in will look lovely," he quickly glanced down at her current dress, "Even if it is a frilly, canary-yellow monstrosity." Enola shuddered at the thought, "Yes, but it will be incredibly uncomfortable." They were then interrupted from their light-hearted bickering by Mr. James, "My Lord, it is time Miss Holmes got back to her studies."