God's Crusade

Part Eight

Misplaced Faith

December 2033

"Sixteen mistakes," Miss Freeman sighed as she crumpled the piece of paper and tossed it dismissively into the fire. Mena had spent an hour regurgitating that morning's lesson, some one thousand words, but she had quite obviously failed to listen hard enough and had made far too many errors. Her guardian usually allowed her a few little inaccuracies but sixteen was very clearly beyond the pale. She knew she would be punished, probably later on, before she was bathed and dressed for dinner. "Is that good enough, Philomena?"

"No Miss Freeman...I can only apologise, Miss Freeman," Mena murmured, already almost shuddering with fear, hanging her head in shame.

"Sixteen sins...but we shall discuss this later...I am expecting your father any minute." Miss Freeman rose and stepped out from behind her desk in the room they had turned into a proper little schoolroom for their pious maiden, leaving Mena standing before her. "He will not be pleased to hear of this morning's efforts, I am sure. However, he wishes to speak with you and you must be prepared, Mena."

"Yes, Miss Freeman," Mena responded as a good maiden should, trying not to smile. Her father was back home. Not that she could ever think of London as home. Not anymore. Not once she knew what it was really like. But she had still kept her promise. So he had to keep his, of course. Breathing deeply, she felt the corset trying to stop the air getting to her lungs as she wondered if he would notice the difference in her. It was only eight weeks. But she knew she had changed beyond all recognition, at least on the outside, and he had to be able to see it, to see that Miss Freeman had gone beyond their agreement, so carelessly entered into and so callously betrayed. She would tell him if she had to, just to stop the nightmare, but he ought to be able to see it himself. She did not think it was up to her to bring his attention to such insanity. Jen Freeman was nothing but a monster.

"Hands." Mena obeyed the command instantly, ready to accept her mittens. Her corsets and mittens were familiar restrictions to her after eight weeks of training with Miss Freeman. She had agreed to it, of course. Damn it, she had more or less suggested it, volunteering for her fate in the aftermath of their joyous triumph at Windsor. Everyone expected her to move to Washington and to support her father in his role as the new Ambassador, to set an example to the Americans, and to do that she understood that she had to have some training as a maiden before they left, because although no one expected much more than a performance, it had to be a convincing one. She was not pious and, as the Prime Minister himself had said, no one expected her to be. But she still had to know how to behave. Meeting the King made Mena recognise the truth in that, and when they got home she had discussed it at length with Jen and her father. He had been against it at first but Mena convinced him that she needed to know more and Jen had agreed, suggesting that it could be done if Mena was willing to put her mind to it and do as she was told. Mena still choked on the fact that she had persuaded him, not the other way around, with Miss Freeman's enthusiastic assistance.

"I mean, there was a protocol for meeting the King but I still needed Jen to rehearse me to get it anywhere near right, and I think some training would help me get it right when we get to the States," Mena had said to him, so stimulated about going to Washington and helping her father make a success of his huge promotion. After all the Prime Minister had chosen her as much as her father, and that was an honour. Charles Buckingham was not a man who found women remotely useful outside the home in any normal circumstances, so she was striking a blow for feminism, even if that was something of an outmoded concept in modern Reformist Britain. She was an important part of the plan too, and she wanted to get it right for herself and for her father. "I'll have to meet lots of people, and even if it is an act, it ought to be a good one, don't you think?"