Chapter six
1815 Plymouth, England
6 years later ( present)
Her aunt was gravely ill. The knowledge plagued Mabel, it consumed her with such a nervewrecking fear. With the cruel letter between her fingers she reached for the cold metal before slumping down with the wall, colour drained from her face as she blankly stared.
Could this be the end, No!
She refused to think such absurd thoughts, her aunt will not! God forbid!
With a sharp breathintake she told herself not to cry, she refused to let such emotions take over. A waste of time which she did not have at all. What comes next requires all of her endurance, an three day carriage ride to London.
She could not break down,
She stood up with her shaky bones, her aunts words replaying in her mind as if it were not from years ago, as if it was today.
Yet Mabel promised and gave her word, not wanting to accept, not wanting to believe that her aunt had an deadly disease. She recalled that day so vividly, because that memory was glued and reminded her of the reason why she has the energy to live, to wake up.
Six whole years of trying to find her aunt at every corner of england, she had sent men for the job, who all failed , until she found Mr Smith. He was pricy but more than worth it. He found her aunt alive, at least that lifted a tiny weight for her to breath properly.
Her prayers were answered, she needed a little bit of time, three days.
Heavens lord! Her aunt was alive!
With a wry smile lifting the corners of her lips she folded the letter into a quarter and tucked it in her gown, and just in time came her maid Loretta striding into her bed chamber, "My lady, you seem to be in an excellent mood, has something occurred?" with her curly blonde hair the maid looked anything but a maid, she looked youthful and beautiful. Something twisted in her chest when she saw her, perhaps the hidden reminder of herself.
Shaking that thoughts of her mind she cleared her throat with her gaze towards the curious blue eyes, "Don't mind me, I am just being silly as always," though it did not seem that she bought her words, Loretta knew the difference between curiousity and prying into ones business. And that was something Mabel was glad for. With a cheeky smile Loretta was about to prepare the usual morning baths but Mabel quickly called, "Not today, I need to leave could you--- No I will call out for Walter,"
Loretta halted in tracks, "But my lady you cant go out like that, let me prepare----"
The sickening reminder that she did not have time, made an feeling rush inside her guts, acid consumed her throat as she met her maids worried gaze, "No one will see me, do tell me if someone did the last time" with that remark Loretta seemed puzzled, "Yes you were quite discreet my lady but that's utterly improper!"
Heavens lord how she wished to just scream that she will be gone for days straight and perhaps months and if that wont stir the word improper from a lady.
And then the worse of the scenario came to mind
Her father.
"My lady are you alright?" Lorettas voice brought her out of her trance, Mabel tried her best to figure out a way to convince her father to allow her to leave for London, her perfume boutique and the adequate curve in selling might do the work. But her father was never the one who could be convinced, no one had to go through the mountain and probably the deepest jungles to get what they strived for.
Realising that her maid stood completely dumbfounded with widened eyes Mabel answered brisquely, "I am well, perhaps your right.. I shall take a bath"
Loretta breathed out of relief as if someone held her In grip, with quick strides she left Mabel standing or more like pacing in her bed chamber. A habit that quite frankly only made her more troubled with thoughts, but it at least prevented her from going insane.
Think for gods sake! Something, anything that could leave her father in ease of her residing to London. The marquess of Plymouth in other words her father which was still till this day was almost impossible to grip, another lie she had lived her whole life thinking her father was dead.
If only she did not live gloryfing her mother for all those years it would save her the pain. When her father and she met, he explained how he searched for , wanted her in his life, saw her as his daughter before his mother took her away. In a span of years she had everything she could ever dream of, her father was a admired nobleman, respected. Therefor the missing daughter of his was a shocking statement to the socitety, thinking that Lady Stephanie hastingon was found, she wonder if anyone knew about her, the identity she had lived with her whole life before becoming Stephanie. Though no one would dare to question a Marquess daughter she was thankful the past was far away this time.
Than it hit her. Like a bolting strike of memory from her previous dreading conversation with her father, she realised that it could work. That he could be convinced
"My lady! Where in heavens are you going?" her maid shouted as Mabel stormed out of her bedchamber and headed down the wodden stairs, in quick strides she came down and saw her father not in his study but instead by the dinner table, his gaze left the newspaper and with a wide smile he greeted her, not wanting to waste any second she held his gaze and said
"I want to join the season ball, "
Her father stared at her blankly in almost disbelief, she would've laughed where it another day were she had never been this serious, it seemed that she did not need to use her vocabulary because he solemly focused on her, "As in being courted? Just yesterday you were against it" the same blue eyes that reflected on herself stared back at her. She was an spitting image of Jeroeme Hastington, the only difference was his grey hair with blonde streaks, and her brown long hair.
Mabel took a deep breath, "I changed my mind, men are not horrible creatures, in fact they do have intelligence, kidness, I cant live in hate of them. Mayhap its time for a new perspective in life" the lies in her words seemed not unbelievable, her father tugged at his collar as he watched her with silence before finally speaking
"I want the best for you, my daugher"
"I know"
The marquiess seemed transfixed that his daughter behaved so agreeably, Mabel was never rebellious but she never was afraid to say her opinion, "And no man that I do not approve of will court you, Stephanie"
Stephanie... she was Stephanie Hastington. Another new part in her life that she never knew, she could swore that no surprises could ever strike her. Her whole life was a total lie.
Mabel bit her inner cheek to reply something that she badly tried to hold the urge to say, but instead she nodded curtly, "Yes father"
The interrogation finally came to stop, Mabel chanted in her head as her father lightly narrowed his eyes before nodding, "That could be fixed, Our country house is suited and you can invite your lady friends and let me do the rest"
And before her father could read his newspaper again she interrupted,
"I must've forgot to input this tiny information father... i want to join the season ball in London"
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