In Darkest London

Chapter 6 ~ Chastity {Archery}

The sun danced amongst the clouds high above Richmond park; the air was surprisingly mild for an autumn afternoon. Chastity needed to steady her breathing if she was going to make the shot. She closed her eyes, allowing the momentary heat of the sun to warm her cheeks and paid very close attention to the rise and fall of her chest until the chatter from the crowds seemed to dull and fade into the breeze.

She could hear nothing then but the sound of her beating heart, like a drum beat in her ears, a countdown - three-and-two-and-one, der-dum, der-dum, der-dum. She opened her eyes to focus on the target as her arm lifted upwards and over, like so many times before. Only this time, the weight of the competition was too heavy for her shoulder to bear and her arm dipped.

'Come on Chas, you've got this.' She heard her mothers voice; she was always her biggest supporter, she'd never been to a match of course, she died long before she was old enough to compete, but she always encouraged Chastity's hobbies no matter how unconventional.

She tried again, following the smooth leather trail of her strap; she fingered at the arrows until satisfied with her selection. She paused and drew another breath before plucking the arrow from its quiver. The crowd took notice and fell silent as Chastity drew back her bow, her heartbeats chant changing to 'don't miss, don't miss, don't miss.'

She let go.

The split second it took for the arrow to leave her bow and travel the sixty yards to the target felt, to her, like a whole season. The crowd grew loud again as her breath caught in her throat and the grass beneath her feet began to soften, as the sinking disappointment set in.

Hattie's voice appeared from behind. "It was a wayward plan."

Chastity turned, looked her dead in the eye and made note of the way her lip curled with a hint of satisfaction. She never did make a habit of showing any kind of praise or encouragement when it came to her sister's love of archery. Despite it being the only socially acceptable sport for a woman to play, Hattie is a traditionalist and believes a womans place is to be in the spectator seats. "It wouldn't have been anywhere near enough, anyhow. Now stop avoiding -"

"I had to at least try," Chastity snapped, before she could be rebuked any further.

Hattie began tugging at Chastity's belt. "For heaven's sake, Chastity. Get this off will you and stop -"

"My commiserations." A familiar voice interrupted.

Hattie immediately let go and spun around. She held her hand out. "Sir Lucian! What a lovely surprise."

He took her glove in his hand and kissed it in a rushed, but polite manner, then turned to Chastity as she began unbuckling her belt. His lean arm stretched out and his hand took the weight of the quiver from the small of her back. She released the clasp and he set the gear down on the ground.

"Thank you," Chastity said courteously, but inside, her simmer of agitation had just hit boiling point. From losing the prize money, from Hattie's attitude and from that very moment, being confronted with just what she intended to avoid when she'd entered the tournament.

Though he smiled a genuine and warm smile, his eyes gave off a sense of serious intent. His stature, along with his attire, oozed a certain significance of wealth and social status. He took Chastity by the hand and bowed his head, planting a delicate but itchy moustache kiss on the back of her knuckles, which made her shiver even in the light of the sun.

"Miss Whitlock," he said, looking up and straightening his back.

"Sir Lucian," Chastity replied as luke-warmly as she could manage. She took back the grip of her hand and let her arm fall awkwardly by her side. "I wasn't aware of your interest in women's archery." She eyed Hattie with suspicion.

"Actually, your dear sister took the liberty of sending a steam-pigeon to inform me of your taking part," he said as he casually gestured toward Hattie, who positively beamed in his presence.

"Is that so?" Chastity gritted her teeth. "How kind of her to do so."

"Quite the competition," he said.

"Quite the prize money I've just lost too," Chastity muttered under her breath.

"Chastity!" Hattie scolded, with a look of embarrassment.

"And I am fond of the sport," Sir Lucian went on, seemingly not to notice the comment. "So I thought what a delightfully fun outing it would be to come watch all you little ladies playing 'Robin Hood and his band of Merry Men,'" he chortled.

"How dare-" Chastity lunged to take a step towards him but Hattie caught her elbow and gave it a pinch.

"How delightful of you to come," Hattie interrupted, tugging Chastity back to stand obediently by her side, like a mother silencing her child. Oh look, here comes Father."

Sir Lucian turned to greet him. "A good afternoon to you, my Lord," he said.

"Yes, and to you, fine gent," Lord Whitlock replied, breathless from the walk over the field.

Chastity yanked herself free from Hattie's grasp and flung her arms around her father.

"Bravo Pumpkin." He stepped back, holding her at arms length and studied her face with a glint from the sun in his eye, or was it a tear?

"Father I lost. It's all lost." Chastity began to sob.

"Shhhh now my dear Chastity, I am always tremendously proud of you and your mother would be overjoyed with your fighting spirit," he said with a tone of absolute sincerity. "But," he sighed a deep, heavy sigh, "I'm afraid the time for games must come to an end."

"Games?" Sir Lucian overhead. "You mean to say this beautiful daughter of yours has other hidden talents in the sporting world? Perhaps you'd allow me a hand at cards someday?" he suggested, looking back at Chastity now and grinning like a cheshire cat in a waistcoat.

Lord Whitlock stepped back and smiled. "Why of course! My dear daughter would love to, wouldn't you Chastity, hmm? Why don't you come by the house on Friday evening for a game? Yes, the four of us can play together," he offered.

"It's a date," exclaimed Sir Lucian.

Chastity felt the colour drain from her cheeks as Hattie's lip curled up into a smirk.

"Excellent," said Lord Whitlock as he looked back at Chastity with sorry eyes. "That's arranged then."

"In the meantime, I wondered if I might borrow your daughter for a promenade around the boating lake?"

"Oh! But I need to g-" Chastity started.

"She would love to," Hattie coughed.

Chastity shot Hattie the look, but she just shot one right back at her which made her glance over to her Papa, expectant and broken. She had visions of the day people would come to take the house and everything they owned, knew and loved; of her dear Papa being stripped of his dignity and dragged off to debtors prison; of her beloved mechanical help being melted down into liquid copper to help pay off the debt, or worse the scrapheap down at the black markets of the East End she'd only heard terrible stories about. Father had relied on Adelia so much more since their mama passed away, she thought and began to wonder how either of them would cope without her. She was part of the family, but that's exactly what would happen. Chastity hung her head down and stared at the crisp, brown leaf scrunched on the ground beneath her foot.

"Wouldn't you Chas!" Hattie prodded.

Chastity looked up and studied Sir Lucian's face for a moment. He was handsome enough, she supposed. He had a strong jaw, nice neat eyebrows and quite the symmetrical face. She remembered reading somewhere that the more symmetrical a person's face, the more attractive they are meant to be to the opposite sex. She pondered that for a moment; it didn't make the slightest bit of difference to her how symmetrical his face really was, she was more interested in his nature. He had an air of mystery about him and she couldn't quite put her finger on whether it was a good sort of mystery or not.

Her gut twisted. Then she looked over to her Papa standing next to him and had to crane her neck somewhat. Sir Lucian was quite a short man and therefore not a suitable companion, she decided.

"A walk sounds quite pleasant," she managed to say, without sounding too jaded.

Afterall, what choice did she have left?