Stir of Echoes

Ripples In Time

Helena McMicheal had always been a fascinated by history. The more mysterious the better in her opinion. Her grandmother would always tell her that ladies did not need to know history. A woman's place was in the home tending to her husband. Thankfully Helena never heeded the old woman's words.

As other young women her age were out finding suitors she had her nose in one of her father's medical books. Knowledge was power her mother always taught her. The more you know the less things in this world will surprise you she always said. A small knock came at her chamber door and she looked up over the thin rims of her glasses. Sarah the housekeeper poked her head inside and frowned at the young woman.

"You are still not dressed young Miss! It is nearly midday. Your grandmother will be her any minute to take you into the city for a new dress." Helena groaned and placed a scrap of paper she had been taking notes on in between the pages of her beloved book. She loved her Gran dearly, but hated being forced to wear frumpy gowns to this party and that party. All she wanted was to be left alone to her books.

"Alright Sarah, I'll go dress. Tell her I will be down shortly when she arrives." The weathered woman gave a curt nod and shut the door. Helena rose from her bed and placed her beloved book back under her pillow. In no time she found a charcoal gray dress and black shoes to match. She wasn't fond of bright colors and it gave her an opportunity to annoy her Gran. Since she was little the old woman had tried to dress her in lighter colors, but to no avail. Helena always went back to more neutral colors or just plan dark ones.

She finished brushing her ebony hair and pinned it up in a bun. Her bright blue eyes stared back at her in the mirror as she made sure every thing was in place. Her features were more like that of her long dead grandmother. She was nearly a spitting image of the woman. Black cholera had taken her when Helena's mother was still but a child. Only a few scant painting and pictures remain of Edith's mother. Helena was lost in thought as she tied her shoes, but was jarred back by the shrill voice of her Gran.

"Helena Constance McMichael, get down here this instant!" The young girl cringed and hurriedly tied her other shoe before bounding down the stairs. Old widow McMichael was tapped her foot as she waited for her granddaughter. "You let her get away with too much Alan. Her head is always in the clouds and her nose in a bloody book. It's not healthy." Alan, Helena's father sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses.

"She is not like other ladies her age mother. She finds solace in her books and the worlds they take her to. She is much like her mother." Helena silently stood at the top of the stairs and listened. Her blood boiled at what her Gran said next.

"Her mother is not a role model. She was duped by that man and you took pity on her by marrying her. I was against it......"

"From the start. Yes mother, I know. We have beaten this dead horse since she and I returned from England. Drop it mother." Helena went to step off the top step and go tell her Gran to get right back in her carriage and return home, but a hand caught her shoulder.

"Don't answer anger with anger Helena." Edith's smiling eyes sparkled with unshed tears.

"She has no right Mum." Helena shifted and stalked back into her room. Edith followed and wrapped her arm around her daughter once the door shut. "I don't know why she bothers coming here and taking me into the city. She has never excepted that I am not like Aunt Eunice or any other lady she thinks is perfect."

"Oh my darling girl she just doesn't understand you and that is her failing. Don't let her harsh words toward me effect you so."

"You're my mum, how can I not?" Edith smoothed her hand up and down her daughter's arm.