Raised Ambitions

Innocent Childhood

Upon lunchtime Marianne had requested Baby Eleanor to be brought in by her nanny. Ivan would be meeting part of his new family. Eleanor was fair, like both her parents, but it was too early to tell just which relative she took after the most. Marianne had been a bit disappointed that she hadn't the darker features of her aunt for whom she was named after. She had hoped, perhaps they would share a strong bond. Eleanor had been an angel throughout all of Marianne's troubles. Never a word of malice, only sagely advice. Marianne hoped that her daughter would inherit some of her own sister's sense.

She was dressed quite prettily in her pristine, embroidered gown that hung three feet below her tiny toes. Eleanor even had a little white cap to cover her hairless head. The nurse had her wrapped in the yellow crocheted blanket that Margaret had made for her. Her first completed project! There was hope for her too, the though brought a smile to Marianne's lips. 

"Here you go my lady" the maid said as she leaned to lay the babe tenderly in her arms. Martha was a dear woman, having raised her own children, she was an expert when it came to babies and Marianne was glad to have her. Marianne opened her arms to welcome her child close to her. She had been growing heavier as her first birthday was growing nearer.

"My, someone has been eating well," Marianne teased.

"She has a good appetite, my lady" Martha looked quite pleased, almost as if Eleanor was her own. Marianne used her free hand to pat Martha's.

"You have done well, thank you Martha." She smiled, "Now where is that dear little boy?"

"Shall I go inquire after him my lady?" but no sooner had the words left his mouth, that Melanie could be seen trying to hang on to Ivan who was puling her quickly into the courtyard.

"He was excited to see you again my lady" his nanny laughed. Ivan came to a halt when he saw the mysterious bundle in Marianne's arms. He had never seen another baby before.

"Come" Marianne beckoned to him sweetly.

"Go on, Ivan." He turned to look at Melanie, and began to pull her hand. He was already quite attached to her, "alright" she laughed, "I'll come too."

As he approached, Marianne dipped her arms further down too his level from where she sat, "Look Ivan, this is Baby Eleanor. Isn't she pretty?" the mother asked. He looked on mystified.

"Is it a doll?" They all laughed.

"Aye! m'boy, she is one to you!" Martha laughed.

"She's like a delicate flower, Ivan, you want to be very delicate with her." Melanie whispered behind his ear. He nodded, and moved his hand as if to touch her, but pulled back last minute, looking unsure towards the baby's mother.

"It's alright Ivan, go ahead." Marianne encouraged him. "She will be like a sister to you Ivan. You can pet her gently," Marianne understood his curiosity perfectly.

Melanie took one hand to caress the baby's cheek, then took Ivan's hand from behind his back and taught him how to gently  touch the baby's head.

He laughed, "It's warm and soft like kittens".

"He is a dear one m'lady," Martha smiled at the scene before her.

A year later, they would have a similar scene with Martha carrying Eleanor and Marianne with Brandon Jr. in her arms. Ivan couldn't wait for him to grow fast. He was determined to teach him everything he needed to know.

"Grow fast Baby Brandon, grow fast." He whispered into the baby's ear.

While he waited for Brandon Jr. to grow up, Marianne and Brandon were surprised with their last child four years afterwards. They had been blessed with another daughter whom they named Romola, after Brandon's late mother, but she had all the temperament of her aunt Margaret, who looked smugly with satisfaction as her niece grew.

She was the oddball in the family. Her straight dark locks made her stand out amongst her fair haired family. Her coloring was similar to Ivan's and many people mistook them for siblings. Her hair was a deep chestnut almost matching his black locks. Her skin was originally creamy white, and heavily freckled from romping in the fields with her brothers. What stood out the most were her icy blue eyes that reminded everyone of broken mirrors and frozen icy waters in winter.

Romola could hardly stay still enough to learn feminine pursuits, for which she caused much distress to her older female relations who took it upon themselves to educate her.

Romola would come home as a child trailing behind her brothers, equally covered in mud from playing too close to the pond instead of joining her elder sister Eleanor in her embroidery or music lessons. The daintiest pursuits she had were gardening because it allowed her to get her hands dirty and singing. She enjoyed long excursions on foot for which she would borrow Brandon's pair of boots.

Many a times she disappeared from her governesses, only to return when her stomach rebelled in hungers. Horse riding, archery and any athletic sports allowed to her were sure to be tried.