Andy's Story

Prologue (part 2) London and the Little Season

And so it was that the months past. George had gone back to Oxford and Andrea had been down to the village looking over fashion plates for as long as she could manage before her patience wore too thin. Then it was choosing fabric for the designs she had chosen. All of this under her mama's watchful eyes.

Lady Wentworth had criticised some of her choices, but when push came to shove her daughter could be just as stubborn as her husband. And so she had let the choices stand, as much as she didn't like some of them. The colours, however, were where she had to put her foot down and told her daughter that she couldn't have the bright colours that she wanted but had to have the pastel shades instead.

"You are a debutante, debutantes don't wear bright colours. I'm thinking of you darling, I know what the gossips will say if I let you wear anything brighter than a pastel." Lady Wentworth had shuddered just thinking of the sneers and cuts that would be directed at her and her daughter.

And then that had been the end of that day. Andrea had announced that she had had enough and it was time to go home. Only for her to disappear for the rest of the day down to the lake to fish.

Fish had been served more times over the following months then Lord and Lady Wentworth cared to have it. But they didn't complain in front of their daughter. They knew there were days when Andrea had been down to fish and that they had not been served, for which they were grateful. They had come to realize over the years that when fish was served Andy had had a tough day and had needed to calm down, and they had figured that it was better for her to fish then for her to take it out on anyone of them or the household. And so they ate fish. Cook did a good job of trying to make different types of dishes, unfortunately they didn't always work out.

By the time it came to leave everyone in the household, from the smallest pot boy to the butler, was heartily sick of fish. Although none told the Lady Andrea, not wishing to her hurt her feelings, as they all loved her dearly.

Messages had been sent to London so the town house could be prepared for them to descend upon. Trunks, hat boxes and overnight portmanteaus were packed and piled in the middle of the foyer ready to be loaded into the travelling carriage the following morning.

As they pulled away from the house the following morning, Andrea stared out the carriage window at the staff as they saw them off, the luggage carriage having left a little bit earlier then they had. Not having been far from her home village of Oakfield Andrea looked out the window most of the journey to their first stop for the night. After she had seen that the countryside didn't change that much she was disinclined to view it for longer than necessary the following day.

Small villages along the way were of little interest to her parents and so they didn't stop the carriage for a better look around, although Andrea would have enjoyed this as it would have broken up the tedium for the trip. The only places they stopped were at the coaching houses for changing of horses and for food, drink and to use the rest rooms.

They made two overnight stops at respectable looking inns on their way up to town. The beds were lumpy but at least the sheets were clean and the food was edible.

When they arrived in London they made slow progress to their town house on Mount Street in Berkley Square. All in all a really uneventful trip to London. Her parents not wanting to waste a moment of the opportunity afforded to them by finally getting their only daughter to town.

Upon finally arriving at the house the footman opened the door and let down the step for the family to descend, Andrea getting out last. The three story house that she stood before was impressive, she gave her parents that. As they entered the front door the butler greeted them, and Andrea was introduced to the London staff. Not that she would be able to remember all their names to start off with, but eventually she would manage, she was sure. So for now she would just remember the most important ones. That of the butler, Mr Abraham Johnson, and housekeeper, Mrs Louise Kipple.