To Hate The Duke

Chapter One - Secret Doors & Secret Meetings.

A party. I cannot and will not ever in my life find any sort of enjoyment out of that word. It involves idle chatter, bad food and the unnecessary alcohol that one must drink to contribute to said party, thus must mention my hatred for wine, beer and, whilst we're on the subject anyway, men.

"Darling, put your earrings on." Cries mother.

"I'll be in the car!" Shouts Dad. "Make sure to bring the cake!"

Oh. The cake. I almost forgot.

"Got it." I yell, carrying the golden dessert in my hands.

As I was saying, wine, beer and men. Men. Haven't really had the best experiences with men, they tend to be quite pervy, quite smelly and the vast majority of the times, not sure this is a word you find on a dictionary but, breaky. Meaning they end up breaking hearts, as one can guess with simply but the verb, it's not the best feeling.

It's quite cold out in Derbyshire, well it's always cold in England but it's much colder in the winter . "Dad can you turn the heating on, please?" I ask.

"Are you nervous?" Asks mum, looking back at me in the car.

"What?" I start to laugh. "Why would I be nervous?"

"Because this is the first time you're leaving the house for something other than work." She reaches for my hand. "Try and have a good time, talk to people, don't hide darling."

"I have gone out with my friends multiple times, just because I don't attend your dinners does not mean I'm not socialising!" It is a half truth. "I won't hide, for goodness sake's! ." This one, probably closer to a lie, nevertheless I try my best to mean it, as there really shouldn't be a problem. Most likely the case is there will be people who I won't know, and will make sure never to see again.

Chatsworth House. Downton Abbey. A Dream House. It is the sole reason that I'm coming, I mean truly, is there any reason anyone would turn down the chance to see the place where the magic of Downton was made? No. I did not think so.

As we approach the castle, I notice it looks smaller in real life, maybe it's the angle that they film it at that makes it look so much bigger than it really is, still a beauty though. Matthew, my darling, my love, I want to say but I keep quiet, no need to embarrass myself just yet, but oh is my fangirling heart about to die. I am dead, I am dead. I repeat Madeline's heart has been yeeted to Jupiter.

"And who might this lovely lady be?" Asks the blonde haired lady in front of me as we enter the doors of heaven.

"Oh sorry, hello!" I say, a tad too loudly, "Madeline, or Maddie, sorry I'm just over the moon that I'm here."

"Big Downton fan I presume?" The lady asks, with not a very excited expression on her wrinkled old face, which by the way I'm pointing out as I can sense her  making me feel like a 12 year old screaming over One Direction, plus I am petty.

"Yes, but I'm mature enough to know not to take any photos, no worries there!" I say, this time with a little less enthusiasm. But I wasn't about to let her ruin one of the best parties, if not the best party I will ever attend to.

Must mention, the amount of elderly people dressed in suits with absolutely no red plastic cups in their hands along with no sight of cheap beer. Thankfully not that kind of party. Though you probably already knew that.

"Darling why don't you go and hang with Mrs Lamberts daughters?" My mother asks.

I look over to the supposed daughters and my eyes meet with two young women that appear to be in their forties. "Mother..." I take a moment. "I will!" I lie through my teeth.