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EPISODE 8: AFTER THE RAIN CHAPTER 25. WAITING AND THINGS
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The fastest courtship upon record occurred during the markedly wet season of 1804, when Miss Mary Leopold secured a betrothal over a plate of sugared almonds and licorice in just four and a half minutes. Of course, Miss Leopold and her new husband would leave London mere hours after their wedding. Reason unknown. Of all that I have imparted to you, dear reader, there is but one bit of wisdom you must heed most. One can never know the truth of a marriage hiding behind closed doors.
Beware indeed, blushing newlyweds. You know not the future that awaits. Will there be hardship... or indignity? Or will one's future see the rarest accomplishment of all, a true love match? As for which of these fates await the eager matches of the season of 1813, only two things will tell... time, and, as always, this author.
I DROP DOWN ON the bed, letting out a breath.
"That was..." I breath out. "Amazing."
"Why, thank you." Louis says, making me chuckle, and turn to look at him.
But, my smile drops, as I look at the clock behind him.
"Oh, my God!" I yell, jumping out of the bed. "Louis! We're going to be late!"
"Late?" He questions, his eyebrows furrowing, as he sees me pulling on my petticoat, my back to him. I pick up the corset, pulling it over my arms. "Late for what?"
I turn around, looking at him in disbelief.
"Do not tell me you forgot!" I tell him. "Fran is coming home today, and all of us needed to be there."
"Oh, that." He realizes. "Yeah, I forgot about that."
"So, could you please, stop sitting there, and help me tie this bloody thing?" I tell him, as he does what I say.
"You know, you look so alluring when you are so assertive." He tells me, as he pulls me into him by the strings of the corset and I can hear his smirk.
"Louis, Daring, I love you." I tell him, turning around. "But, now is not the time."
"Well, we are already late." He tells me, smirking, as he pulls him chin towards him.
"Fran could already be there-" I get cut off, as our lips meet, and I forget all about where I'm supposed to be. "Fran can wait." I breath out, as I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him towards me.
"OH, THERE YOU ARE, Diana, Louis." Mama greets, as we walk into the living, where Mama, all of my siblings, the Duke, and Penelope were. "What on earth made you so late."
I bite my lip, seriously doubting she wanted to here the truth.
"We were doing..." I give Louisa side look, to see he was trying to hide his smirk. "Things." I finish, as I look around the room for Fran, seeing her getting up from her piano seat, and making her way towards us. "Fran, so good to see you again. I missed you."
"I missed you, too, Sister." She replies, smiling as we hug. She, then, turns to Louis. "Your Majesty."
"Oh, no, please call me Louis." Louis tells her, returning the smile.
"I am sorry, I could not attend the wedding." She tells us.
"I assure you, you were dearly missed." I reply.
The final ball of any season is distinguished by one of two things, anticipation... or dread. For, while those who have been successful in the year's marriage market look forward to flaunting their perfect, joyous unions... others shudder at the thought of spending one last night before the discerning eyes of the ton. As they know, indeed, just what the evening signifies, that their time is officially up. And yet, to those who may still find themselves out of both choices and hope, fear not. For who knows when and where one's fortunes may change?
