The Earl's Keeper

TwentyOne - Philosophy in the Bedroom

Good god, I was wrapped up in my plush baby blue blanket like a Christmas bauble, with my knees up and my tea in hand, sipping and enjoying a chill time, when I damn near choked my tonsils out my nose, along with the tea too, tf life, saw me relaxing a little too much huh! -_-
Probably come back and edit this a million times, but as of now, cbaaaaaa its SO l o n g, but enjoy!

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The Western ball was at the end of the week, falling on the Saturday. There were three more days left to prepare, and you could feel the excitement in the air. The rich and famous of the elite families were moving into their London homes, migrating in from the countryside, ready for the three month stay. Young women from across the city were gathering to be introduced into their first season, or return for another. Mother hens were clucking in preparation overdrive, fussing over their broods. Young bachelors newly legible for marriage, and well seasoned men like George, too. The latter of which were unmarried for a reason, as they did not wish to be, but alas, the obligations of the aristocrats lay with continuing the bloodlines and securing beneficial matches. An age old tradition that had not lost its tenacity and ferocity in the husband-hunt, it could become quite political at times and this year was no different.

The next morning, Mia took her breakfast in her room, a married woman's prerogative, luckily for her. She was not sure when she had actually fallen asleep last night, but was glad of it, as nothing made time pass slower, than counting it go by. When she had woken, William was already gone. Which was a surprise, seeing as she rose with the dawn, although on this day, her mind woke her later. Fatigued from the events of last night, she still felt somewhat drained and understandably grumpy.

Gerty spent the morning ensuring the two ladies of the household would have no meeting whatsoever. Not until Mia was fully in control of her faculties and ready to apologise for her vulgarity, and when Bethany had unruffled her feathers and was ready to accept it, and in return, confess to her own meddlesome crimes. Gerty was not blind to the habit the lady had of causing mischief. Till then, they were kept separate with a military precision and execution. Nancy attended to Mia's menstrual cycle needs, including a hot compress for the stomach cramps, some herbal teas in attempt to relieve the pain and even sate some cravings. She was aware something had happened during the short time Mia and Gerty had left the house. What that was exactly, she was not told, but could only guess from the somber silence and bristling tension, that it wasn't anything good.

The Countess had refused to let her maid wash her bloodied garments, and spent the morning doing it herself, as she had since the very first time it had started outside of the manor, all those years ago. She was both mortified by how red her own blood seemed that day, and that Nancy had so willingly stepped up to her obligations as a maid. The girl was made of stern stuff. But it felt too intimate and wrong to force the girl to wash her soiled clothes, menstrual cycle blood seemed a tad too overboard, personal house staff or not.

Once she had finished washing and letting the garments dry, she hung them up in the laundry room, located at the back of the house. Mia took retreat in the larger study in the south wing of the house, that doubled as a library of sorts. It was not the private, smaller study that Charles had claimed as his own, and so she would not be disturbed or intruding on his privacy. The colour scheme was predominantly darker hues of burgundy and tawny beige that somehow worked with gold trimmings here and there on the wall details, mantels and wooden features. Mia found it a very old fashioned in style and felt like she was in a very archaic museum hall. Shelves lined the left side of the room from floor to ceiling, housing a collection of modern arts, philosophy and ethics, non-fiction pieces and a small row of romance. A circle of winged backed armchairs sat gathered beneath the far window to the left near the shelves, and a deep velvet chaise in front of the fireplace to the right. Long, floor length drapes in burgundy gave the room a mellow and romantic vibe. Sunlight filtered in bright and strong, beams that pierced through the silence of the room in an unforgiving display of dancing gold.