Society's Expectations & Too Many Complications {Finalist}

Chapter 4

"Rosalia, are you attired correctly for church?" Mother asked me as she entered my chamber. She was clothed in a modest green muslin dress with a dark green shawl and her best Sunday hat. I was dressed in the very immodest night-gown that I had fell to my bed in last night.

"Why aren't you dressed?" A shriek was heard and I rolled over, covering my ears from the terrible agony. "Rosalia Taylor, get up this very instant and dress yourself! Church begins at a sharp nine o'clock and if we miss the morning Mass, then Father Tallice will be extremely disappointed in us!"

"I feel terribly indisposed," I moaned, rubbing my eyes as I tried to rid sleep from my eyes. "Please make your excuses for me to Father Tallice; go on ahead. I cannot stir from my sick-bed."

"What a churlish girl you are!" Mother cried at me. "The only sickness that lies in you is your laziness! Come, revive yourself, we only have a small matter of ten minutes to get you dressed! Up, up, up, this very minute, or I will retrieve the smelling salts and shock you awake!"

I shot up in bed, eager to avoid an attack of the dreaded smelling salts. Those forsaken essences were the equivalent of a bucket of water; not a pleasant thing to wake up to.

"Mary! Mary!" My mother called my maid, her hands fluttering by her sides. "Oh, what am I to do with you? Whether it's ungodliness or just plain laziness, I do not know! Mary! Where is that wretched maid?"

"I am here." Mary appeared, looking prim and proper, despite my mother's stormy demeanor. "What would you bid me to do, Duchess?"

"Dress that dratted girl!"

"Up, right now, Rosalia," Mary ordered me, already picking out what I was to wear. I hopped out of bed immediately and walked straight over to her, obediently waiting.

Mother stared at me - astonished - and stalked out, muttering that she had less power than her servants over her ungrateful child. Mary's head was ensconced in my wardrobe and a few seconds later, her hand shot out, a light brown dress held between her fingers.

I took it and laid it on the bed as she readied my under-things. Being that I had only a handful of minutes, Mary had to rush me through my clothing and soon enough, I was dressed in my gown and shod in shoes. My maid had to run a brush through my hair and though, my Sunday hairstyle would usually be more elaborate, she simply did two quick braids on each side then put up the rest of my hair in a spinster-style bun.

The last addition to my apparel was a small silver cross, which hung off a delicate chain. As the necklace was attached at the back, my mother entered and seeing my formally dressed state, let out a sigh.

"Ready for Church?" she remarked, relief plain on her face. "Next time Mary, please make sure that Miss Taylor is up and ready at an appropriate time." Mary nodded and said:

"I beg your pardon, Duchess, it was a grievous mistake."

"Well, yes, improve on your duties. Come, Rosalia, we must away to Church, or we shall be late!"

I nodded and stood, following Mother out of my chamber. Before I left, I threw a look of gratitude to Mary, who curtseyed and gave me a warm smile. It was all hustle and bustle when I exited my room; servants were rushing around, barking orders here, there and everywhere. I felt slightly overwhelmed; it was normally quiet on Sundays, but here my house was resembling a circus. What on earth was brewing?

I opened my mouth to ask Mother but she quickly held up a hand, bidding me to silence. Trotting down the stairs, I saw Father waiting near the door, looking faintly bored. When he saw us, he addressed my Mother:

"Why have I been waiting here five-and-ten minutes, Lacey?"

"Your daughter had not attired herself and held us up a considerable deal," Mother explained, clearly adept at throwing the blame where it may lay.