𝑰𝑵𝑲 • 𝑻𝒆𝒘𝒌𝒆𝒔𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒚 / 𝑳𝒐𝒖𝒊𝒔 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒈𝒆

Real Life

6 months ago

"All he does is sit around the house and read those silly little books about plants and flowers and the sorts."

Tewkesbury lay comfortably along the antique decorative chaise lounge, his legs crossed at the ankles and one arm resting against his nape, behind his head. A book on botany in his other hand concealing his face, and along with it his annoyance, from his grandmother. At some point in the past hour, she and his mother, Lady Tewkesbury had struck up a conversation of which he was the subject. It was almost as if they didn't know he was in the room with them, but of course, they did.

"He ought to do something more productive; read a book on politics or history, otherwise he'd be better off outside doing some hard work. It would serve him well to get his hands dirty for once, see how the world works and what not." The older woman looked over at him as she spoke, the disapproval lacing her words, doing absolutely nothing to affect his posture as he simply could not care any less.

"Well I've tried to get him into sports but he just won't have it." His mother was exasperated, confused as to what she was supposed to do with her son.

"We've tried him on the horses but it didn't suit him very well. Oh! And then of course there was the art, but that just seemed to bore him and I don't understand because it's not like he does nothing; he's alway disappearing, going off to god knows where to do god knows what." Her arms were animated, swirling around in front of her, as if searching for an answer.

"Child, what is it that you do all day?" His grandmother, now speaking directly to him, inquired.

Tewkesbury thought for a moment, reflecting on his day to day schedule. Wake up, wait for Florence to be done with chores, Read, wait some more, and then just, spend time with Florence. One thing the manor had managed to remain for decades was practically silent and devoid of any fun, which meant that it was up to the two of them to make their own lives interesting. The truth being that neither would be able to do so without the other, and for that reason, among many others, they chose to designate as much time as possible to spend together.

Sometimes they'd wreak havoc, out of sight of the boy's family of course, or they would just spend time alone, together. Away from everything that made them feel like themselves, everything that could define them and make them appear to be anything other than what they saw each other as. Just a boy, and just a girl.

"I read grandmother, alone."

Suddenly a knock sounded at the door, and upon permission to enter being granted, The young girl carried tea into the parlor. At this, Tewkesbury finally lowered his reading and decided to participate in the conversation between the ladies, the topic of which once again shifted towards himself at his presence.

Meanwhile, Florence very successfully made herself invisible, the only person seeming to acknowledge her at all being the boy. She placed the tray down atop one of the desks and began serving her audience, and despite her conscience telling her not to, listening in on their exchange.

"Why, I think it's about time he marries. He's a handsome young man and I'm sure we could find a nice girl for him. He's almost 18, he'll be needing a companion soon." The dowager made her intentions clear; she wanted the boy married.

Tewkesbury was listening intently, and yet his eyes lay elsewhere. Stuck to the girl's back as she carefully poured the tea into three porcelain cups trimmed with gold.

"Well we'll have to find someone suitable. She'll need to be a lady, educated, finished, of course. And we'll need to make sure she's pure; we can't have him marrying someone loose."

"Oh I wound't dream of it!" Her face portrayed shock, and she looked almost ill. Sickened by the thought of her grandson, someone of her blood, wedding anyone she deemed less than perfect.

"And what if I want to marry someone of my choosing... say, a commoner?" This was the first time she had heard him speak since entering the room, and his words almost made her drop the teapot she held delicately in her fingers. Her eyes widened briefly but she managed to compose herself and return to the task at hand.

"Don't be silly boy. You don't belong with those kinds of people."

Those kinds of people

The words echoed in Florence's head, bouncing around in her skull, trying to find some proof of worth, of value.

"And you will marry. This family must carry on, meaning children. But don't worry about that, you'll barely have to do a thing." His grandmother reached over to take his hand in hers, clasping it softly, a confident smile on her face.

Florence was glad that was over. She knew it already, it rarely left her mind, she didn't need someone else telling her that he was out of reach. He's not for you, stop torturing yourself. She brought over the teacups, balancing each one on a saucer accompanied by a dainty silver teaspoon.

"We won't have you handing away the estate to some outsider, you'll need children to inherit the family wealth." She was stern in her manner, turning to the boy's mother to speak.

"I've told him this time and time again, it's almost as if it goes in one ear and out the other." The woman nodded in absolute agreement and Tewkesbury simply hummed.

"Everyone marries eventually darling." His mother spoke to him, pushing him towards his grandmothers wishes. "I don't want you ending up alone." She was soft, her eyebrows raised slightly, shooting a sweet smile in his direction.

"Yes mother." Tewkesbury's eyes remained on Florence, now observing her face as she placed two sugars into his teacup. He grinned at the fact that she always knew what he wanted. She did everything in her power to avoid his gaze, knowing full well that he would break her if she did.

While the party carefully sipped their drinks, pinkies raised and lips pursed, she quietly shuffled back to the desk and picked up her tray, curtsying politely and making her way to the door. Her feet carried her their swiftly and just as she was about to make her exit, she heard herself being called. Not by name.

"Girl." Florence knew the dowager was referring to her; who else could it be? Tewkesbury's hair had gotten quite long recently but even so, he was very clearly a boy. She winced, her face scrunching up rapidly as not to be noticed before spinning around to face the voice.

"Yes m'Lady, how may I help you?" A smile plastered itself onto her face, her hands clasping together in front of her, ready to accept any orders.

"When will you marry?" The old woman glanced briefly at her grandson, clearly trying to prove a point. She was expecting a short answer, possibly even just a number, age, or date. But unfortunately, Florence wasn't able to give her what she wanted. Slightly taken aback by the extremely personal inquiry, she composed herself before replying.

"My Lord, Ladies, I have no current intention to marry." She smiled at them before excusing herself. To her surprise, Tewkesbury seemed disappointed by her answer, his face dropping at her words. She thought he would appreciate her taking his side against his grandmother but apparently not. She made her way out of the parlor and headed down the stairs, back to the kitchen to continue her duties.

"Well she'll never find a husband with that attitude. Poor girl's going to end up a spinster." The dowager sighed and shook her head, returning her focus to the drink in her hands. She clicked her tongue in disapproval, in pity.

Tewkesbury decided it best to remain quiet, sipping at his tea and pondering on the conversation he'd just had. Images of the future which had been painted for him flashed across his mind. He didn't like it one bit, it looked plain and bare. Ordinary. The boy wished for romance, and excitement. Above all else he wished for love. But he knew he'd have to compromise, and the one thing both he and Florence hauled around with them everywhere they went was the notion that marriage is inevitable.