Chapter 3: Sometimes, It Just Happens
Lord Westerly's property stretched countless acres, where a river stretched through a mini forest and he owned a series of surfs and their farms. The sun always rose on the east, and set on the west. It was during the winter that Christabel loved her father's property best. She could sit at the window of her room and watch the sunrise, watching the sun's rays glint on the icy snow, and then watch as the wildlife slowly retreated back to their homes.
The morning after their arrival, it was here Christabel found herself. She had wrapped herself in a blanket, and was shivering happily next to the window. Slowly she took it all in, still dressed in her nightgown. Behind her the door opened.
"Lady Christabel?" the elderly woman coughed. Christabel turned, her cheeks a rosy pink colour.
"Yes?"
"Your father requests your presence at breakfast this morn."
Christabel nodded and sighed, "Yes, thank you. I will just get dressed." she smiled weakly. The elderly woman left.
Wistfully Christabel glanced back out the window, then heaved herself towards her chest. It had arrived just as she slipped between her warmed bedcovers the night before. Gingerly she poked through her dresses, selecting a deeply purple dress of modest lengths. She drew it out, inhaling the familiar scent of her home.
Since she was a child she had refused the help of her servants, until the use of more difficult womanly devices were offered to her. As she laced up the un-needed corset, she whistled. Her handmaiden arrived, already dressed with a curtsey at-hand.
"Yes, M'lady?"
"Lace up my corset, please. Not too tight, mind! I do not want to suffocate this morning."
The handmaiden nodded, and floated across the room quickly. With nimble fingers she successfully laced up Chirstabel's corset perfectly. "Is that all, M'lady?"
"Yes, thank you."
"Do you need an escort to breakfast?"
"No, thank you. I can escort myself." she smiled tightly. "But thank you."
Christabel let herself out of her room, slipping cautiously down the hall. Soon she found her way to the dining hall, which she slipped into hopefully unnoticed.
Not so much.
The room was silent when she arrived, filled with strange faces she didn't recognize. Except at the head of the table, near to the fire, where Lord Westerly, Lady Elizabeth, Huxford, and Macallister sat. Her father smiled at her, holding out a hand towards her.
"Ah, my daughter Lady Christabel. At last."
The morning after their arrival, it was here Christabel found herself. She had wrapped herself in a blanket, and was shivering happily next to the window. Slowly she took it all in, still dressed in her nightgown. Behind her the door opened.
"Lady Christabel?" the elderly woman coughed. Christabel turned, her cheeks a rosy pink colour.
"Yes?"
"Your father requests your presence at breakfast this morn."
Christabel nodded and sighed, "Yes, thank you. I will just get dressed." she smiled weakly. The elderly woman left.
Wistfully Christabel glanced back out the window, then heaved herself towards her chest. It had arrived just as she slipped between her warmed bedcovers the night before. Gingerly she poked through her dresses, selecting a deeply purple dress of modest lengths. She drew it out, inhaling the familiar scent of her home.
Since she was a child she had refused the help of her servants, until the use of more difficult womanly devices were offered to her. As she laced up the un-needed corset, she whistled. Her handmaiden arrived, already dressed with a curtsey at-hand.
"Yes, M'lady?"
"Lace up my corset, please. Not too tight, mind! I do not want to suffocate this morning."
The handmaiden nodded, and floated across the room quickly. With nimble fingers she successfully laced up Chirstabel's corset perfectly. "Is that all, M'lady?"
"Yes, thank you."
"Do you need an escort to breakfast?"
"No, thank you. I can escort myself." she smiled tightly. "But thank you."
Christabel let herself out of her room, slipping cautiously down the hall. Soon she found her way to the dining hall, which she slipped into hopefully unnoticed.
Not so much.
The room was silent when she arrived, filled with strange faces she didn't recognize. Except at the head of the table, near to the fire, where Lord Westerly, Lady Elizabeth, Huxford, and Macallister sat. Her father smiled at her, holding out a hand towards her.
"Ah, my daughter Lady Christabel. At last."
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