AmandaAce
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- May 9, 2004
- Posts
- 610
The door swung open with a bang and Isobel nearly tumbled out of bed. She sat up, shading her eyes against the sunlight that streamed in through the now open blinds.
“What?” she said blearily. Margaret, the maid, clucked at her disapprovingly as she bustled around the room.
“It's nearly nine of the clock, Miss,” Margaret pronounced. Her accent was so thick as to be nearly incomprehensible. Isobel squinted at her for a moment before nodding slowly.
“It's the day of Lord Beverly's party, Miss,” the maid continued, looking at Isobel expectantly. Isobel paused, deciphering the message. Lord Beverly's party.
“Oh!” Isobel shouted. “I forgot.” Margaret rolled her eyes and stepped out of the way as Isobel leapt out of bed, her auburn hair flying behind her like a flag.
“Miss Jane has already gone, Miss,” Margaret said, as Isobel slammed open the bedroom door.
“What?” Isobel turned. “We were supposed to go to the shop together,” she said. Margaret shrugged. “Well, how am I to get there?” She stopped for a moment, and threw her nightdress over her head and onto the floor. Margaret picked it up silently, ignoring Isobel's sudden nakedness. She reached behind her and closed the bedroom door.
“Miss Jane said to --” Margaret began, but Isobel hushed her.
“Perhaps Mr. Gregory will let me take his coach,” she speculated of their neighbor. Margaret picked up the pitcher she'd brought in and began to fill the basin. Isobel snatched the cloth from her. “Go get my grey, will you?” she said. Margaret nodded and ducked into the closet.
Isobel stared into the small mirror for a moment. “But first!” she called. The maid came back from the closet, her arms full of grey silk. “First tell Edgar to call on Mr. Gregory and ask about the coach! Hurry! I have to go pick up my dress for the party.” Margaret laid the grey silk carefully on a chair and left the room. Isobel turned back to the mirror and began slowly and methodically washing her face and brushing her hair.
Jane had left without her. She probably intended for Isobel to miss her, to not be able to pick up her dress. To have Isobel turn up to Lord Beverly's party in last month's dress, while Jane wore her new pink. Certainly Jane was jealous of her --- tall, gangly, and mousy, she certainly bore no family resemblance to Isobel, compact and delicate, with her riot of auburn hair.
Isobel snorted to herself. Why would there be any family resemblance? Jane wasn't really her cousin, after all. Jane thought she was, which was really all that mattered.
Margaret bustled back in and Isobel, caught up in the flurry of dressing, forgot about Jane.
An hour later, Isobel was being helped into Mr. Gregory's carriage, her light grey suit showing off her complexion to advantage. The footman closed the door and she sat back against the padded seat, closing her eyes in satisfaction as they took off into town.
“What?” she said blearily. Margaret, the maid, clucked at her disapprovingly as she bustled around the room.
“It's nearly nine of the clock, Miss,” Margaret pronounced. Her accent was so thick as to be nearly incomprehensible. Isobel squinted at her for a moment before nodding slowly.
“It's the day of Lord Beverly's party, Miss,” the maid continued, looking at Isobel expectantly. Isobel paused, deciphering the message. Lord Beverly's party.
“Oh!” Isobel shouted. “I forgot.” Margaret rolled her eyes and stepped out of the way as Isobel leapt out of bed, her auburn hair flying behind her like a flag.
“Miss Jane has already gone, Miss,” Margaret said, as Isobel slammed open the bedroom door.
“What?” Isobel turned. “We were supposed to go to the shop together,” she said. Margaret shrugged. “Well, how am I to get there?” She stopped for a moment, and threw her nightdress over her head and onto the floor. Margaret picked it up silently, ignoring Isobel's sudden nakedness. She reached behind her and closed the bedroom door.
“Miss Jane said to --” Margaret began, but Isobel hushed her.
“Perhaps Mr. Gregory will let me take his coach,” she speculated of their neighbor. Margaret picked up the pitcher she'd brought in and began to fill the basin. Isobel snatched the cloth from her. “Go get my grey, will you?” she said. Margaret nodded and ducked into the closet.
Isobel stared into the small mirror for a moment. “But first!” she called. The maid came back from the closet, her arms full of grey silk. “First tell Edgar to call on Mr. Gregory and ask about the coach! Hurry! I have to go pick up my dress for the party.” Margaret laid the grey silk carefully on a chair and left the room. Isobel turned back to the mirror and began slowly and methodically washing her face and brushing her hair.
Jane had left without her. She probably intended for Isobel to miss her, to not be able to pick up her dress. To have Isobel turn up to Lord Beverly's party in last month's dress, while Jane wore her new pink. Certainly Jane was jealous of her --- tall, gangly, and mousy, she certainly bore no family resemblance to Isobel, compact and delicate, with her riot of auburn hair.
Isobel snorted to herself. Why would there be any family resemblance? Jane wasn't really her cousin, after all. Jane thought she was, which was really all that mattered.
Margaret bustled back in and Isobel, caught up in the flurry of dressing, forgot about Jane.
An hour later, Isobel was being helped into Mr. Gregory's carriage, her light grey suit showing off her complexion to advantage. The footman closed the door and she sat back against the padded seat, closing her eyes in satisfaction as they took off into town.
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