A Season in Paris
Jul 16, 2008 12:37:45 GMT -5
Post by Ellie de Winter on Jul 16, 2008 12:37:45 GMT -5
*Nearly a year after Tony had left Manderley, Ellie was in Paris. But she wasn't accompanying her mother on a shopping trip or a visit to friends this time; it had been decided that she would have a Season. Clothes had been ordered, seamstresses had come down from London to fit the 17-year-old for them; the finest lodgings had been arranged and they would stay for half of the spring and through midsummer. They would punctuate this period with occasional returns home (it was only a train and a boat away), with the possible additions of any new friends Ellie might make.*
*Eschewing London because of her own disastrous coming-out there, Micaela had chosen Paris for her daughter's first Season because she was better-acquainted with the vibrant French society than the English, therefore making it easier to introduce her daughter. Besides, the weather was better in France. So they installed themselves in a comfortable flat in the most fashionable area of Paris (Micaela reasoned that with only herself, Ellie, and a maid, they didn't need anything larger) and immediately began receiving invitations to important balls, tea parties, picnics, charity events, and other engagements of the like.*
*People flooded their drawing room, claiming acquaintance by relation or by mutual friend. As charmed as Ellie was by all the attention for the first few days, by the second week she was complaining of a megrim when callers showed up, or claiming that they were not At Home. She'd apparently realized that everyone wanted a glimpse of the heiress who'd been essentially kept down in the country her entire life.*
*She'd learned the proper social graces in record time (as it turned out she could really do something if she set her mind to it), and the dances, but there remained about her a charming naivete that made her seem too young to be a debutante. She was no longer, however, the hoyden that she'd been a year ago, but quieter, and softer around the edges (the last of her physical coltish awkwardness had been rounded as she filled out).*
*It was through these events that she found her swan-disguised self at a masked ball at the home of an older Duc, dancing with his son (dressed as a very chubby lion with a very wilty mane), who kept trodding on her toes. She smiled sweetly, if a little helplessly, at him, wishing more than anything that she could be back at home. She failed at the whole coquette thing, and was certainly no Scarlett O'Hara. To see the truly charming side of Ellie, one had to see her at home, which nobody was likely to do, as she wasn't close enough with anyone yet to ask them home.*
((Feel free, anyone, to pop in.))
*Eschewing London because of her own disastrous coming-out there, Micaela had chosen Paris for her daughter's first Season because she was better-acquainted with the vibrant French society than the English, therefore making it easier to introduce her daughter. Besides, the weather was better in France. So they installed themselves in a comfortable flat in the most fashionable area of Paris (Micaela reasoned that with only herself, Ellie, and a maid, they didn't need anything larger) and immediately began receiving invitations to important balls, tea parties, picnics, charity events, and other engagements of the like.*
*People flooded their drawing room, claiming acquaintance by relation or by mutual friend. As charmed as Ellie was by all the attention for the first few days, by the second week she was complaining of a megrim when callers showed up, or claiming that they were not At Home. She'd apparently realized that everyone wanted a glimpse of the heiress who'd been essentially kept down in the country her entire life.*
*She'd learned the proper social graces in record time (as it turned out she could really do something if she set her mind to it), and the dances, but there remained about her a charming naivete that made her seem too young to be a debutante. She was no longer, however, the hoyden that she'd been a year ago, but quieter, and softer around the edges (the last of her physical coltish awkwardness had been rounded as she filled out).*
*It was through these events that she found her swan-disguised self at a masked ball at the home of an older Duc, dancing with his son (dressed as a very chubby lion with a very wilty mane), who kept trodding on her toes. She smiled sweetly, if a little helplessly, at him, wishing more than anything that she could be back at home. She failed at the whole coquette thing, and was certainly no Scarlett O'Hara. To see the truly charming side of Ellie, one had to see her at home, which nobody was likely to do, as she wasn't close enough with anyone yet to ask them home.*
((Feel free, anyone, to pop in.))