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Post by Sorcha on Feb 8, 2008 9:53:02 GMT -5
*Sorcha wore a new, but plain workdress in blue fabric and a clean apron with her hair in a sedate single braid down her back and tied with a blue ribbon as she brushed Madame de Winter's hair gently.*
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Post by Micaela on Feb 8, 2008 9:55:46 GMT -5
*Micaela bit her lip and read over a guest list for their costume ball later that summer, glaring at it as if it had offended her.*
"No, that won't do at all, the Duchess D'Urberville despises Mr. Hackney, but Ms. Blanchard won't come unless he does and if she doesn't come her whole bloody family stays away in solidarity... urgh, I hate society people." *She mumbled to herself, twisting one lock of still-golden hair around her finger. Well, ash blonde, but whatever.*
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Post by Sorcha on Feb 8, 2008 10:01:27 GMT -5
*Sorcha furrowed her brow.*
"Beggin' yer pardon, Missus de Winter--but are ye quite alright?"
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Post by Micaela on Feb 8, 2008 12:22:11 GMT -5
*She smiled blandly.*
"I'm fine, I suppose. It happens every year--the guest list for the ball is more complicated than deriving the quadratic formula, but I hate to have people help." *She frowned, shaking her head and breathing out.* "Smartest thing my parents ever did was make sure I didn't get raised spoiled. If I'd have acted anything like that little slip of a Duchess... well, it wouldn't have been pretty." *She chuckled a little towards the end, thinking of her mother .*
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Post by Sorcha on Feb 8, 2008 12:45:48 GMT -5
*Sorcha smiled faintly. All she knew of parties was the impromptu harvest-time gatherings of the staff in the servants hall for dancing and music, cake for the children and a drop of wine, perhaps, for the adults. Liam had spoken of the balls in years past, expressing a distaste for the starched-up clothes he was fussed into during the day and how he was carted off to bed before any of the real fun started.*
"I'm certain ye'll manage it just fine, Missus de Winter. Ye've a head for figurin' things."
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Post by Micaela on Feb 8, 2008 17:34:36 GMT -5
*She chuckled.*
"You should have seen me organizing my first ball... it was before Liam was born. Dear God, I was a wreck. The ball came together, but everything took practice... for a while I almost wished I was one of those ninny-headed society girls, because if nothing else they'd been trained to organize parties."
*Then, of course, she had reminded herself that Maxim had married her knowing full well she wasn't one, and had gone back to task. That New Year's ball... it had been one hell of a planning period.*
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Post by Sorcha on Feb 8, 2008 17:43:02 GMT -5
"Aye but what good are such girls to the world, indeed?" *muttered Sorcha.* "Can't bake a loaf or hush a babe or sew a good, strong stitch, when it comes to it."
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Post by Micaela on Feb 8, 2008 17:48:54 GMT -5
*She smiled.*
"Exactly. Now I think about it, those've been more useful to me than any screen-covering training or skill with hairpins. Other than picking locks, that is. Now that's a skill you can use."
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Post by Sorcha on Feb 8, 2008 17:56:08 GMT -5
"How does one do it?" *asked Sorcha curiously. Despite her mother's rigorously ingrained paranoia and ruthless respect for The Family, Sorcha felt safe around Micaela, despite, or perhaps because of...everything.*
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Post by Micaela on Feb 8, 2008 18:01:10 GMT -5
"It's difficult to explain... my cousin Patrick taught me when he was thirteen and I nine, and we were spending a lazy afternoon about the farm."
*She chuckled.* "Did you hear about the fit I pitched when Liam was born? Everyone was insisting I get a wet nurse, and here I was, still loopy from the birth and the sickness--I almost died giving birth both times, but that's another story--and I stood up on the bed and screamed like a banshee that I didn't intend on letting another woman raise my son." *She smiled a little sadly, thinking of when Liam had been a baby.* "I was the one waking up in the night and feeding him or rocking him and singing to him, and I think it gave them all a bit of shell-shock. The last time a de Winter raised her own son was back in the thirteenth century, evidently."
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Post by Sorcha on Feb 8, 2008 18:03:52 GMT -5
*Sorcha nodded, but said nothing, a crimson stain spreading hotly across her cheeks and down her neck.*
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Post by Micaela on Feb 8, 2008 18:09:16 GMT -5
*Micaela knew exactly what she was all modest about and nearly laughed. But didn't. She sang softly under her breath as Sorcha brushed through her long hair.*
If you find it's me you're missing, If you're hoping I'll return, To your thoughts I'll soon be list'ning, In the road I'll stop and turn. Then the wind will set me racing As my journey nears its end, And the path I'll be retracing When I'm homeward bound again.
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Post by Sorcha on Feb 8, 2008 18:11:34 GMT -5
*Sorcha finished brushing Micaela's hair and set the brush down with a clatter upon the dressing table, her hands shaking almost imperceptibly.*
"Will that be all, Missus de Winter?"
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Post by Micaela on Feb 8, 2008 18:12:35 GMT -5
"For now, Sorcha. Thank you." *She said, nodding and twisting the hair up, looking at it from another angle and placing a few hairpins to keep it generally in place for the day.*
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Post by Sorcha on Feb 8, 2008 18:14:57 GMT -5
*Sorcha turned and quickly left, making her way to her small room in the servant's quarters of the big house. For the first time she had her own private space, but she found herself missing her brothers, her sisters, and her Mam and Da. She took up some material from her sewing basket and began to work on mending a pair of Danny's little trousers, waiting until Mrs de Winter should call upon her again.*
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