Indulging a Dreamer

A single eyebrow rose as Ian explained his point of view with regards to his place in the family. Isobel hadn't known that he'd been harboring such thoughts, and her initial reaction was a mixture of surprise and sadness to hear it. She - and from her perspective the whole family - operated under the philosophy that despite their noble birth, they were close with the people, they didn't pull rank often, they were considerate and real unlike the potential cold and political war attitudes she knew existed elsewhere. Further, being a Cameron, she'd never considered him lesser simply because he wasn't Niall's son. She supposed it was true that from a perspective of inheritance and immediate value in marriage, perhaps he was lower on the totem pole than her brothers, but that had never meant he was unimportant and certainly not one with the "common people".

"Is that what uncle Diarmad and aunt (she has no given name*) have told you?" She said, her tone now including disappointment and gentleness. She was looking at him with intent, to see how deeply he believed this.

He too, it seemed, sensed that his words had gone a direction he hadn't expected in her rather brief answer. "That's a nice way to see it," she agreed to drop the subject, but smiled to hear such a positive view. She too hoped for a match that was meant to be, in her case a fairytale ending preferably, though she was ready for it to be less agreeable.

A twitch of a smile came to her lips and a laugh just as easy was heard to his tease, but she watched as he moved to indulge her. Truly, she didn't see it as her commanding and him obeying, and rather she prodding him in a certain direction. She tilted her head this way and that to judge for herself how she thought the boots worked on his feet. To hear Ian's next words, though, she laughed more merrily still.

"Oh Ian, you can be at ease, I was only kidding at your expense," she explained, noticing his discomfort by body language, tone and words. She had figured he wasn't so strongly interested in shopping, but then she hadn't really asked him to come with her on the basis of his interest rather than her own. "Well, I do intend to get something nice, yes, but I haven't settled on what. Any suggestions?" She asked him.

She figured he'd remove the boots at this point, and the shop keeper was looking at her for a sign of what he should do; whether he should bring them a new pair, take this one away, or be ready to tender a sale. "Once we have you some footwear, I did want to go see some of the custom kitchen and home items store I've heard of. Apparently they paint and otherwise craft a variety of items for the home and kitchen. I think mother might like that," she was pensive. "Do you think aunt (her name again*) would take offense if I brought her a gift?"

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Ian Cameron

As Ian admitted to her that he'd not in fact been groomed into this thinking, but instead had come to it of his own, Isobel felt a disappointment. Not so much in him for thinking the way he did, but in herself and her immediate family, for having allowed it to happen. To know, however, that she was the first that he'd spoken to about it, warmed her. She thought that perhaps she could help, put him at ease somewhat. "I'm sorry Ian, I never realized that you thought this way. You are Cameron of blood just as much as the rest of us. We depend on you for our help and support just as I hope you could depend on us, too." She said, genuinely, a look of concern to her face. After a moment of hesitation, she added a question. "Are you saying that you feel excluded from what wealth we have?"

She chuckled lightly as he teased her, alleviating most of her worry. Soon thereafter he was indulging her by commenting on the boots, and she nodded to his assessment. Yes, they would be warm. And should the men go hunting or do much outdoors activity during the winter to come, he'd be well prepared for whatever the weather was like in Bordelaix at that time. This same line of thinking applied to the idea of gloves he suggested. "Hmm, yes, gloves. Perhaps a nice silk pair to match an evening gown. Or a warmer pair, for the coming winter months. Hmm."

At least, it didn't sound like this new destination was as tedious to her cousin, and she was glad for that. She made a motion to the shop keep to prepare the pair for sale, and that they would not be taking the other pairs he'd brought out. Isobel gave a smile as she thought of her aunt, hopefully to be warmed by the new addition to her household, a gift from her niece. With Ian's help, perhaps she'd find something that her aunt didn't already have, something useful.

"Good, that's the plan then!" She got up and, taking her purse of coins, headed to the back of the shop where the man had readied the boots in a decorative box. The price was perhaps a bit heftier than she thought the boots to be worth, but she considered it the wage increase for the location. Hopefully, this sale would help the merchant and his family, though she ignored his financial situation.

"Alright, all set." She beamed at Ian and came to take his arm once more while handing him the box. They set off at a leisurely pace down the street. She was trying to get her bearings, but Isobel had only seen the store in passing and couldn't be certain how to get back. "I think it's this way. I think," she admitted, feeling a bit goofy. She wasn't in any hurry, and was set to enjoy the morning with Ian regardless.

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Ian Cameron

Isobel listened as Ian explained what was going on in his head, his thoughts of late. This line of conversation had her quite distressed and she was eager to make some understanding of it all. The way he said "if" he ever got the chance to marry made her rather sad, especially as she herself dreamed of a decent match, a bright future, children, grandchildren even if she could. She shook her head to his conclusion, though, and felt the need to interject.

"Alright, so you might not be the next Count of Marlowe, but that isn't the only thing of worth in our family, and for that you could be of fifth string and still be just as worthy. I won't be ruling a castle any time soon either," she said, lightening her tone for a moment to try a smile at him, willing her enthusiasm to Ian. "Any Lord worth our time would realize that a marriage to our House, whether it be you or me, would bring with it the friendship of our family, businesses, lands."

And then for his answer to her follow-up question, she was even more curious and saddened to hear it. Though her impulse was first to challenge the fact that he was "just" a cousin, she found a different position instead. "How would you have it different? What would be more satisfying to you?" Her tone was gentle, curious. She wasn't trying to belittle him or be sarcastic, rather she wanted to hear his thoughts, if he'd even considered it. Maybe he felt a loss without really knowing what it was that he was missing. If he did know what he wanted, maybe she could help.

"I like the way you think," she laughed, as he suggested multiple pairs might just be the answer. Isobel wasn't vain but she was interested in fashion, at least to a periphery amount. She had nothing on many of Ladies in the Capital, but she liked to have nice clothing.

"Hmm," Isobel made a sound, considering that while he suggested an opposite direction, he said so with an expression she was suspicious of. "Alright. I'm no good at directions, after you," she admitted, frowning but laughing lightly. She considered it a man's skill to know where to go, to lead. She had no problem with following, at least those honorable men as those in her family.

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Ian Cameron

Isobel tried to understand his point of view and why he saw himself as such a sour grape, something with lesser worth. She didn’t know how he meant himself as odd, but if he meant his interest in gardens… well she didn’t think it was anything to be ashamed of. If anything, she would think a Lady might enjoy a man who was able to groom beautiful flowers to gift her, perhaps keep a rather green and lively home, someone who would not be off to war or some other bloody and dangerous battle.

The way they spoke of the difference in value based on the genders made Isobel feel again as property. Truly, she was, she was her father’s valuable possession until such a time as he arranged a marriage for her, at which point she would shine for another man’s name and in time their children. She yearned to have children, but also when she considered it so plainly the whole notion scared her. She did not think she was only a bargaining chip, but at moments she was reminded that it was what it came down to.

Ignoring the fist in her stomach, she thought to comment where she felt more comfortable. “It is unfair of you to presume that the noble Ladies would think poorly of you. How are they to prove you wrong if you see yourself that way? More, how are they expected to see your strengths if you do not showcase them?” She believed that confidence was attractive, a feature that men and women alike sought.

She gave him a patient and bittersweet smile. It was rather clear that at least at this juncture she would fail to convince him to sell himself as much more valuable. “Well I think that Marlowe would be happy with that.” Maybe some other interests would be enjoyed also, but she truly did not think that the people of their city and surroundings expected anything in particular of them. At least, not all of them.

Isobel’s smile was firmly in place once more as she looped her arm around his, resting her hand on the top of his arm. “How very poetic, Ian,” she complimented him as he spoke, a hint of laughter along her lips. “Is there anything you might want to do while we are out?”

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Ian Cameron

Isobel inclined her head to admit defeat as he explained how, being a man, he could not possibly think as a woman. She was pleased to hear, however, that he had in fact been showcasing himself. That Ian spent his time in the gardens did not surprise the red-head, but his last comment made her laugh. "Hardly, cousin, you are still too well dressed. Besides, does the capital not have gardens worth of envy?" She figured that there were worse things to be wrongfully associated with.

A small moment of irritation came into her mind, though not a ripple of it passed through her face. It seemed to her that Ian was sulking, making this difficult, while she was trying to be nothing less than understanding and encouraging. "Happy to appreciate a person not a title. I think our people prefer that we are not ruling from our high tower so to speak. We use our hands. We do things. In that way, we're all just... people." Isobel finished off with a shrug. If it didn't make sense at this point, she was going to drop her attempts at this topic.

"Well, I'm certain that there will be something to fit that criteria here somewhere," she suggested with cheer. "I can only imagine the traffic through the capital, and the competition between the merchants... might be that something new is the only thing to catch someone's eye. Anyways," she shook her head, feeling she was getting all too poetic. "You are paying attention to where we're going still, right?" Isobel gave a gentle laugh, tugging on his arm.

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Ian Cameron