Splish Splash

”Lord Fontaine.”

Oh, it was over – in that wonderful moment of formality the Lady Christina had shattered his illusion here. He could feel Mable’s eyes turn on him, he could sense how they narrowed and how her lips thinned as they pressed together. Some people were born noble, others were born to serve noble’s and wore graces of their own. Some were born gazing up at those with their silver spoons and watched on with nothing but jealousy and longing. But then there were those, like Mable, who were old enough to understand that even when the world changed there were always Nobles battling for a place at the top and it had brought a serious mis-trust and fear about the charming, earthly woman.

”Lord?” Her question came and Matthew winced, pausing in his place as he put the tea tray down. Everything else, the merriment and the teasing and the open scolding of his language seemed forgotten in that moment as Christina’s inability to read the situation – and her upbringing that was so well mannered and sweet – undid something between the older woman and the man she had been treating as a son. ”What does she mean by Lord?”

Matthew glanced apologetically at Christina, it was his fault, and he wasn’t blaming her in the slightest for the mishap or the explanation that came next. ”Mable, please, it’s nothing but a title.”

”You have a title? And you never thought it prudent to tell me? You braggart you!” She flushed with anger and clear embarrassment, wanting to smack him and flee from him all at once, knowing she should curtsy or bow or something, and feeling very caught out. So the woman rose from her place and stole herself away from the workshop room, taking her broom with her and sharply excusing herself into a back room. Matthew winced a second time as the door was closed and he could hear the woman’s angry mutterings from the other side.

For a moment he let the mutterings be the only sound, then, in a hope to swiftly move passed what had just happened he said; ”Shall we find something for your sister?”

~~

Christina Delamara

”I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was a secret. I’m sorry.”

She looked so upset, on the edge of tears, and he felt so annoyed with himself for making her feel in such a way. He watched the flush of her cheeks, found himself momentarily pausing to think her beautiful despite the way she saddened, and rubbed his fingers along the soft fashionable stubble at his jaw. Matthew shook his head at her, and while he wanted to reach out and take her shoulder to offer her comfort he did not feel comfortable to do that after she had so scolded him before.

”You have nothing to apologise for.” He told her, his voice firm but gentle, as he insisted upon this point. ”Honestly, I did not warn you, and the fault is my own for holding secrets from my friends- not that it was a secret, I just, never got around to telling her. I’ve known Mable for nearly five years, Lady Christina, she took me off the street when I was being chased by some men who felt I had stolen from them and cheated them from rather a lot of money – I was young, and afraid, and she hid me in that cupboard just there-“ He made a gesture, and smiled fondly. ”It never came up, who I was or that I was a Lord- not in five years- and I admit to enjoying that double lifestyle. The fact you knew none of this, is not your fault, and you must not feel sorry, for you have done nothing wrong or acted in any way to deserve such feeling.”

~~

Christina Delamara

She reached out and took his hand and his dark eyes found their way down to look at the touch of her skin against his. He saw how horrible she felt and he was annoyed at himself for letting her feel that way, so, when she squeezed his hand in that soft and tentative manner, he returned to touch appreciatively, taking her hand in his and squeezing back. His eyes danced up to meet her blue ones and he gave her a winning, warm smile.

”Ah, she’ll forgive me- she usually does. Now, let us distract you by finding something for your sister, and completing your original purpose!” He insisted, tugging her from the seat and pulling her across the room to several shelves of boxes and baskets, full of nic-nacs to look through. He took a box down, handing it to her, taking a second for himself and returning them to the table. Matthew was refusing to let her dwell on the fact she was upset, and it was good for him too.

~~

Christina Delamara

”...did you find anything in yours?”

”Possibly.”

He rooted through the basket in question and drew out things he thought were interesting. There were three, amongst the knick-knacks, that he considered might be suited. The first was a thimble, used to protect a woman’s thumb or finger when they were doing their sewing work. But this one was not the usual bronze or copper, it was made from glass and was coloured a rose pink colour. Decorated on it, clearly the work of a talented artist, were several white flowers. The second thing he pulled out was a little cousin, it was round and of the same flower design, that was already stuck with a collection of pins and even a small needle. Finally, along with those two things, he placed a tape measure- and again, drawn amongst the numbers and points of measure, was the same white flower and rose coloured backgrounds. It appeared to be the remaining part of a set, and he pressed them down to the table now, considering them worthy offerings individually but together also.

~~
Christina Delamara

He smiled, happy he had managed to do something right at least. The smile blossomed handsomely on his face, a warm and kind smile that would put the most frightened of creature in its ease. She thanked him for his help and he nodded, a slight blush appearing on the back of his neck as she showed gratitude to him, so beautifully. Then, he moved around the counter and found a little box, placing the gift inside it, he shut it and tied it with a swirl of crimson ribbon his hands moving deft and practiced as he did so. Though, he eyes did not always remain on his work and he stole glances at her often, just to see her smile. It was far better than the tears that had threatened her eyes only moments ago.

”I’ll leave a note for Mable- then walk you back to the main market, if you’d like?”

~~

Christina Delamara

”You’re very good at that.”

”I’ve had lots of practice – I’ve been working stalls, in markets and trading wagons since I was seven or eight years old, lady Christina.” But he smiled at the compliment and nodded his head in thanks to her.

His eyes danced to the shut doorway, knowing his friend was likely to be listening now that she had calmed down. But he considered her question and hmmed to himself a little; ”Let me settle it with her on another occasion- I am sure she would be horrified with me to think I had upset you in such a manner earlier- that she will gain more form charging me twice as much for its purchase-“ And his words implied he did not mean coins or money in that charge. He offered her a playful wink and passed her the finished, well wrapped box, ”Anyway, if you talk to your friends – or waiting ladies – about this place and they shop here, you are already doing her more service than payment would. She prefers to make dresses, and bags and cloaks, than she does to simply sell her trinkets and troves.”


~~

Christina Delamara