Goal: 20k Words
Progress: 30% finished
In the first week of writing, we have a combined 30,000 words.
Content Warnings:
Violence, Sexual Content, Language, Death- some scenes may be graphic, but there will be warnings before.
Title: The Bruised Lilli & The Gilded Son
Synopsis: A work of non-fiction taking place around a historical event.
Author Notes: This is a continuation of a book being co-written by myself and Eros_Calls. The word count will only be from what is written from today on. The book is almost 50% completed, but we will not include previous work.
Progress: 30% finished
In the first week of writing, we have a combined 30,000 words.
Content Warnings:
Violence, Sexual Content, Language, Death- some scenes may be graphic, but there will be warnings before.
Title: The Bruised Lilli & The Gilded Son
Synopsis: A work of non-fiction taking place around a historical event.
Author Notes: This is a continuation of a book being co-written by myself and Eros_Calls. The word count will only be from what is written from today on. The book is almost 50% completed, but we will not include previous work.
Caffeine and I will dedicate the month to the continuation of our book. We are currently in the middle of the book so it is starting with no explanation of location or character introduction.
Reading our combined writings will give you a snapshot of the larger story. We will not share all of it because, honestly, I just don't trust people not to borrow or flat out steal. I'm not accusing any writers involved in the Write-A-Thon but this is an open group for any and all to read and I have had profile ideas, and full descriptions stolen from me in the past.
Call me paranoid.
Reading our combined writings will give you a snapshot of the larger story. We will not share all of it because, honestly, I just don't trust people not to borrow or flat out steal. I'm not accusing any writers involved in the Write-A-Thon but this is an open group for any and all to read and I have had profile ideas, and full descriptions stolen from me in the past.
Call me paranoid.
Update...
After one full week of writing, Caffeine and I just reached 30,000 words tonight!
We hope to reach the same amount of words next week, if not more.
After one full week of writing, Caffeine and I just reached 30,000 words tonight!
We hope to reach the same amount of words next week, if not more.
After editing - we wrote a total of the equivalent of 40 Word document pages. However, as I said before, we are more than a little sensitive about our efforts being posted publicly. With that said, we still want to share some of the story with you. After much discussion, we have decided to release 18 of the 40 pages written. There are some climatic scenes that occur and we would like to keep secret until further notice.
Please Note: The 18 pages we are going to release come from a work in progress. There are no introductions to the characters, description of location, or backstory on relationships. We are literally giving you a very limited snapshot of a story.
We would enjoy feedback. If what you read grips you and you are curious to find out more, please let us know. We are not looking for grammar or punctuation editing comments (final edits still need to be done) but more what do you think about the story presented.
Triggers: very vague mentions of abuse and alcohol consumption are as bad as we get in these few pages. We chose to cut out one of the steamy scenes. So, it shouldn't be offensive or require a content warning.
Please Note: The 18 pages we are going to release come from a work in progress. There are no introductions to the characters, description of location, or backstory on relationships. We are literally giving you a very limited snapshot of a story.
We would enjoy feedback. If what you read grips you and you are curious to find out more, please let us know. We are not looking for grammar or punctuation editing comments (final edits still need to be done) but more what do you think about the story presented.
Triggers: very vague mentions of abuse and alcohol consumption are as bad as we get in these few pages. We chose to cut out one of the steamy scenes. So, it shouldn't be offensive or require a content warning.
If anyone ever wondered why rich people were so peckish, it was because fine dinners usually had several courses, and this ship was no different. When an eight course meal was to be served, you ate enough to taste but not enough to satisfy. That was the secret.
Raphael felt a little guilty that he hadn't explained this fact to Lillian before dinner. He half expected Mildred to say something, but she was too caught up in chatting with the table. He didn't want to say anything aloud that would call attention to Lillian's lack of knowledge when it came to fancy dinners. He offered her a warm smile when she seemed to catch on and started leaving some of the food on the plate.
The dinner had been going smoothly thus far, but that was when the sixth course arrived in the form of a beverage. He saw the way Lillian was eyeing the glass with a confused look on her face. Raphael, wanting to show off his sophistication, took up the glass and gave Lillian a smooth smile. "It's meant to cleanse the pallet," he said as he lifted the glass to his lips and took a large swallow. With the liquid still in his mouth, one of his eyes squeezed shut in a squint. His head turned slightly to the side and his lips puckered. It wasn't that the concoction was unpleasant in general, but to Raphael, who was not a fan of orange juice and alcohol, it hit unpleasantly. "Ugh," he almost grunted as his face relaxed and he looked down into the innocent looking glass. "Not for me."
Anthony, who had been watching Raphael's reaction chortled to himself. "You are so sensitive, my friend. It can't be that bad if it's served to us." Despite his confident talk, the sip he took was measured and cautious. He licked his lips and held the glass in his hand to look at it before he took a slightly bigger sip. "It's very sweet." He ran his tongue over his lips a few times, "And bubbly." He set the glass down on the table next to Raphael's. "It's not that bad," he said with a shrug as his attention turned to Mildred and Lillian.
Anthony was never shy to tease Mildred on things he knew would embarrass her. "Come now, Milly. Try it out and let's see if you make the same face as Raph." He smiled playfully at her, his eyebrows lifting once and then relaxing as he dared her in his way. "And you, Lillian." Anthony nudged Raph with his elbow, "You can handle yourself better than our lord here." Anthony stood, wandered away from the table then and could be seen conversing with a server. What they were talking about was unclear, but he was motioning to the orange filled glasses on the man's tray.
Lillian didn’t know what to think. On the surface, it appeared to be some kind of frozen drink, with scents that were both familiar and unfamiliar. At first, blue eyes looked up to see what Raphael’s reaction to it was, as that had so far gotten her through the meal. He said that it was something to cleanse the pallet, whatever that might’ve meant, but she watched as he dared to try it. She looked at Mildred, who was watching with the same fascination.
When Raphael finally did taste it, he gave a reaction that made Lillian blink and swallow the giggle. She didn’t want him to think she was laughing at him, but Mildred did it for her. Her contagious laughter floated easily across the table, though it softened when she looked at Anthony. “Oh come now, it cannot be that horrific, Raphael.” Mostly, Mildred was basing this off of Anthony’s reaction, rather than Raph’s. However, with a brave face, she lifted the cup to her lips. She looked almost confused at first, and smacked her lips just once as if trying to decide the flavour, though it was her eye twitching that may have betrayed her. “It’s very…..tart. But not as bad as expected. Lillian?”
With eyes on her now, Lillian felt that minor pressure again. She realized it was not malicious, but it still felt strange to have their eyes on her. “Oh, alright,” She said softly, her gloved fingers reaching out for the glass. She took a shallow breath, then brought the cup to her lips. She wasn’t even sure she could describe the flavor if she tried. It wasn’t nearly as bad as she had anticipated, but beyond the rum, she wasn’t sure of much else in it, and rum wasn’t exactly attached to the best memories.
She quickly set the cup down again, her face twitching lightly before she looked back up. “Is….is it supposed to taste like….alcohol?” She asked this quietly, genuinely curious but also slightly afraid that this would be a stupid question. “And is it required that I finish it?” As Anthony made his way back to the table, something about that question would cause a flash within Lillian’s eyes.
Raphael smiled warmly at Lillian and reached over to take her glass. "No, Lillian, you don't have to finish it. I know I will not be." He set her glass next to his as Anthony rejoined the table. Lillian breathed a sigh of relief when he told her that she did not have to finish it. She watched as he reached over to take the glass, just as Anthony began to speak.
In his most take charge tone he addressed the small group of friends. "I have solved the mystery of the sixth course. It is called Punch Romaine," he smirked a little at his own cleverness. "But the contents explains why our young Lord here does not care for it." He placed one of his hands on Raphael's shoulders and went on to give the ingredients of the drink. Champagne - Raphael detested champagne; a fact Anthony and Mildred knew well - white wine, fruit juices - today's was orange juice - and white rum with a simple sugar glaze. "It is meant to act like a sorbe, but boozy." Anthony beamed at his own genius.
Raphael glanced over at his friend and smacked him gently on the back in a form of mock congratulations. "You should think about a career as a detective if your political career fails." Raphael sat back down in his seat as Anthony removed his hand from his shoulder.
As to be expected, Raphael was more interested in Lillian than anything else. Curiously he asked, "Out of the ingredients, which do you think disagreed with you?"
When asked, her thoughts broke as she considered the glass again, as smoothly as if she had been born to be here. However, her voice did lower just a touch for them. “Well, I’ve never had champagne before. But I….I think it might be the rum. Never had good experiences with it.” And that was all Lillian would say on that subject.
Anthony, not able to resist giving away something he thought was funny about Raphael, looked at Lillian and explained. "Lord LaBlanc here is repelled by champagne. It stems from an event when we were quite young.”
Raphael put a hand out towards his friend. "Anthony. No one need hear that story. You know Mildred does not appreciate it."
Anthony laughed, "That's only because she was one you vomited on."
Luckily for her, Anthony then brought up a very interesting story as to why Raphael might have disliked the drink. She heard a small groan beside her from Mildred, who seemed to remember quite clearly what it was Anthony and Raphael were talking about. But there was something about the way Anthony said it. “Hold on, she was one you vomited on? Now I must know, how many people exactly did you vomit on?” Maybe it wasn’t the best dinner subject, and in no way did she want anyone embarrassed, but this, once more, came down to the differences in their class, and in this one, Lillian honestly hadn’t any idea what might be appropriate or inappropriate.
Mildred, however, sighed lightly as she looked over to Lillian. “All you need to know, darling is that story does not need to be repeated for the millionth time. And we know he did not mean too. But we learned a little something about tolerances that night, didn’t we?” Her eyes were kind and her laugh was bright, but she did look semi-darkly at Anthony. “But point of quarry, why is it you love telling that story so much? You got in more trouble than any of us!”
“Oh I did. Very much. But that doesn’t make it any less hilarious.” Anthony teased back, his eyes watching Mildred’s face with that adoring little expression. “But if we let her know….”
Mildred did not look impressed, but it was hard for her to stay mad at Anthony. She looked between Raphael, Lillian and Anthony, and couldn’t help the small roll of her eyes, and looked over at Raphael. “Okay, okay. Since I think you guys make the perfect couple, and I don’t think Raphael will be bringing anyone else around, you can tell this story one more time.”
Raphael, blushing maroon, as one of the most humiliating indiscretions of his youth was about to be laid bare to his Lillian, complete with Anthony’s colorful commentary. All of their eyes were on him in anticipation of the story he was going to tell. Mildred always huffed about the telling of the story as it was one of Anthony’s favorites, but despite her having the ability to shut both the boys up, she usually let the story be told. Raphael believed she liked to act more offended than she actually was. When the story was over, she would be laughing as hard as anyone else. Raphael shifted in his chair to start the story, his eyes flitting between Lillian who the story was being told for, and Mildred who was the other main player in the tale. “The story begins at…”
As Lillian leaned in to settle down for this story, with the confusion of Mildred’s words of ‘perfect couple’, across the room, another pair of eyes was watching with deep intent. And deep fury. Meredith sat with her mother, fuming as she watched Raphael, Anthony and even the mousy Mildred all laugh with her. With that dirty little sewer rat. Not at. They didn’t humiliate her, like Meredith wanted too. They didn’t shun her, like they should have. No, that little blond rat sat in a borrowed dress that she couldn’t afford if her entire life depended on it.
Meredith’s thoughts were ripped at the seams at the sharp, nearly barking laugh of her mother. “And what in God’s name are you laughing at?” She snapped.
Her mother, a cruel woman by nature, looked over at her daughter. “Why, you, Meredith. Your chances of marrying that boy are slipping away faster and faster with each laugh, and what are you doing about it?” Coldly, the woman looked at her daughter with malice in her face. “Nothing. You’re doing absolutely nothing while that girl steals every chance you’ll ever have of him looking at you.”
The glass shook in Meredith’s hand. “Oh, no. She won’t.” She muttered under her breath, and feeling the disappointing, stinging sensation of her mother’s eyes, she stood and stormed over to the table, where she picked up on the word ‘story.’ Coolly, calmly, she walked confidently up to the table, making sure to stand between Raphael and Anthony, as if both of them were dedicated to her, rather than the women who sat here. But as she spoke, the voice and tone she used was enough to make even Mildred look at her differently, “A story? Why, I’d be delighted to hear a story. What story?” But these words were dangerous, and everyone but Lillian knew it.
The words Raphael had began to speak got stuck in his throat as the most unpleasant and unwelcomed voice slithered into their circle. Raphael turned his head just enough to make eye contact with Anthony, who looked just as unhappy as himself. Meredith’s presence loomed in the space between Raphael and Anthony. Raphael felt a movement on the back of his chair, Meredith’s hand perhaps. He didn’t care to look. He huffed and addressed the wicked girl who was truly cruel to Mildred and just as cold toward Lillian. “Meredith,” he said coldly. “And what brings to over to our table. There are no chairs available.”
Mildred hadn’t stopped staring at Meredith, especially as the tone of Meredith’s voice was high and what could only be described as ‘sugary.’ It was fake, that she knew, but what Mildred couldn’t figure out was why. Leaning back lightly in her chair, her eyes nearly on fire as she watched Meredith attempt to touch both Raphael and Anthony. “Yes, Meredith. What is it you could possibly want?” She asked as well, her voice hardening with each word.
Meredith looked at Raphael when he informed her there was no chairs. For a split second, she considered her options, and then, shockingly, she simply let herself slide into Raphael’s lap, enjoying the flare of jealousy that lined Lillian’s eyes, and the look of shock in the others faces. It was a bold, bold move for a young lady in these times, but desperate times call for desperate measures. “Raphael, darling.” She let herself make a small show of leaning against him, ignoring Mildred entirely, as if this entire situation was the norm. “You may as well tell your story. After all, I will find out everything about you once we’re married.”
That word hit Lillian like a hammer. She felt her fists curl under the table, but the sparkle in the corner of her eye reminded her this was not third class. And the burning in her arms as her hands tightened reminded her that she was not ready for a fight. Lillian was not usually a fighter, in fact she was the exact opposite, but when it came to Raphael, something in her wanted to protect him against this vile addition. She knew he hated Meredith, he had made that extremely clear last night in the staircase, but she didn’t know what would be appropriate. So she looked at Raphael, her eyes asking the question her mouth didn’t know.
Mildred, however, was not about to tolerate that. Her mouth initially opened in the breath she took, but before she could actually get the words out, she saw that glint in Raph’s eye, and trusting him, decided to wait just a moment longer. Rather than saying anything, knowing Raphael was about to handle this, Mildred’s hand slid over to Lillian’s in the way of comfort and support, but her lips twitched lightly as she heard Raphael start to speak.
As much as Lillian didn’t want too, she couldn’t help but watch as Meredith made herself extremely comfortable on Raphael’s lap. She found herself squeezing Mildred’s hand as she felt her reach out, but she couldn’t seem to make herself look away. She made herself draw a deep breath, but it was stolen straight from her lungs as Raphael spoke. Raphael’s arms lifted the moment Meredith had the audacity to sit down in his lap. As his head turned away in disgust, he caught the eye of his mother who had turned red with rage. He lifted one of his hands to let her know he was going to take care of it. Meredith calling him darling and mentioning marriage made him furious and act little hastily. “Married?” he asked in an almost insulted way. “How am I to marry you when I have already asked Lillian to be my wife?” His gaze turned from revulsion to bliss as he looked across the table to Lillian. He rested his arm onto the table and extended it towards Lillian.
Anthony had been looking at Raphael with a combination of relief Meredith had not picked his lap to sit in and dread for his friend whose lap she had chosen. He was shocked at her boldness and was offended for his friend. His eyes left Raphael and Meredith to try and keep Mildred calm as he knew the history between the two women and the disdain. However, Raphael caught him off guard completely when he opened his mouth. Anthony’s head snapped back to Meredith for he had to see the look on her face.
For a moment, Lillian was not sure what she heard. Meredith, however, heard it crystal clear. She stiffened against Raphael’s lap, and then made a sound that was a laugh of disbelief. “You cannot possibly mean that. I mean, she’s—, Raphael, you cannot be serious.“
“But he is. He did ask me, not long ago. I, of course, said yes.” Lillian spoke suddenly and calmly, encouraged by the squeezing of Mildred’s hand, and not really wanting to hear what new colorful words Meredith might have. When she saw Raphael’s hand moving towards her, Lillian did not hesitate to set her hand within his, holding his for strength, and feeling the spark of love she had been hoping wasn’t an illusion. Lillian didn’t understand that this, especially in this circle, was as serious as a heart attack, but for her, she just assumed that this was their ultimate way to get her to go away. “And…”
Seeing Lillian struggle for words, Anthony smoothly slid forward in his chair, raising his glass as Meredith’s face rose in color, and rage. “And it’s already been approved by my father. So, if you wouldn’t mind removing yourself from my friend, I think all of us would prefer you…be anywhere else.”
“Approved by your father?” Meredith’s voice broke into a sharp, humorless laugh that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Well then, I suppose congratulations are in order.” The words were sweet as venom. Her gaze flicked between Lillian and Raphael, lingering on their joined hands before settling on Anthony with a look that could curdle wine. “You all move so quickly when it comes to replacing what you can’t control.” She rose from Raphael’s lap with the kind of grace that came from years of hiding fury behind poise, and added in a tone dipped in sugar, “Enjoy your little victory, Lillian. I do hope you know how easily they tire of their toys.” As she walked around the table, she got close enough to Lillian to add, for her alone: “Which is all you’ll ever be, you little rat.”
Meredith’s words rang over and over again in Lillian’s mind, almost making her miss Anthony’s reaction. She shook her thoughts out of her head as she focused in on Anthony almost throwing Raphael out of his chair in the tackle, which brought a laugh out of her. Beside her, as the men were speaking, Mildred’s expression was huge, bright and amazed as she turned towards Lillian. “Why didn’t you tell me?! Oh my goodness, this is so exciting!”
“I was just…taking the time to consider properly.” Lillian didn’t really know how to respond, but thankfully, Raphael’s voice cut through the rest of the noise. She turned to smile at him, grateful he was still there.
Raphael missed Meredith’s pause at Lillian’s shoulder as Anthony had practically tackled him in his chair. “You didn’t tell me you had already done it, you sly fox.” Raphael laughed as he tried to push Anthony off him while trying not to fall out of his chair – that would be a sight.
The commotion at the other end of the table drew the attention of the adults from their conversation. They started chatting about what the “children” could possibly be on about. Lady Gabrielle thought she knew and was studying faces. All were laughing and happy at the moment, but she noticed Lillian’s face start to show a little doubt.
Once Anthony had released Raphael from his congratulatory squeeze, Raphael got up and went around the table to Lillian. He offered his hands to her and pulled her out of her chair to look at him. “I was so worried you would run if I said that out loud.”
“Why ever would I run?” At this point, Lillian still thought that the three of them were just sticking with the act of the marriage for Raphael’s sake, so it didn’t surprise her that he walked over and helped her out of the chair, so she could stand and face him. But she was not prepared for the words he said next.
Raphael had meant what he said. It hadn’t been a grand proposal, but it was his proposal. He gripped her hands more firmly in his. “I swear, Lillian, I will be a good husband to you.” He licked his lower lip as he rushed to continue. “I will cherish you every day. And show you that I am worthy of your love and your hand.” He smiled so big it felt like his skin was stretching far too much. “I love you, Lillian.”
What did surprise her, what even truly stunned her were the following words. He loved her. He wished to marry her. For a moment, her mind simply refused to understand the meaning. Then, as the truth of it settled in, as it sank deep into her brain that none of this had been the joke she thought it was, the air seemed to vanish. The room shrank, its walls pressing close as though the fine papered panels themselves sought to crush her. Her chest tightened until she could scarcely draw breath, her heart thrumming so violently it hurt. Every beat felt like a blow. A cold, prickling heat swept over her skin; her hands trembled in his, the lace at her cuffs quivering with the movement. “You..what? How?” It was the only question she found herself able to ask.
He said he loved her. Her. A woman who had crawled from filth and bruises, from the screams and fists of a man who called ownership love. A woman who flinched at kindness, and was confused by gentleness. And now this. This golden creature of silk and pure gentility was promising her safety, kindness, and devotion. Her head filled with the roaring of her pulse, the blood rushing in her ears until she could no longer hear his voice, or anything else. The light in the room dimmed, then narrowed; all she could see was his mouth moving, his hand reaching, and the terrible, suffocating thought that it would all turn the same, regardless of the beginning. That he would tire of her, that the sweetness would curdle and turn to venom, that the cage would only be lined with velvet this time. Her breath caught, sharp and thin. Her vision spotted. For one dreadful instant, she thought she might fall dead away from the sheer impossibility of being loved by such a man, and the terror that came with it.
“Raph, what?” She wasn’t actually sure she said this out loud, but it was at that moment that Mildred touched her, making her jump lightly as she turned to face her beaming smile, and the sudden crowd of women she found herself surrounded with. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Raph get pulled away by Anthony, and who she could only assume was Anthony’s father, but Lillian didn’t hear anything that any of them said. Not over the static and ringing that had replaced her actual hearing.
Raphael was blinded by happiness and love. To Lillian it might seem strange that he would use the word love so quickly. But Raphael was raised by parents who were romantics themselves. Who had there own hurtles to overcome when his father proposed to his mother – Raphael saw his situation as being not much different. He knew he was not looking for someone who was going to think him perfect or tell him he was right when even he knew he was wrong. He did not want a woman who would throw away her own identity just to gain a title. He did not know that much about Lillian, but he was certain she would never lose herself in jewelry or the glamour. She would remember her beginnings, and she would never be afraid to push back against him when he was being stubborn or being short sighted. But, above all else, he saw his future with Lillian. He could see himself being a doting and loving husband to her in ways he could never have envisioned when he had only been exposed to debutantes like Meredith. Lillian was his match.
So, when Lillian froze and she was barely able to question him, he assumed she had been struck with the same wave of delight as himself. He imagined he had taken her breath away. He told himself that the trembling of her hands was not fear, but excitement. He had found his future in her, and he hoped she was seeing hers with him.
He had no opportunity to ask her, as he felt Anthony’s hands on his shoulders just as Mildred was touching Lillian. The sexes were to separate them now – women with women, men with men – he knew they would come back together before long. That belief was the only way he was able to release her hands and turn from her to greet the Grand Duke who he took the congratulations from humbly.
Across the table, Lady Gabrielle could see the overwhelming feeling that came over Lillian’s eyes. Her son didn’t, as he was too happy to see it, and he unwittingly left her to the vultures as he wound up pulled away from her by the group of men that were just behind the women. And oh, did the women flock. Starting with Mildred, followed by every other young lady that had an ounce of respect, and then their mothers. Lady Gabrielle heard the question of the ring over and over again, but Lillian didn’t have an answer. Even if she had, with how pale she was going, and how light her eyes were turning, Lady Gabrielle wasn’t sure how much longer she might be able to fend off the wolves. In the middle of her own conversation, she paused and excused herself to rescue Lillian. She stood elegantly, the fabric of her dress whispering lightly as she moved towards the crowd.
Upon reaching Lillian, Lady Gabrielle gently parted the crowd. “Excuse me, ladies. I need a word with my future daughter in law.” She gave no further explanation, but she did exchange a look with her husband before taking the stunned girl towards the door. Before they could exit, Lady Gabrielle ran almost straight into a girl in a dark orchid dress with gorgeous white hair.
The white haired girl took a half step back before realizing it. “Oh, excuse me, milady. Is this the first class dining hall?” The girl asked in a thick English accent.
Lady Gabrielle, still holding onto Lillian, nodded. “Yes. You’re a little bit late, but we’ve just started the sixth course.” But the girl only thanked Lady Gabrielle before she headed further in, while the other two women left the room entirely.
Lillian could barely hear the words being said between the two, but she could feel Lady Gabrielle’s gentle hand on her arm. She didn’t speak as she followed Lady Gabrielle back up the stairs, each step heavy, and loud inside Lillian’s head. The next time a clear, coherent thought passed in her brain, she found herself standing in the LaBlanc’s stateroom, with his mother staring at her. She gasped softly, terror crawling in every vein. “Milady, please..”
“It’s quite alright, Lillian. You looked like you needed out of there.” Lady Gabrielle said as she sat on the sofa, patting the spot next to her. Lillian didn’t dare disobey, and sat quietly next to her. “So, my son has proposed. But I must know, was it foolish of him to do so?”
“I didn’t think he meant it! I just thought— I…I.” Overwhelmed, Lillian dropped her head into her hands, trying to separate logic from fear.
“He had professed his love. To you, and us. These are not words our family takes lightly, Lillian. And he would give you everything you could ever have dreamed of. And more, should you accept.” Lady Gabrielle’s words were gentle, and kind. Which made them even more terrifying to Lillian. “However, as his mother, I do not wish to see my son tormented. If you are not serious about him, or have any doubts, then you must break it off. I will ensure that he stays away from you, if these are your wishes.”
To Lillian, these words were both choice and trap. It sounded so official. So business like. Like a contract, a transaction just to be made. She hadn’t any idea that the beauty and love she saw in this family reached as far inside as it did outside, and this was just how families like this operated when it came to marriage, but how could she? She had known him for a day. Raphael had told her that his parents were dead set on a marriage, but to her? The poor, dirty, third class girl with absolutely nothing to offer anyone? Realizing the silence was pressing, Lillian finally looked up at Lady Gabrielle. “My wishes?” She murmured to herself. “Milady, please do not think me ungrateful. The time I have spent here has been…the happiest of my life.” But her expression turned dark, and fearful once more. “But I have just left my home. Fled it, more like. I have nothing to offer. I have never had a choice, a freedom, or anything of my own that wasn’t forcefully taken. I must apologize, but you too must understand. I do not doubt Raphael, nor his intentions. He is a wonderful man, and nothing I know of him leads me to believe otherwise. But I just left a home where I was…” It still hurt too much to even say it aloud. “ And it has been not even two full days. This is too much at once.”
Lady Gabrielle listened. She listened carefully, and she listened closely. Lillian was terrified of something, or someone. In truth, Lady Gabrielle thought she might be terrified of just about everything, but she also understood on a deeper level than that. She nodded slowly. “I understand. My foolish boy will always be apt to disappointment and sorrow when he rushes into things headfirst.” She said softly to herself, before turning to Lillian once more. “I know not of what your circumstances are,” She paused as she thought of the extreme bruising all over Lillian’s body, and although her instinct was still to rush the girl to the nearest hospital wing, she knew she couldn’t force that. “But you are free to go. You may go and make your choices, Lillian. I will keep Raphael away from you, but please remember that you will still be welcomed in this family, should you ever need us.”
Standing to rejoin the dinner, she made it to the door before she turned back to see Lillian, sitting in the couch, wound as tight as a piano string and just as ready to snap. Hoping to put some ease in the girl, Lady Gabrielle added; “Oh, and please, keep what you’re wearing, all of it. It is his gift to you. Keep safe, my dear, but remember what I said.” Closing the door then, she sighed deeply, and sadly, as she turned to go and break her wayward son’s heart.
--
Raphael, being the son of an important man, was no stranger to attention albeit limited but attention none the less. However, the amount of attention he received overwhelmed even him. Anthony's father, the Grand Duke, coming over to him was one thing, they had known each other for years. But there were faces coming up to him with congratulations that he had never seen before, nor were they at his table. Just as Lillian was swarmed, so was Raphael, though the conversation was much different.
The questions that were being asked in a frenzy around Raphael were questions he hadn't been prepared to answer. "Whose daughter is she so we can offer our congratulations to them?" "Where are her parents? Did you not think to invite them?" Where's her lady's maid, she can fetch them." Raphael must have started getting the deer in the headlights look as his father was altered to his son's distress and came over to rescue him.
"Gentlemen!," he said in his polite yet controlling way. "Let the boy breath. Surely you remember how nervous you were when you first got engaged." Lord Sebastian's statement quieted the men and they started talking amongst themselves as Lord Sebastian led Raphael away from the group to speak privately with him.
With one of his strong arms resting on Raphael's shoulders, Sebastian leaned in close and spoke secretly with his son. "We asked you to wait, Raph. Remember? Your mother and I wanted to get to know her better before we announced the proposal so we could navigate these questions. Do you want something as joyous of your engagement to be wrapped in scandal?”
Raphael, now that his nerves were settling, was able to think rationally. "It was stupid and impulsive, I know...but I meant it. I really did, father."
"I know you did, son. Your mother and I know you meant it. We have seen the change in you. And we support the engagement. But son," his voice dropped to that 'I'm disappointed in you' tone, "there are certain ways we need to make announcements. Preparations to be made. Stories to have straight."
Sebastian wasn't trying to crush his son, but this is exactly what they had wanted to help control by requesting the engagement wait a day or two. He looked at his son, "Your mother has taken Lillian back to the room to speak with her."
The color in Raphael's face returned and his eyes brightened. "Will she give Lillian the ring?"
Sebastian was trying to keep Raphael calm. "Your mother is going to get the story straight and, if everything works out, Lillian will be given the ring, yes. But, son...when they get back, don't rush the girl. Keep your composure and be her strength."
Raphael understood and felt a sense of pride straighten his shoulders and fill chest. "I understand, father."
By the time Lord Sebastian and Raphael rejoined the men, the conversation had moved on. Most of the men had moved back their seats, while Anthony had joined Mildred and the group of giggling girls. Raphael didn't want to join either group. He hovered by his chair with his eyes fixed on the door in anticipation of their return.
When one is anxious or excited about something even a minute can feel like an eternity. Raphael had no idea how many eternities he stood there for but he straightened when he saw his mother return to the dining hall. He smiled warmly and then searched the emptiness for Lillian. When she didn't appear, Raphael turned his attention back to his mother. She gave the slightest shake of her head and Raphael's world fell completely apart.
Before Lillian could even begin to explain, or call her back, or stop her in any way, Lady Gabrielle had left the room. In the silence, Lillian felt the screaming in her chest, the vast emptiness that immediately surrounded her. Her breath was sharp as glass as she inhaled it, or tried to, given the fact she wasn’t sure she remembered how to breathe. It was overwhelming, what was being offered to her. It was insanity, surely, to marry a man she had just met, the day after meeting him. Gods, she hated how transactional this felt. It went from meeting him to learning him, then it felt like they skipped about other nineteen steps to land at proposal.
Lillian couldn’t breathe, and pushed herself to her feet, moving to the door. There, she paused as she let watery blue eyes sweep around the glittering room. But it wasn’t the glitter she saw. It was Raphael, sitting there, serving her a pear. It was them laughing and deciding to go explore. It was the moment she took his arm for dinner. The sound that left her was a sob masked as a sigh, but she felt the tear roll down her cheek as she closed the door behind her. She paused momentarily when she got to the hallway, torn between which way to go. Half of her wanted to run back to the dining hall, but she was well aware that showing up like this, and doing so could cause a chain of reactions she wasn’t ready for, and she didn’t want the LaBlancs to deal with either.
Instead, in some half cocked idea of saving them any more embarrassment from her, she did start towards the stairs, intending on taking them back down to her room, but her journey was abruptly interrupted by the older gentleman she had met when she had boarded. She halted in her tracks as she recognized him, almost having stepped in his path as he ascended the stairs, and tried to step around him with a simple; “Excuse me, sir.” But, for the third time in three days, a person reached out and grabbed her like she was a possession, only this time, there was nobody around to save her.
The older man grabbed her arm, turning her to face him as he grinned. “Well, excuse me. Hold on, little one. I didn’t think you’d be working up here yet, but.” His eyes, greedy and selfish, roamed her body while he pulled her closer, and didn’t once look her in the face. “My offer still stands, if you are looking for something quick. I promise I wouldn’t hurt you.”
Disgust crawled up Lillian’s back as she listened to his offer. His hand gripping her arm hurt, but she had had just about all she could take tonight, and this man, this interaction, was not making it any better. It was a small struggle, and it sent a small shock of pain through Lillian’s arm, but she managed to pull her arm away without resorting to screaming. Barely. “I said no before, and I say no now. Now good night!” She snapped at him through the beginning of sobs, before she turned and ran away from him and the stairs.
This, however, left the opportunity for someone else to slip into the fold. Mary, a busybody little woman with a nose for gossip, who was as false as a wooden leg, and ridiculously loyal to Meredith Alexander, approached the gentleman, and in a sweet, kind tone, asked: “Excuse me, sir. Might I inquire, who was that?”
Although it was not custom for a lady’s maid to address someone other than another servant, it was not entirely unheard of, and this time, overlooked and answered, as the answer was simple. “Who, her? Ach, she is nothing but a prostitute. Better stay away, I say.” He said as if he quite literally hadn’t just tried to proposition her.
To Mary, this was exactly the news she wanted to hear. As she thanked the gentlemen, and helped him on his way, the only thing Mary could do as she continued to follow Lillian was grin, thinking about how Meredith was going to receive this piece of news.
Lillian, unaware anyone was following her, let the previously gained knowledge of the floor guide her feet while her mind now worked through fears, what actually happened, and now disgust. She ran until she hit the back stairs, the one actually used by third class passengers to get up to their common rooms, but didn’t make it down them as she ran into yet another person.
Ashley, who had been on his way up for a drink with Lillian on his mind, was surprised and delighted when he saw her running by. But he grew both curious and concerned when he saw the tears in her eyes. “Lillian!” He watched as she stopped, looking around for the voice. He caught up to her quickly, but his smile faded when he got closer and realized how upset she was. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”
Simply too upset to form that many words, and considering that he was currently sober and being nice, Lillian only sobbed in response, which made Ashley do the only thing he could think of. He pulled her into a hug, which she allowed and reciprocated by hugging him back as she cried into his chest. Ashley didn’t get any of the words she said, but he guessed by the tone and situation that something had gone wrong with the rich guy, which in the back of his head meant, he still had a shot if he played this right. “Hey, shhh. It’s okay. Come on, come with me. We can talk about it.” His voice was gentle, but he had no intention of listening. She, of course, didn’t need to know that as she let herself be guided into the third class common rooms, where she still couldn’t see much.
In the hall, watching with that hawks eye, Mary stood, gaining every piece of information she could. ’So, that’s your secret.’ She thought as she watched them enter the common room together, and she saw just a glimpse of Ashley and Lillian sitting together before she turned, and headed back to the dining hall to report back everything she had seen.
Back in the dining hall, Raphael's heart raced and his vision shrunk to what seemed to him like a pinhole. Without causing a scene or bringing any real attention to himself, he left the table and began walking towards the door that led out of the dining room. By the door, there was an unmanned cart of spirits. As Raphael passed, he reached out and grabbed the neck of a rather large bottle of amber liquid and stepped out into the hallway.
Lady Gabrielle watched her son but knew better than to try and stop him. She had seen him like this before and knew he was in no position to listen. She knew from past experiences of major disappointment, Raphael would find a quiet place and sulk for a while. Once he had time to come to terms with his heartbreak he would return to their room and together they would start the healing process.
Lady Gabrielle joined her husband back at the table. Lord Sebastian had noticed his wife return alone and then his son exiting the dining hall. Like his wife, Lord Sebastian knew better than to chase his son. "What happened? Where is Lillian?"
Lady Gabrielle touched her husband's arm and looked into his eyes. "She wasn't ready for all this."
"So... that's it?"
Lady Gabrielle gave her husband a knowing look. "Don't count your ponies, my lord. It took me a while to come around, too."
Lord Sebastian chuckled as he remembered how Gabrielle had kept him waiting on pins and needles as she had considered his proposal. "Hopeful, then?"
"Let us just say, the young lady did not say 'No', only that it was too much for her." Lady Gabrielle took her seat and pulled her husband down by the wrist. "Let them both cool off and think. If it is meant to be, they will find each other again."
The couple excused away the absence of both Raphael and Lillian by saying they needed some time to talk.
While his parents discussed in the dining hall Raphael was bumping around in the hallways as he tried to remember if there were any stairways that would take him down. He knew the grand staircase didn't go down anymore from here, only up - but he didn't want to go up.
The amber liquid from the bottle he had swiped began to disappear at a faster rate than it should for an experienced drinker, which Raphael was not. He met dead ends and 'Staff Only' areas, which led him straight back to the grand staircase and up away from the dining hall. One floor up, and the bottle missing a third of its contents, Raphael was finally able to find the stair case he was looking for. He headed down at a pace swift enough that he was forced to lay off the bottle so he could keep up with his breathing.
He reached the floor he recalled her room was on from when he had walked her home the previous night. His vision was getting hazy as he had returned to taking generous drinks from the bottle as he made his way down the hallway.
He found the door he was...mostly sure was hers. He knocked on the door and, for good measure, called to her as well. "Lillian!" He knocked again and raised his voice. "Lillian!" He pressed his ear to the door and heard nothing. Some doors from down the hall opened and people peered out. Raphael, manners forward, acknowledged them and said almost timidly, "My apologies."
He turned away from the people in the hallway and headed back towards the stairs that had taken him down and started the climb back up. Going up took a lot longer than going down and there were a lot more stops to allow him to nurse from the bottle of amber liquid.
By the time he arrived back on the floor he had been on to take the stairs down he was deflated. Not knowing where to go now he started looking at the placards that addressed what each room was. He located a room entitled Second Class Library. He opened the door and stumbled in.
The room was empty save for a young lady at a far table who was much in the same state as himself - drunk. He focused on the table and recognized about a dozen of the glasses that contained the punch stuff that was the sixth course from the dining hall. 'No wonder she looks sick,' he thought to himself.
As the library doors groaned open, the young lady with the stunning white hair was slumped sideways in a chair like an exhausted Victorian goblin. Surrounded by a small wooden table and what appeared to be half a dozen glasses from the dining hall, she was more than half-asleep, or possibly half-dead. When the door creaked again, her sea-bright eyes cracked open just enough to glare at the intruder: the young Lord himself.
Earlier, while she’d been heroically collecting glasses, she’d overheard an entire parliament of noblefolk squawking about marriage. She hadn’t cared then. She didn’t care now. But she had seen enough ridiculous excitement to make her wonder what he was doing here at this hour. At least until she noticed the giant bottle in his hand, and her lips curled into a smirk. Ah. Celebration. To her, that explained the stride, the bottle, and possibly the dramatic entrance. And maybe his face, although she could barely see it.
Without a word, she peeled herself off the chair, shuffled to the slightly longer couch in the corner, and promptly flopped onto it, clearly prepared to sleep there for the rest of the night, or until the ship caught fire. Whichever came first.
—
In the common room, Ashley took the still sobbing Lillian, and promptly dumped her with Martha, their other roommate, and went off to get a drink. Martha, surprised to see her, and even more surprised to see her in this state, promptly pulled her down to sit. “Oh, my darling, what’s happened?” Martha asked in concern as she held the drink out to Lillian.
Lillian took it, and was eventually able to calm down enough to drink it, but she wouldn’t talk. She couldn’t. Her mind was struggling to process the events that just happened, from Raphael’s parents being so lovely, yet so terrifying, to Raphael’s proposal, to his beautiful circle of friends. She gasped as she thought of the conversation she and Raph had earlier. Would this affect his family? Oh god. She drank deeper from the cup, unable to pay attention to almost anything around her as the scenes just kept themselves on repeat over and over.
The cup kept somehow getting refilled, and Lillian didn’t know how much time had passed, but she had this sudden, almost consuming feeling that she was wrong. About all of it. Bits and pieces of conversations through the day circled, Mildred’s voice running in her head. ’Now watch it drop for you. I’ve never seen him happy like this. He doesn’t give girls his attention.’ , his parents voices proclaiming to the table how lovely she was, and Raphael himself, telling her that he would be a good husband. And that he loved her. She believed that, she realized. She didn’t know why, or how, or what, but like a force coming down, she just knew. “I have to go."
Lillian didn’t finish her sudden sentence. She was still in the dress, which meant she could get back onto the first class. She pushed her way out of the crowd of people, although she heard Ashley calling for her behind her.
---
Raphael, large half-empty bottle in hand, just wanted a place to sit and fall apart. The room had looked lonely, and he would have avoided entering if he had known anyone was inside. His eyes met hers as she looked up and towards the door. Neither of them spoke – it didn’t seem necessary. He was debating taking a seat at a different table as her or departing the room altogether – he knew his company would be grim at best and she looked ready to pass out.
When she rose from her chair at the table with the empty goblets littered over the top, Raphael stood daftly by the door and watched her curiously. She didn’t approach him, which he was thankful for, instead she wandered over to a couch and laid down. Raphael turned and looked over his shoulder to ensure no one was walking by to witness himself alone with a young lady who was about as intoxicated as he, lying on a couch in an empty room. This was not an added layer of scandal he wanted attached to his name on top of the rumors Meredith had already spread and his proposal being declined in front of the entire dining hall. He had no doubt he was already the laughingstock of the night.
Even though he was feeling particularly sorry for himself, his sense of empathy wasn’t swayed. He did approach the drunk girl on the couch who he could see was on the verge of unconsciousness. He placed the half-empty bottle on a table so he could remove his suit coat as he approached the couch she had claimed. He covered her with the suit coat carefully. It wasn’t as good as a blanket, but it was something and all he had to offer. He backed away from her and the couch once the coat was placed and left the library so he wouldn’t be caught there and assumptions made.
Upon exiting the library, Raphael he did not want to go up to B Deck. He really did not wish to run into anyone he knew. He wasn’t in the mood to explain himself or tell the story of his offer of marriage being rejected. He was embarrassed and heartbroken. Instead of heading towards the stairs that would take him to B Deck that will surely fill with people once dinner concluded, he instead decided to follow the seemingly endless stark white hallway that led away from the library. He had no clue where he would end up, which gave him a slight sense of adventure. He bumped into the walls a few times in this drunken state but managed to stay mostly upright and on his feet. He followed the hallway until he pushed through a door and found himself on one of the open aired decks of the ships.
The wind was cold and seemed to go straight through his white dress shirt. He crossed his arms over his chest and tucked his hands into his armpits. He should have turned to go back inside but his eyes were drawn to the back of the ship. His feet carried him towards the railing and the peacefulness of the ocean. As he got closer to the back of the boat, he spotted a plum of smoke coming up from one of the benches. Raphael slowed his steps, his eyes searching the bench to see if it might be someone he recognized.
As he got a little closer Raphael was able to see that this was not someone he knew. The young man was in common clothing and Raphael instantly felt safer than if it had been someone dressed in a tuxedo. As the young man was in Raphael’s line of view, when the young man looked up, Raphael was surely in his as well. To be friendly Raphael said politely, “You have the right idea, my friend. Find a quiet bench away from all the noise and just enjoy the stars.” Though Raphael didn’t realize it, his words were slightly slurred and he was wavering slightly from side to side, unable to stand upright.
The young man took another pull on his cigarette before nodding his head in agreement. “A man could get used to this.”
Raphael took another step closer so he could lean against the bench. “That looks like a warm coat,” he said as if just trying to make conversation.
With a small chuckled the young man replied, “We are out on the Atlantic Ocean, and it is close to freezing out here.” The young man eyed Raphael who was clearly dressed formally, minus the suit coat. “Did you forget your coat at the party?” it was obvious he was trying to be funny.
Raphael appreciated the humor and smiled. “No…” He looked out at the water over the back of the ship. “Parties over for me. I think…” Raphael looked down the open aired deck, “I think I might go find my own bench and see what the stars tell me. Good evening,” he said in parting as he moved away from the end of the boat to find himself a bench that spoke to him.
As he half stumbled, half walked along the deck, he passed up several perfectly wonderful benches that just didn’t appeal to him. Finally, he did find a bench he thought looked welcoming and stepped up to it. He sat down and then lay down and got himself comfortable. He had just got himself comfortable and had started looking up at the sky when there was the sound of running footsteps growing closer to him. By the time he sat up to look, he saw the back of a young lady that looked like she had just come from the dinner where he had been running towards the back of the boat. His manners told him he should get up and offer assistance, but his lethargic brain and body were not going to allow that.
Little did Raphael know that the combination of excessive alcohol and being outside in freezing conditions with nothing more than a thin shirt, was causing hypothermia to start taking hold of him and pulling him into an almost unconscious state. His eyes closed as his head rolled to the side.
Raphael felt a little guilty that he hadn't explained this fact to Lillian before dinner. He half expected Mildred to say something, but she was too caught up in chatting with the table. He didn't want to say anything aloud that would call attention to Lillian's lack of knowledge when it came to fancy dinners. He offered her a warm smile when she seemed to catch on and started leaving some of the food on the plate.
The dinner had been going smoothly thus far, but that was when the sixth course arrived in the form of a beverage. He saw the way Lillian was eyeing the glass with a confused look on her face. Raphael, wanting to show off his sophistication, took up the glass and gave Lillian a smooth smile. "It's meant to cleanse the pallet," he said as he lifted the glass to his lips and took a large swallow. With the liquid still in his mouth, one of his eyes squeezed shut in a squint. His head turned slightly to the side and his lips puckered. It wasn't that the concoction was unpleasant in general, but to Raphael, who was not a fan of orange juice and alcohol, it hit unpleasantly. "Ugh," he almost grunted as his face relaxed and he looked down into the innocent looking glass. "Not for me."
Anthony, who had been watching Raphael's reaction chortled to himself. "You are so sensitive, my friend. It can't be that bad if it's served to us." Despite his confident talk, the sip he took was measured and cautious. He licked his lips and held the glass in his hand to look at it before he took a slightly bigger sip. "It's very sweet." He ran his tongue over his lips a few times, "And bubbly." He set the glass down on the table next to Raphael's. "It's not that bad," he said with a shrug as his attention turned to Mildred and Lillian.
Anthony was never shy to tease Mildred on things he knew would embarrass her. "Come now, Milly. Try it out and let's see if you make the same face as Raph." He smiled playfully at her, his eyebrows lifting once and then relaxing as he dared her in his way. "And you, Lillian." Anthony nudged Raph with his elbow, "You can handle yourself better than our lord here." Anthony stood, wandered away from the table then and could be seen conversing with a server. What they were talking about was unclear, but he was motioning to the orange filled glasses on the man's tray.
Lillian didn’t know what to think. On the surface, it appeared to be some kind of frozen drink, with scents that were both familiar and unfamiliar. At first, blue eyes looked up to see what Raphael’s reaction to it was, as that had so far gotten her through the meal. He said that it was something to cleanse the pallet, whatever that might’ve meant, but she watched as he dared to try it. She looked at Mildred, who was watching with the same fascination.
When Raphael finally did taste it, he gave a reaction that made Lillian blink and swallow the giggle. She didn’t want him to think she was laughing at him, but Mildred did it for her. Her contagious laughter floated easily across the table, though it softened when she looked at Anthony. “Oh come now, it cannot be that horrific, Raphael.” Mostly, Mildred was basing this off of Anthony’s reaction, rather than Raph’s. However, with a brave face, she lifted the cup to her lips. She looked almost confused at first, and smacked her lips just once as if trying to decide the flavour, though it was her eye twitching that may have betrayed her. “It’s very…..tart. But not as bad as expected. Lillian?”
With eyes on her now, Lillian felt that minor pressure again. She realized it was not malicious, but it still felt strange to have their eyes on her. “Oh, alright,” She said softly, her gloved fingers reaching out for the glass. She took a shallow breath, then brought the cup to her lips. She wasn’t even sure she could describe the flavor if she tried. It wasn’t nearly as bad as she had anticipated, but beyond the rum, she wasn’t sure of much else in it, and rum wasn’t exactly attached to the best memories.
She quickly set the cup down again, her face twitching lightly before she looked back up. “Is….is it supposed to taste like….alcohol?” She asked this quietly, genuinely curious but also slightly afraid that this would be a stupid question. “And is it required that I finish it?” As Anthony made his way back to the table, something about that question would cause a flash within Lillian’s eyes.
Raphael smiled warmly at Lillian and reached over to take her glass. "No, Lillian, you don't have to finish it. I know I will not be." He set her glass next to his as Anthony rejoined the table. Lillian breathed a sigh of relief when he told her that she did not have to finish it. She watched as he reached over to take the glass, just as Anthony began to speak.
In his most take charge tone he addressed the small group of friends. "I have solved the mystery of the sixth course. It is called Punch Romaine," he smirked a little at his own cleverness. "But the contents explains why our young Lord here does not care for it." He placed one of his hands on Raphael's shoulders and went on to give the ingredients of the drink. Champagne - Raphael detested champagne; a fact Anthony and Mildred knew well - white wine, fruit juices - today's was orange juice - and white rum with a simple sugar glaze. "It is meant to act like a sorbe, but boozy." Anthony beamed at his own genius.
Raphael glanced over at his friend and smacked him gently on the back in a form of mock congratulations. "You should think about a career as a detective if your political career fails." Raphael sat back down in his seat as Anthony removed his hand from his shoulder.
As to be expected, Raphael was more interested in Lillian than anything else. Curiously he asked, "Out of the ingredients, which do you think disagreed with you?"
When asked, her thoughts broke as she considered the glass again, as smoothly as if she had been born to be here. However, her voice did lower just a touch for them. “Well, I’ve never had champagne before. But I….I think it might be the rum. Never had good experiences with it.” And that was all Lillian would say on that subject.
Anthony, not able to resist giving away something he thought was funny about Raphael, looked at Lillian and explained. "Lord LaBlanc here is repelled by champagne. It stems from an event when we were quite young.”
Raphael put a hand out towards his friend. "Anthony. No one need hear that story. You know Mildred does not appreciate it."
Anthony laughed, "That's only because she was one you vomited on."
Luckily for her, Anthony then brought up a very interesting story as to why Raphael might have disliked the drink. She heard a small groan beside her from Mildred, who seemed to remember quite clearly what it was Anthony and Raphael were talking about. But there was something about the way Anthony said it. “Hold on, she was one you vomited on? Now I must know, how many people exactly did you vomit on?” Maybe it wasn’t the best dinner subject, and in no way did she want anyone embarrassed, but this, once more, came down to the differences in their class, and in this one, Lillian honestly hadn’t any idea what might be appropriate or inappropriate.
Mildred, however, sighed lightly as she looked over to Lillian. “All you need to know, darling is that story does not need to be repeated for the millionth time. And we know he did not mean too. But we learned a little something about tolerances that night, didn’t we?” Her eyes were kind and her laugh was bright, but she did look semi-darkly at Anthony. “But point of quarry, why is it you love telling that story so much? You got in more trouble than any of us!”
“Oh I did. Very much. But that doesn’t make it any less hilarious.” Anthony teased back, his eyes watching Mildred’s face with that adoring little expression. “But if we let her know….”
Mildred did not look impressed, but it was hard for her to stay mad at Anthony. She looked between Raphael, Lillian and Anthony, and couldn’t help the small roll of her eyes, and looked over at Raphael. “Okay, okay. Since I think you guys make the perfect couple, and I don’t think Raphael will be bringing anyone else around, you can tell this story one more time.”
Raphael, blushing maroon, as one of the most humiliating indiscretions of his youth was about to be laid bare to his Lillian, complete with Anthony’s colorful commentary. All of their eyes were on him in anticipation of the story he was going to tell. Mildred always huffed about the telling of the story as it was one of Anthony’s favorites, but despite her having the ability to shut both the boys up, she usually let the story be told. Raphael believed she liked to act more offended than she actually was. When the story was over, she would be laughing as hard as anyone else. Raphael shifted in his chair to start the story, his eyes flitting between Lillian who the story was being told for, and Mildred who was the other main player in the tale. “The story begins at…”
As Lillian leaned in to settle down for this story, with the confusion of Mildred’s words of ‘perfect couple’, across the room, another pair of eyes was watching with deep intent. And deep fury. Meredith sat with her mother, fuming as she watched Raphael, Anthony and even the mousy Mildred all laugh with her. With that dirty little sewer rat. Not at. They didn’t humiliate her, like Meredith wanted too. They didn’t shun her, like they should have. No, that little blond rat sat in a borrowed dress that she couldn’t afford if her entire life depended on it.
Meredith’s thoughts were ripped at the seams at the sharp, nearly barking laugh of her mother. “And what in God’s name are you laughing at?” She snapped.
Her mother, a cruel woman by nature, looked over at her daughter. “Why, you, Meredith. Your chances of marrying that boy are slipping away faster and faster with each laugh, and what are you doing about it?” Coldly, the woman looked at her daughter with malice in her face. “Nothing. You’re doing absolutely nothing while that girl steals every chance you’ll ever have of him looking at you.”
The glass shook in Meredith’s hand. “Oh, no. She won’t.” She muttered under her breath, and feeling the disappointing, stinging sensation of her mother’s eyes, she stood and stormed over to the table, where she picked up on the word ‘story.’ Coolly, calmly, she walked confidently up to the table, making sure to stand between Raphael and Anthony, as if both of them were dedicated to her, rather than the women who sat here. But as she spoke, the voice and tone she used was enough to make even Mildred look at her differently, “A story? Why, I’d be delighted to hear a story. What story?” But these words were dangerous, and everyone but Lillian knew it.
The words Raphael had began to speak got stuck in his throat as the most unpleasant and unwelcomed voice slithered into their circle. Raphael turned his head just enough to make eye contact with Anthony, who looked just as unhappy as himself. Meredith’s presence loomed in the space between Raphael and Anthony. Raphael felt a movement on the back of his chair, Meredith’s hand perhaps. He didn’t care to look. He huffed and addressed the wicked girl who was truly cruel to Mildred and just as cold toward Lillian. “Meredith,” he said coldly. “And what brings to over to our table. There are no chairs available.”
Mildred hadn’t stopped staring at Meredith, especially as the tone of Meredith’s voice was high and what could only be described as ‘sugary.’ It was fake, that she knew, but what Mildred couldn’t figure out was why. Leaning back lightly in her chair, her eyes nearly on fire as she watched Meredith attempt to touch both Raphael and Anthony. “Yes, Meredith. What is it you could possibly want?” She asked as well, her voice hardening with each word.
Meredith looked at Raphael when he informed her there was no chairs. For a split second, she considered her options, and then, shockingly, she simply let herself slide into Raphael’s lap, enjoying the flare of jealousy that lined Lillian’s eyes, and the look of shock in the others faces. It was a bold, bold move for a young lady in these times, but desperate times call for desperate measures. “Raphael, darling.” She let herself make a small show of leaning against him, ignoring Mildred entirely, as if this entire situation was the norm. “You may as well tell your story. After all, I will find out everything about you once we’re married.”
That word hit Lillian like a hammer. She felt her fists curl under the table, but the sparkle in the corner of her eye reminded her this was not third class. And the burning in her arms as her hands tightened reminded her that she was not ready for a fight. Lillian was not usually a fighter, in fact she was the exact opposite, but when it came to Raphael, something in her wanted to protect him against this vile addition. She knew he hated Meredith, he had made that extremely clear last night in the staircase, but she didn’t know what would be appropriate. So she looked at Raphael, her eyes asking the question her mouth didn’t know.
Mildred, however, was not about to tolerate that. Her mouth initially opened in the breath she took, but before she could actually get the words out, she saw that glint in Raph’s eye, and trusting him, decided to wait just a moment longer. Rather than saying anything, knowing Raphael was about to handle this, Mildred’s hand slid over to Lillian’s in the way of comfort and support, but her lips twitched lightly as she heard Raphael start to speak.
As much as Lillian didn’t want too, she couldn’t help but watch as Meredith made herself extremely comfortable on Raphael’s lap. She found herself squeezing Mildred’s hand as she felt her reach out, but she couldn’t seem to make herself look away. She made herself draw a deep breath, but it was stolen straight from her lungs as Raphael spoke. Raphael’s arms lifted the moment Meredith had the audacity to sit down in his lap. As his head turned away in disgust, he caught the eye of his mother who had turned red with rage. He lifted one of his hands to let her know he was going to take care of it. Meredith calling him darling and mentioning marriage made him furious and act little hastily. “Married?” he asked in an almost insulted way. “How am I to marry you when I have already asked Lillian to be my wife?” His gaze turned from revulsion to bliss as he looked across the table to Lillian. He rested his arm onto the table and extended it towards Lillian.
Anthony had been looking at Raphael with a combination of relief Meredith had not picked his lap to sit in and dread for his friend whose lap she had chosen. He was shocked at her boldness and was offended for his friend. His eyes left Raphael and Meredith to try and keep Mildred calm as he knew the history between the two women and the disdain. However, Raphael caught him off guard completely when he opened his mouth. Anthony’s head snapped back to Meredith for he had to see the look on her face.
For a moment, Lillian was not sure what she heard. Meredith, however, heard it crystal clear. She stiffened against Raphael’s lap, and then made a sound that was a laugh of disbelief. “You cannot possibly mean that. I mean, she’s—, Raphael, you cannot be serious.“
“But he is. He did ask me, not long ago. I, of course, said yes.” Lillian spoke suddenly and calmly, encouraged by the squeezing of Mildred’s hand, and not really wanting to hear what new colorful words Meredith might have. When she saw Raphael’s hand moving towards her, Lillian did not hesitate to set her hand within his, holding his for strength, and feeling the spark of love she had been hoping wasn’t an illusion. Lillian didn’t understand that this, especially in this circle, was as serious as a heart attack, but for her, she just assumed that this was their ultimate way to get her to go away. “And…”
Seeing Lillian struggle for words, Anthony smoothly slid forward in his chair, raising his glass as Meredith’s face rose in color, and rage. “And it’s already been approved by my father. So, if you wouldn’t mind removing yourself from my friend, I think all of us would prefer you…be anywhere else.”
“Approved by your father?” Meredith’s voice broke into a sharp, humorless laugh that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Well then, I suppose congratulations are in order.” The words were sweet as venom. Her gaze flicked between Lillian and Raphael, lingering on their joined hands before settling on Anthony with a look that could curdle wine. “You all move so quickly when it comes to replacing what you can’t control.” She rose from Raphael’s lap with the kind of grace that came from years of hiding fury behind poise, and added in a tone dipped in sugar, “Enjoy your little victory, Lillian. I do hope you know how easily they tire of their toys.” As she walked around the table, she got close enough to Lillian to add, for her alone: “Which is all you’ll ever be, you little rat.”
Meredith’s words rang over and over again in Lillian’s mind, almost making her miss Anthony’s reaction. She shook her thoughts out of her head as she focused in on Anthony almost throwing Raphael out of his chair in the tackle, which brought a laugh out of her. Beside her, as the men were speaking, Mildred’s expression was huge, bright and amazed as she turned towards Lillian. “Why didn’t you tell me?! Oh my goodness, this is so exciting!”
“I was just…taking the time to consider properly.” Lillian didn’t really know how to respond, but thankfully, Raphael’s voice cut through the rest of the noise. She turned to smile at him, grateful he was still there.
Raphael missed Meredith’s pause at Lillian’s shoulder as Anthony had practically tackled him in his chair. “You didn’t tell me you had already done it, you sly fox.” Raphael laughed as he tried to push Anthony off him while trying not to fall out of his chair – that would be a sight.
The commotion at the other end of the table drew the attention of the adults from their conversation. They started chatting about what the “children” could possibly be on about. Lady Gabrielle thought she knew and was studying faces. All were laughing and happy at the moment, but she noticed Lillian’s face start to show a little doubt.
Once Anthony had released Raphael from his congratulatory squeeze, Raphael got up and went around the table to Lillian. He offered his hands to her and pulled her out of her chair to look at him. “I was so worried you would run if I said that out loud.”
“Why ever would I run?” At this point, Lillian still thought that the three of them were just sticking with the act of the marriage for Raphael’s sake, so it didn’t surprise her that he walked over and helped her out of the chair, so she could stand and face him. But she was not prepared for the words he said next.
Raphael had meant what he said. It hadn’t been a grand proposal, but it was his proposal. He gripped her hands more firmly in his. “I swear, Lillian, I will be a good husband to you.” He licked his lower lip as he rushed to continue. “I will cherish you every day. And show you that I am worthy of your love and your hand.” He smiled so big it felt like his skin was stretching far too much. “I love you, Lillian.”
What did surprise her, what even truly stunned her were the following words. He loved her. He wished to marry her. For a moment, her mind simply refused to understand the meaning. Then, as the truth of it settled in, as it sank deep into her brain that none of this had been the joke she thought it was, the air seemed to vanish. The room shrank, its walls pressing close as though the fine papered panels themselves sought to crush her. Her chest tightened until she could scarcely draw breath, her heart thrumming so violently it hurt. Every beat felt like a blow. A cold, prickling heat swept over her skin; her hands trembled in his, the lace at her cuffs quivering with the movement. “You..what? How?” It was the only question she found herself able to ask.
He said he loved her. Her. A woman who had crawled from filth and bruises, from the screams and fists of a man who called ownership love. A woman who flinched at kindness, and was confused by gentleness. And now this. This golden creature of silk and pure gentility was promising her safety, kindness, and devotion. Her head filled with the roaring of her pulse, the blood rushing in her ears until she could no longer hear his voice, or anything else. The light in the room dimmed, then narrowed; all she could see was his mouth moving, his hand reaching, and the terrible, suffocating thought that it would all turn the same, regardless of the beginning. That he would tire of her, that the sweetness would curdle and turn to venom, that the cage would only be lined with velvet this time. Her breath caught, sharp and thin. Her vision spotted. For one dreadful instant, she thought she might fall dead away from the sheer impossibility of being loved by such a man, and the terror that came with it.
“Raph, what?” She wasn’t actually sure she said this out loud, but it was at that moment that Mildred touched her, making her jump lightly as she turned to face her beaming smile, and the sudden crowd of women she found herself surrounded with. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Raph get pulled away by Anthony, and who she could only assume was Anthony’s father, but Lillian didn’t hear anything that any of them said. Not over the static and ringing that had replaced her actual hearing.
Raphael was blinded by happiness and love. To Lillian it might seem strange that he would use the word love so quickly. But Raphael was raised by parents who were romantics themselves. Who had there own hurtles to overcome when his father proposed to his mother – Raphael saw his situation as being not much different. He knew he was not looking for someone who was going to think him perfect or tell him he was right when even he knew he was wrong. He did not want a woman who would throw away her own identity just to gain a title. He did not know that much about Lillian, but he was certain she would never lose herself in jewelry or the glamour. She would remember her beginnings, and she would never be afraid to push back against him when he was being stubborn or being short sighted. But, above all else, he saw his future with Lillian. He could see himself being a doting and loving husband to her in ways he could never have envisioned when he had only been exposed to debutantes like Meredith. Lillian was his match.
So, when Lillian froze and she was barely able to question him, he assumed she had been struck with the same wave of delight as himself. He imagined he had taken her breath away. He told himself that the trembling of her hands was not fear, but excitement. He had found his future in her, and he hoped she was seeing hers with him.
He had no opportunity to ask her, as he felt Anthony’s hands on his shoulders just as Mildred was touching Lillian. The sexes were to separate them now – women with women, men with men – he knew they would come back together before long. That belief was the only way he was able to release her hands and turn from her to greet the Grand Duke who he took the congratulations from humbly.
Across the table, Lady Gabrielle could see the overwhelming feeling that came over Lillian’s eyes. Her son didn’t, as he was too happy to see it, and he unwittingly left her to the vultures as he wound up pulled away from her by the group of men that were just behind the women. And oh, did the women flock. Starting with Mildred, followed by every other young lady that had an ounce of respect, and then their mothers. Lady Gabrielle heard the question of the ring over and over again, but Lillian didn’t have an answer. Even if she had, with how pale she was going, and how light her eyes were turning, Lady Gabrielle wasn’t sure how much longer she might be able to fend off the wolves. In the middle of her own conversation, she paused and excused herself to rescue Lillian. She stood elegantly, the fabric of her dress whispering lightly as she moved towards the crowd.
Upon reaching Lillian, Lady Gabrielle gently parted the crowd. “Excuse me, ladies. I need a word with my future daughter in law.” She gave no further explanation, but she did exchange a look with her husband before taking the stunned girl towards the door. Before they could exit, Lady Gabrielle ran almost straight into a girl in a dark orchid dress with gorgeous white hair.
The white haired girl took a half step back before realizing it. “Oh, excuse me, milady. Is this the first class dining hall?” The girl asked in a thick English accent.
Lady Gabrielle, still holding onto Lillian, nodded. “Yes. You’re a little bit late, but we’ve just started the sixth course.” But the girl only thanked Lady Gabrielle before she headed further in, while the other two women left the room entirely.
Lillian could barely hear the words being said between the two, but she could feel Lady Gabrielle’s gentle hand on her arm. She didn’t speak as she followed Lady Gabrielle back up the stairs, each step heavy, and loud inside Lillian’s head. The next time a clear, coherent thought passed in her brain, she found herself standing in the LaBlanc’s stateroom, with his mother staring at her. She gasped softly, terror crawling in every vein. “Milady, please..”
“It’s quite alright, Lillian. You looked like you needed out of there.” Lady Gabrielle said as she sat on the sofa, patting the spot next to her. Lillian didn’t dare disobey, and sat quietly next to her. “So, my son has proposed. But I must know, was it foolish of him to do so?”
“I didn’t think he meant it! I just thought— I…I.” Overwhelmed, Lillian dropped her head into her hands, trying to separate logic from fear.
“He had professed his love. To you, and us. These are not words our family takes lightly, Lillian. And he would give you everything you could ever have dreamed of. And more, should you accept.” Lady Gabrielle’s words were gentle, and kind. Which made them even more terrifying to Lillian. “However, as his mother, I do not wish to see my son tormented. If you are not serious about him, or have any doubts, then you must break it off. I will ensure that he stays away from you, if these are your wishes.”
To Lillian, these words were both choice and trap. It sounded so official. So business like. Like a contract, a transaction just to be made. She hadn’t any idea that the beauty and love she saw in this family reached as far inside as it did outside, and this was just how families like this operated when it came to marriage, but how could she? She had known him for a day. Raphael had told her that his parents were dead set on a marriage, but to her? The poor, dirty, third class girl with absolutely nothing to offer anyone? Realizing the silence was pressing, Lillian finally looked up at Lady Gabrielle. “My wishes?” She murmured to herself. “Milady, please do not think me ungrateful. The time I have spent here has been…the happiest of my life.” But her expression turned dark, and fearful once more. “But I have just left my home. Fled it, more like. I have nothing to offer. I have never had a choice, a freedom, or anything of my own that wasn’t forcefully taken. I must apologize, but you too must understand. I do not doubt Raphael, nor his intentions. He is a wonderful man, and nothing I know of him leads me to believe otherwise. But I just left a home where I was…” It still hurt too much to even say it aloud. “ And it has been not even two full days. This is too much at once.”
Lady Gabrielle listened. She listened carefully, and she listened closely. Lillian was terrified of something, or someone. In truth, Lady Gabrielle thought she might be terrified of just about everything, but she also understood on a deeper level than that. She nodded slowly. “I understand. My foolish boy will always be apt to disappointment and sorrow when he rushes into things headfirst.” She said softly to herself, before turning to Lillian once more. “I know not of what your circumstances are,” She paused as she thought of the extreme bruising all over Lillian’s body, and although her instinct was still to rush the girl to the nearest hospital wing, she knew she couldn’t force that. “But you are free to go. You may go and make your choices, Lillian. I will keep Raphael away from you, but please remember that you will still be welcomed in this family, should you ever need us.”
Standing to rejoin the dinner, she made it to the door before she turned back to see Lillian, sitting in the couch, wound as tight as a piano string and just as ready to snap. Hoping to put some ease in the girl, Lady Gabrielle added; “Oh, and please, keep what you’re wearing, all of it. It is his gift to you. Keep safe, my dear, but remember what I said.” Closing the door then, she sighed deeply, and sadly, as she turned to go and break her wayward son’s heart.
--
Raphael, being the son of an important man, was no stranger to attention albeit limited but attention none the less. However, the amount of attention he received overwhelmed even him. Anthony's father, the Grand Duke, coming over to him was one thing, they had known each other for years. But there were faces coming up to him with congratulations that he had never seen before, nor were they at his table. Just as Lillian was swarmed, so was Raphael, though the conversation was much different.
The questions that were being asked in a frenzy around Raphael were questions he hadn't been prepared to answer. "Whose daughter is she so we can offer our congratulations to them?" "Where are her parents? Did you not think to invite them?" Where's her lady's maid, she can fetch them." Raphael must have started getting the deer in the headlights look as his father was altered to his son's distress and came over to rescue him.
"Gentlemen!," he said in his polite yet controlling way. "Let the boy breath. Surely you remember how nervous you were when you first got engaged." Lord Sebastian's statement quieted the men and they started talking amongst themselves as Lord Sebastian led Raphael away from the group to speak privately with him.
With one of his strong arms resting on Raphael's shoulders, Sebastian leaned in close and spoke secretly with his son. "We asked you to wait, Raph. Remember? Your mother and I wanted to get to know her better before we announced the proposal so we could navigate these questions. Do you want something as joyous of your engagement to be wrapped in scandal?”
Raphael, now that his nerves were settling, was able to think rationally. "It was stupid and impulsive, I know...but I meant it. I really did, father."
"I know you did, son. Your mother and I know you meant it. We have seen the change in you. And we support the engagement. But son," his voice dropped to that 'I'm disappointed in you' tone, "there are certain ways we need to make announcements. Preparations to be made. Stories to have straight."
Sebastian wasn't trying to crush his son, but this is exactly what they had wanted to help control by requesting the engagement wait a day or two. He looked at his son, "Your mother has taken Lillian back to the room to speak with her."
The color in Raphael's face returned and his eyes brightened. "Will she give Lillian the ring?"
Sebastian was trying to keep Raphael calm. "Your mother is going to get the story straight and, if everything works out, Lillian will be given the ring, yes. But, son...when they get back, don't rush the girl. Keep your composure and be her strength."
Raphael understood and felt a sense of pride straighten his shoulders and fill chest. "I understand, father."
By the time Lord Sebastian and Raphael rejoined the men, the conversation had moved on. Most of the men had moved back their seats, while Anthony had joined Mildred and the group of giggling girls. Raphael didn't want to join either group. He hovered by his chair with his eyes fixed on the door in anticipation of their return.
When one is anxious or excited about something even a minute can feel like an eternity. Raphael had no idea how many eternities he stood there for but he straightened when he saw his mother return to the dining hall. He smiled warmly and then searched the emptiness for Lillian. When she didn't appear, Raphael turned his attention back to his mother. She gave the slightest shake of her head and Raphael's world fell completely apart.
Before Lillian could even begin to explain, or call her back, or stop her in any way, Lady Gabrielle had left the room. In the silence, Lillian felt the screaming in her chest, the vast emptiness that immediately surrounded her. Her breath was sharp as glass as she inhaled it, or tried to, given the fact she wasn’t sure she remembered how to breathe. It was overwhelming, what was being offered to her. It was insanity, surely, to marry a man she had just met, the day after meeting him. Gods, she hated how transactional this felt. It went from meeting him to learning him, then it felt like they skipped about other nineteen steps to land at proposal.
Lillian couldn’t breathe, and pushed herself to her feet, moving to the door. There, she paused as she let watery blue eyes sweep around the glittering room. But it wasn’t the glitter she saw. It was Raphael, sitting there, serving her a pear. It was them laughing and deciding to go explore. It was the moment she took his arm for dinner. The sound that left her was a sob masked as a sigh, but she felt the tear roll down her cheek as she closed the door behind her. She paused momentarily when she got to the hallway, torn between which way to go. Half of her wanted to run back to the dining hall, but she was well aware that showing up like this, and doing so could cause a chain of reactions she wasn’t ready for, and she didn’t want the LaBlancs to deal with either.
Instead, in some half cocked idea of saving them any more embarrassment from her, she did start towards the stairs, intending on taking them back down to her room, but her journey was abruptly interrupted by the older gentleman she had met when she had boarded. She halted in her tracks as she recognized him, almost having stepped in his path as he ascended the stairs, and tried to step around him with a simple; “Excuse me, sir.” But, for the third time in three days, a person reached out and grabbed her like she was a possession, only this time, there was nobody around to save her.
The older man grabbed her arm, turning her to face him as he grinned. “Well, excuse me. Hold on, little one. I didn’t think you’d be working up here yet, but.” His eyes, greedy and selfish, roamed her body while he pulled her closer, and didn’t once look her in the face. “My offer still stands, if you are looking for something quick. I promise I wouldn’t hurt you.”
Disgust crawled up Lillian’s back as she listened to his offer. His hand gripping her arm hurt, but she had had just about all she could take tonight, and this man, this interaction, was not making it any better. It was a small struggle, and it sent a small shock of pain through Lillian’s arm, but she managed to pull her arm away without resorting to screaming. Barely. “I said no before, and I say no now. Now good night!” She snapped at him through the beginning of sobs, before she turned and ran away from him and the stairs.
This, however, left the opportunity for someone else to slip into the fold. Mary, a busybody little woman with a nose for gossip, who was as false as a wooden leg, and ridiculously loyal to Meredith Alexander, approached the gentleman, and in a sweet, kind tone, asked: “Excuse me, sir. Might I inquire, who was that?”
Although it was not custom for a lady’s maid to address someone other than another servant, it was not entirely unheard of, and this time, overlooked and answered, as the answer was simple. “Who, her? Ach, she is nothing but a prostitute. Better stay away, I say.” He said as if he quite literally hadn’t just tried to proposition her.
To Mary, this was exactly the news she wanted to hear. As she thanked the gentlemen, and helped him on his way, the only thing Mary could do as she continued to follow Lillian was grin, thinking about how Meredith was going to receive this piece of news.
Lillian, unaware anyone was following her, let the previously gained knowledge of the floor guide her feet while her mind now worked through fears, what actually happened, and now disgust. She ran until she hit the back stairs, the one actually used by third class passengers to get up to their common rooms, but didn’t make it down them as she ran into yet another person.
Ashley, who had been on his way up for a drink with Lillian on his mind, was surprised and delighted when he saw her running by. But he grew both curious and concerned when he saw the tears in her eyes. “Lillian!” He watched as she stopped, looking around for the voice. He caught up to her quickly, but his smile faded when he got closer and realized how upset she was. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”
Simply too upset to form that many words, and considering that he was currently sober and being nice, Lillian only sobbed in response, which made Ashley do the only thing he could think of. He pulled her into a hug, which she allowed and reciprocated by hugging him back as she cried into his chest. Ashley didn’t get any of the words she said, but he guessed by the tone and situation that something had gone wrong with the rich guy, which in the back of his head meant, he still had a shot if he played this right. “Hey, shhh. It’s okay. Come on, come with me. We can talk about it.” His voice was gentle, but he had no intention of listening. She, of course, didn’t need to know that as she let herself be guided into the third class common rooms, where she still couldn’t see much.
In the hall, watching with that hawks eye, Mary stood, gaining every piece of information she could. ’So, that’s your secret.’ She thought as she watched them enter the common room together, and she saw just a glimpse of Ashley and Lillian sitting together before she turned, and headed back to the dining hall to report back everything she had seen.
Back in the dining hall, Raphael's heart raced and his vision shrunk to what seemed to him like a pinhole. Without causing a scene or bringing any real attention to himself, he left the table and began walking towards the door that led out of the dining room. By the door, there was an unmanned cart of spirits. As Raphael passed, he reached out and grabbed the neck of a rather large bottle of amber liquid and stepped out into the hallway.
Lady Gabrielle watched her son but knew better than to try and stop him. She had seen him like this before and knew he was in no position to listen. She knew from past experiences of major disappointment, Raphael would find a quiet place and sulk for a while. Once he had time to come to terms with his heartbreak he would return to their room and together they would start the healing process.
Lady Gabrielle joined her husband back at the table. Lord Sebastian had noticed his wife return alone and then his son exiting the dining hall. Like his wife, Lord Sebastian knew better than to chase his son. "What happened? Where is Lillian?"
Lady Gabrielle touched her husband's arm and looked into his eyes. "She wasn't ready for all this."
"So... that's it?"
Lady Gabrielle gave her husband a knowing look. "Don't count your ponies, my lord. It took me a while to come around, too."
Lord Sebastian chuckled as he remembered how Gabrielle had kept him waiting on pins and needles as she had considered his proposal. "Hopeful, then?"
"Let us just say, the young lady did not say 'No', only that it was too much for her." Lady Gabrielle took her seat and pulled her husband down by the wrist. "Let them both cool off and think. If it is meant to be, they will find each other again."
The couple excused away the absence of both Raphael and Lillian by saying they needed some time to talk.
While his parents discussed in the dining hall Raphael was bumping around in the hallways as he tried to remember if there were any stairways that would take him down. He knew the grand staircase didn't go down anymore from here, only up - but he didn't want to go up.
The amber liquid from the bottle he had swiped began to disappear at a faster rate than it should for an experienced drinker, which Raphael was not. He met dead ends and 'Staff Only' areas, which led him straight back to the grand staircase and up away from the dining hall. One floor up, and the bottle missing a third of its contents, Raphael was finally able to find the stair case he was looking for. He headed down at a pace swift enough that he was forced to lay off the bottle so he could keep up with his breathing.
He reached the floor he recalled her room was on from when he had walked her home the previous night. His vision was getting hazy as he had returned to taking generous drinks from the bottle as he made his way down the hallway.
He found the door he was...mostly sure was hers. He knocked on the door and, for good measure, called to her as well. "Lillian!" He knocked again and raised his voice. "Lillian!" He pressed his ear to the door and heard nothing. Some doors from down the hall opened and people peered out. Raphael, manners forward, acknowledged them and said almost timidly, "My apologies."
He turned away from the people in the hallway and headed back towards the stairs that had taken him down and started the climb back up. Going up took a lot longer than going down and there were a lot more stops to allow him to nurse from the bottle of amber liquid.
By the time he arrived back on the floor he had been on to take the stairs down he was deflated. Not knowing where to go now he started looking at the placards that addressed what each room was. He located a room entitled Second Class Library. He opened the door and stumbled in.
The room was empty save for a young lady at a far table who was much in the same state as himself - drunk. He focused on the table and recognized about a dozen of the glasses that contained the punch stuff that was the sixth course from the dining hall. 'No wonder she looks sick,' he thought to himself.
As the library doors groaned open, the young lady with the stunning white hair was slumped sideways in a chair like an exhausted Victorian goblin. Surrounded by a small wooden table and what appeared to be half a dozen glasses from the dining hall, she was more than half-asleep, or possibly half-dead. When the door creaked again, her sea-bright eyes cracked open just enough to glare at the intruder: the young Lord himself.
Earlier, while she’d been heroically collecting glasses, she’d overheard an entire parliament of noblefolk squawking about marriage. She hadn’t cared then. She didn’t care now. But she had seen enough ridiculous excitement to make her wonder what he was doing here at this hour. At least until she noticed the giant bottle in his hand, and her lips curled into a smirk. Ah. Celebration. To her, that explained the stride, the bottle, and possibly the dramatic entrance. And maybe his face, although she could barely see it.
Without a word, she peeled herself off the chair, shuffled to the slightly longer couch in the corner, and promptly flopped onto it, clearly prepared to sleep there for the rest of the night, or until the ship caught fire. Whichever came first.
—
In the common room, Ashley took the still sobbing Lillian, and promptly dumped her with Martha, their other roommate, and went off to get a drink. Martha, surprised to see her, and even more surprised to see her in this state, promptly pulled her down to sit. “Oh, my darling, what’s happened?” Martha asked in concern as she held the drink out to Lillian.
Lillian took it, and was eventually able to calm down enough to drink it, but she wouldn’t talk. She couldn’t. Her mind was struggling to process the events that just happened, from Raphael’s parents being so lovely, yet so terrifying, to Raphael’s proposal, to his beautiful circle of friends. She gasped as she thought of the conversation she and Raph had earlier. Would this affect his family? Oh god. She drank deeper from the cup, unable to pay attention to almost anything around her as the scenes just kept themselves on repeat over and over.
The cup kept somehow getting refilled, and Lillian didn’t know how much time had passed, but she had this sudden, almost consuming feeling that she was wrong. About all of it. Bits and pieces of conversations through the day circled, Mildred’s voice running in her head. ’Now watch it drop for you. I’ve never seen him happy like this. He doesn’t give girls his attention.’ , his parents voices proclaiming to the table how lovely she was, and Raphael himself, telling her that he would be a good husband. And that he loved her. She believed that, she realized. She didn’t know why, or how, or what, but like a force coming down, she just knew. “I have to go."
Lillian didn’t finish her sudden sentence. She was still in the dress, which meant she could get back onto the first class. She pushed her way out of the crowd of people, although she heard Ashley calling for her behind her.
---
Raphael, large half-empty bottle in hand, just wanted a place to sit and fall apart. The room had looked lonely, and he would have avoided entering if he had known anyone was inside. His eyes met hers as she looked up and towards the door. Neither of them spoke – it didn’t seem necessary. He was debating taking a seat at a different table as her or departing the room altogether – he knew his company would be grim at best and she looked ready to pass out.
When she rose from her chair at the table with the empty goblets littered over the top, Raphael stood daftly by the door and watched her curiously. She didn’t approach him, which he was thankful for, instead she wandered over to a couch and laid down. Raphael turned and looked over his shoulder to ensure no one was walking by to witness himself alone with a young lady who was about as intoxicated as he, lying on a couch in an empty room. This was not an added layer of scandal he wanted attached to his name on top of the rumors Meredith had already spread and his proposal being declined in front of the entire dining hall. He had no doubt he was already the laughingstock of the night.
Even though he was feeling particularly sorry for himself, his sense of empathy wasn’t swayed. He did approach the drunk girl on the couch who he could see was on the verge of unconsciousness. He placed the half-empty bottle on a table so he could remove his suit coat as he approached the couch she had claimed. He covered her with the suit coat carefully. It wasn’t as good as a blanket, but it was something and all he had to offer. He backed away from her and the couch once the coat was placed and left the library so he wouldn’t be caught there and assumptions made.
Upon exiting the library, Raphael he did not want to go up to B Deck. He really did not wish to run into anyone he knew. He wasn’t in the mood to explain himself or tell the story of his offer of marriage being rejected. He was embarrassed and heartbroken. Instead of heading towards the stairs that would take him to B Deck that will surely fill with people once dinner concluded, he instead decided to follow the seemingly endless stark white hallway that led away from the library. He had no clue where he would end up, which gave him a slight sense of adventure. He bumped into the walls a few times in this drunken state but managed to stay mostly upright and on his feet. He followed the hallway until he pushed through a door and found himself on one of the open aired decks of the ships.
The wind was cold and seemed to go straight through his white dress shirt. He crossed his arms over his chest and tucked his hands into his armpits. He should have turned to go back inside but his eyes were drawn to the back of the ship. His feet carried him towards the railing and the peacefulness of the ocean. As he got closer to the back of the boat, he spotted a plum of smoke coming up from one of the benches. Raphael slowed his steps, his eyes searching the bench to see if it might be someone he recognized.
As he got a little closer Raphael was able to see that this was not someone he knew. The young man was in common clothing and Raphael instantly felt safer than if it had been someone dressed in a tuxedo. As the young man was in Raphael’s line of view, when the young man looked up, Raphael was surely in his as well. To be friendly Raphael said politely, “You have the right idea, my friend. Find a quiet bench away from all the noise and just enjoy the stars.” Though Raphael didn’t realize it, his words were slightly slurred and he was wavering slightly from side to side, unable to stand upright.
The young man took another pull on his cigarette before nodding his head in agreement. “A man could get used to this.”
Raphael took another step closer so he could lean against the bench. “That looks like a warm coat,” he said as if just trying to make conversation.
With a small chuckled the young man replied, “We are out on the Atlantic Ocean, and it is close to freezing out here.” The young man eyed Raphael who was clearly dressed formally, minus the suit coat. “Did you forget your coat at the party?” it was obvious he was trying to be funny.
Raphael appreciated the humor and smiled. “No…” He looked out at the water over the back of the ship. “Parties over for me. I think…” Raphael looked down the open aired deck, “I think I might go find my own bench and see what the stars tell me. Good evening,” he said in parting as he moved away from the end of the boat to find himself a bench that spoke to him.
As he half stumbled, half walked along the deck, he passed up several perfectly wonderful benches that just didn’t appeal to him. Finally, he did find a bench he thought looked welcoming and stepped up to it. He sat down and then lay down and got himself comfortable. He had just got himself comfortable and had started looking up at the sky when there was the sound of running footsteps growing closer to him. By the time he sat up to look, he saw the back of a young lady that looked like she had just come from the dinner where he had been running towards the back of the boat. His manners told him he should get up and offer assistance, but his lethargic brain and body were not going to allow that.
Little did Raphael know that the combination of excessive alcohol and being outside in freezing conditions with nothing more than a thin shirt, was causing hypothermia to start taking hold of him and pulling him into an almost unconscious state. His eyes closed as his head rolled to the side.
Eros_Calls wrote:
We would enjoy feedback. If what you read grips you and you are curious to find out more, please let us know. We are not looking for grammar or punctuation editing comments (final edits still need to be done) but more what do you think about the story presented.
So I dare give a feedback.
And first, only this glimpse of the story tells me the amount of planification beforehand you must have endured. It is not easy to write a book, you just don’t ’write along’. Congratulations for that.
I don’t need to say that it is well written, you know it is.
First I missed a bit emotion, it felt like ‘flat’, but the more I read, the more these written emotions go crescendo into an apogee. And flatten out afterwards. This means it appears to be ment like that, and that’s real good point for your story and will keep the reader reading (if you allow this pleonasm).
We don’t know anything about what’s before this scene, even if there are some hints and signs clearly leading to a guess of what happened, but it’s surely fascinating and many (those who’d be allowed to read this ‘teaser’) might surely want to read the rest.
No, it’s a rich text, “bien ficelé” and ‘begging’ for more.
Thanks to both of you.
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