Post by narumei on Mar 12, 2008 3:26:28 GMT -5
Chapter 3 A Piece of Reece
John walked slowly back into the house. He was so confused, his emotions ready to spill over the edge. He didn’t know what to feel anymore. His feelings fought with each other, each trying to win him over to their side. He was saddened that he had to send away his only daughter, afraid that she hated him, worried that his wife was losing her mind, confused about who to believe, betrayed by his daughter, the one person he felt he could trust but most of all, he felt regret. The regret with in him threatened to consume him entirely. He regretted that he didn’t pay more attention to Abigail as she was growing up, and not listening to her needs and wants. He regretted that he couldn’t bring her up to be who she should be and regretted that he couldn’t protect her against her own mother. No, he regretted the fact that he there was a necessity to protect her against her mother.
“So, has she gone?” The familiar voice stirred him from his thoughts and he looked up to see Victoria in front of him. A feeling of anger that he didn’t notice before rose in him like a monster, dangerously filling his thoughts until he felt nothing else. He glared at Victoria with menace. She looked bored. She had expected him to be upset by this, after all, he and Abigail had seemed so close. But she didn’t expect this much hatred from him. She remained looking bored in an attempt to appear indifferent. “Well? Has she?” She repeated.
“Yes. And it’s entirely your fault.” He said, so quietly.
“My fault?” She snorted. “Hardly. You were the one who sent her.”
“And would you have let me be if I had not?” he fumed. “You planned this from the start. Abigail is wild, but we could have handled her. We didn’t need this!” She took a step back from him, edging closer to the door to the hall.
“No, she couldn’t have stayed. It was either me or her. You knew that, that’s why you sent her.” He started to yell a reply, but realised it was pointless. He turned on his heel and stormed out the room, tears spilling out from his eyes. He hated himself for it, but he knew that his wife was right. It had been his choice to send her away, and he couldn’t blame anyone but himself. He was thinking this and climbing up the stairs when suddenly a white handkerchief was thrust at him. He looked up, his vision blurred by tears, to see Nathaniel standing there, looking calm and collected, as he always did.
“Go ahead, it’s clean.” He said. John embarrassedly took it from him with out a word. “So, is she gone? Or have you decided to let her stay?” The answer was a big snort from his father as he blew his nose into the handkerchief. Nathaniel didn’t need a worded answer; the alien act of his father crying was answer enough. “How could you do that?” was all he said to his father. Then he leapt down the stair three at a time and ran out to the stables, slamming doors behind him. “STAN!” he bellowed, still running full pelt towards the stables.
“Ay, Sir?” Came a quick reply. Stan’s freckled face and orange hair popped out from above a horse that he had clearly been cleaning.
“My horse, now!” Nathaniel near shouted. He was puffing loudly when he arrived at the stables. He pulled on his riding boots and gloves while Stan hurried to tack up his horse. His horse had the same coloured hair as his sister and himself, a shiny jet black that gleamed even in darkness. He was a huge 18 hands and being so, was difficult to manage by most people. Nathaniel and Abigail had always had a way with horses, ever since they were given their first pony for their fourth birthday. They seemed to communicate with them and both horse and human were comfortable when they were together. Nathaniel had captured his horse as a colt from a string of wild horses three years before from an area just outside of London. Nathaniel suspected that his colt was the offspring of the male leader of the string, and equally black stallion and the female leader of the string, a deep chestnut mare. From a close study of his horse, he deduced that he was four years old, just finishing reaching adulthood, and almost completely grown. Now, three years later, his horse, named Noah, was seven years old and one of the finest hot-blooded stallions around. Big and strong he could run for miles with luggage and people on his back. He was best at sprinting, though, and could run faster than any horse Nathaniel had ever seen.
Stan run up to Nathaniel leading a confused Noah by the reins, the stirrups bouncing against his body with each step. Without waiting for Stan to stop Noah, Nathaniel grabbed the reins and the front of the saddle and launched himself up and over onto Noah. He thrust his feet into the stirrups and kicked his heels into Noah’s flanks; Noah reared and then launched himself into a speedy gallop out of the grounds and onto the road, startling passer bys. Nathaniel leant in close to Noah’s withers for extra speed and raced up the road towards Lady Maxine’s Academy for Girls, leaving clouds of dust in his wake.
“Now, Abigail, we need to decide on some basic rules and preferences before we fill out the paper work. Is that ok with you?” Lady Maxine asked Abigail, still in the white carriage.
“Yes, of course, that’s fine.” Abigail said back, still politely.
“Good, now, I gather from the way your parents talk about you that you are quite difficult to manage and the way you’re acting now is just for show, so that you prove them wrong or something. Am I correct?” She asked her coldly. Abigail, startled at the lady’s sudden change in tone answered quickly,
“I’m sure it was to begin with, but I’m finding that this new attitude suits me quite well. I can get a lot accomplished when I act this way.” She said, referring to the dismissal of Amelia. Maxine looked at her, studying her features closely
“You are quite beautiful, Abigail.” She said, “I think your future will be splendid if you act appropriately.” Abigail scowled.
“Yes, I’m sure it will.” Lady Maxine, missing the scowl, took that as a positive comment and smiled warmly. Abigail turned her head and the light that spilt through the carriage window caught on the red splash of colour in her hair.
“What is that?” Lady Maxine cried,
“What? What is it?” Abigail looked around, confused.
“No, child, you’re hair, that red streak!”
“Oh, it’s natural. It’s been there since I first had hair. It doesn’t grow out.”
“How peculiar.” Lady Maxine said.
“That’s one way to describe it.”
“Well, you should hide it. I want you looking and acting like a young lady. Will you do that?”
“Yes, of course.” Abigail said demurely.
“Then I’m sure we will get along brilliantly. Now, the rules are very basic.” She started, “Lessons start at 9 o’clock sharp, if you’re late, you will be marked absent and punished accordingly. Lights out at 8 o’clock. Dinner is served at 6:30, and breakfast at 8:00am, if you miss it, too bad. Your father has arranged that you have a maid in the house. She will have a small room next to yours. Not many girls in the house have a personal maid, most have to share amongst themselves with the other live-in maids hired by me. Last time I checked at total of only seven girls had their own maids. Your maid is only there to help you wash, dress and other light chores, nothing else. Am I clear?”
“Perfectly,” Abigail said quietly. The fight had completely gone out of Abigail. Knowing that not one member of her family supported her had done irreversible damage to her spirit. She didn’t want to fight anymore; she didn’t care what they did.
“Now, we need to discuss your preferences with subjects. Three base subjects are taught at my Academy, Basic Math, Science and Literature.” She said, barely needing to take a breath. Abigail could tell that Lady Maxine had given this speech many times before. “These you must study and have no choice in the matter.” She continued. “There are also a number of choice subjects from which you must pick three. In total you will learn six subjects, and will study on Monday through to Friday. Saturday is your day off and as Sunday is the Sabbath, you will attend the Academy’s Church and pray. You are strictly forbidden to leave the grounds on Sunday. Occasionally field trips will be organised for your lessons or for a break on Saturday. That is all the free time you are allocated. On top of your usual studies, two hours everyday will be devoted to studying social grace.” She paused for a lengthy breath, in which time Abigail groaned and buried her face in her hands in complete despair. She wouldn’t be able to live on such a strict schedule, and knew that she would suffocate being so restricted. Lady Maxine ignored her and pressed on, “The studies that you may choose from are; Music, Ancient History, Geography, Cooking, Horse Riding, Social Studies, French, Spanish or Art. Occasionally exceptional students are permitted to study more but their timetables don’t change, they must alternate attending the classes that clash and keep up with the work. I don’t think that will be you, so you don’t have to worry.”
“How many?” Abigail asked
“How many what?” Lady Maxine asked back,
“How many extra subjects can the student take, if they are allowed?” She said.
“Well, as many as they can handle, no-one has ever taken more than two extra ones though.” She told her. “You’re not seriously thinking of trying it? You haven’t had enough study to do that, besides, you are only staying for two years. It’s almost impossible for you to do that.”
“We’ll see.” Abigail said. Abigail despised the social grace part of the school, but felt significantly better at the opportunity to study history and horse riding. Abigail had already studied piano so she could read music, she wanted to know anything and everything about the world and longed to study music and geography. She saw cooking as useless to her, as she had already said that she would not be like her mother, who spends practically all day cooking. She needed the escape of horse riding but would die if she had to study Social Studies and could already French and a little Spanish, but seeing as she would have loved to advance her vocabulary for both languages they were very tempting also. She knew that she did need Art but it offered her an escape from boredom and loneliness and the opportunity to get lost in imagination. But she could only study the three. She was desperately trying to think of what would be most useful. Horse riding was a definite, she needed that escape, that exercise, or she knew she would wither away, but what to pick for the last two. So it came down to geography, history, art, French or Spanish.
“I would like to study Horse Riding, Geography and French please.” She said slowly, still contemplative. Maxine smiled at her.
“Done. Nice choices I must say, the latter two are very appropriate, but you are not a farm girl, nor have you need to ride a horse at all. You always have carriages at your disposal at all times, so why, if I may ask, do you choose Horse Riding?”
“I chose it because it isn’t a necessity,” she lied, “everything else is useful for someone like me, but horse riding is the one thing that can be a break for me.”
“You certainly thought ahead, didn’t you.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. “I’m glad you chose it, I’m sure you will find horse riding amusing.” Abigail raised her eyebrow at this very peculiar proclamation, but said nothing about it, and turned to look, unseeing, out the window. Lady Maxine followed suit and stared out the window.
“We’ve not long to go yet, dear. Another half hour should do it.” Abigail continued to look out the window, as if the lady had said nothing. She closed her eyes and prayed for strength.
John walked slowly back into the house. He was so confused, his emotions ready to spill over the edge. He didn’t know what to feel anymore. His feelings fought with each other, each trying to win him over to their side. He was saddened that he had to send away his only daughter, afraid that she hated him, worried that his wife was losing her mind, confused about who to believe, betrayed by his daughter, the one person he felt he could trust but most of all, he felt regret. The regret with in him threatened to consume him entirely. He regretted that he didn’t pay more attention to Abigail as she was growing up, and not listening to her needs and wants. He regretted that he couldn’t bring her up to be who she should be and regretted that he couldn’t protect her against her own mother. No, he regretted the fact that he there was a necessity to protect her against her mother.
“So, has she gone?” The familiar voice stirred him from his thoughts and he looked up to see Victoria in front of him. A feeling of anger that he didn’t notice before rose in him like a monster, dangerously filling his thoughts until he felt nothing else. He glared at Victoria with menace. She looked bored. She had expected him to be upset by this, after all, he and Abigail had seemed so close. But she didn’t expect this much hatred from him. She remained looking bored in an attempt to appear indifferent. “Well? Has she?” She repeated.
“Yes. And it’s entirely your fault.” He said, so quietly.
“My fault?” She snorted. “Hardly. You were the one who sent her.”
“And would you have let me be if I had not?” he fumed. “You planned this from the start. Abigail is wild, but we could have handled her. We didn’t need this!” She took a step back from him, edging closer to the door to the hall.
“No, she couldn’t have stayed. It was either me or her. You knew that, that’s why you sent her.” He started to yell a reply, but realised it was pointless. He turned on his heel and stormed out the room, tears spilling out from his eyes. He hated himself for it, but he knew that his wife was right. It had been his choice to send her away, and he couldn’t blame anyone but himself. He was thinking this and climbing up the stairs when suddenly a white handkerchief was thrust at him. He looked up, his vision blurred by tears, to see Nathaniel standing there, looking calm and collected, as he always did.
“Go ahead, it’s clean.” He said. John embarrassedly took it from him with out a word. “So, is she gone? Or have you decided to let her stay?” The answer was a big snort from his father as he blew his nose into the handkerchief. Nathaniel didn’t need a worded answer; the alien act of his father crying was answer enough. “How could you do that?” was all he said to his father. Then he leapt down the stair three at a time and ran out to the stables, slamming doors behind him. “STAN!” he bellowed, still running full pelt towards the stables.
“Ay, Sir?” Came a quick reply. Stan’s freckled face and orange hair popped out from above a horse that he had clearly been cleaning.
“My horse, now!” Nathaniel near shouted. He was puffing loudly when he arrived at the stables. He pulled on his riding boots and gloves while Stan hurried to tack up his horse. His horse had the same coloured hair as his sister and himself, a shiny jet black that gleamed even in darkness. He was a huge 18 hands and being so, was difficult to manage by most people. Nathaniel and Abigail had always had a way with horses, ever since they were given their first pony for their fourth birthday. They seemed to communicate with them and both horse and human were comfortable when they were together. Nathaniel had captured his horse as a colt from a string of wild horses three years before from an area just outside of London. Nathaniel suspected that his colt was the offspring of the male leader of the string, and equally black stallion and the female leader of the string, a deep chestnut mare. From a close study of his horse, he deduced that he was four years old, just finishing reaching adulthood, and almost completely grown. Now, three years later, his horse, named Noah, was seven years old and one of the finest hot-blooded stallions around. Big and strong he could run for miles with luggage and people on his back. He was best at sprinting, though, and could run faster than any horse Nathaniel had ever seen.
Stan run up to Nathaniel leading a confused Noah by the reins, the stirrups bouncing against his body with each step. Without waiting for Stan to stop Noah, Nathaniel grabbed the reins and the front of the saddle and launched himself up and over onto Noah. He thrust his feet into the stirrups and kicked his heels into Noah’s flanks; Noah reared and then launched himself into a speedy gallop out of the grounds and onto the road, startling passer bys. Nathaniel leant in close to Noah’s withers for extra speed and raced up the road towards Lady Maxine’s Academy for Girls, leaving clouds of dust in his wake.
“Now, Abigail, we need to decide on some basic rules and preferences before we fill out the paper work. Is that ok with you?” Lady Maxine asked Abigail, still in the white carriage.
“Yes, of course, that’s fine.” Abigail said back, still politely.
“Good, now, I gather from the way your parents talk about you that you are quite difficult to manage and the way you’re acting now is just for show, so that you prove them wrong or something. Am I correct?” She asked her coldly. Abigail, startled at the lady’s sudden change in tone answered quickly,
“I’m sure it was to begin with, but I’m finding that this new attitude suits me quite well. I can get a lot accomplished when I act this way.” She said, referring to the dismissal of Amelia. Maxine looked at her, studying her features closely
“You are quite beautiful, Abigail.” She said, “I think your future will be splendid if you act appropriately.” Abigail scowled.
“Yes, I’m sure it will.” Lady Maxine, missing the scowl, took that as a positive comment and smiled warmly. Abigail turned her head and the light that spilt through the carriage window caught on the red splash of colour in her hair.
“What is that?” Lady Maxine cried,
“What? What is it?” Abigail looked around, confused.
“No, child, you’re hair, that red streak!”
“Oh, it’s natural. It’s been there since I first had hair. It doesn’t grow out.”
“How peculiar.” Lady Maxine said.
“That’s one way to describe it.”
“Well, you should hide it. I want you looking and acting like a young lady. Will you do that?”
“Yes, of course.” Abigail said demurely.
“Then I’m sure we will get along brilliantly. Now, the rules are very basic.” She started, “Lessons start at 9 o’clock sharp, if you’re late, you will be marked absent and punished accordingly. Lights out at 8 o’clock. Dinner is served at 6:30, and breakfast at 8:00am, if you miss it, too bad. Your father has arranged that you have a maid in the house. She will have a small room next to yours. Not many girls in the house have a personal maid, most have to share amongst themselves with the other live-in maids hired by me. Last time I checked at total of only seven girls had their own maids. Your maid is only there to help you wash, dress and other light chores, nothing else. Am I clear?”
“Perfectly,” Abigail said quietly. The fight had completely gone out of Abigail. Knowing that not one member of her family supported her had done irreversible damage to her spirit. She didn’t want to fight anymore; she didn’t care what they did.
“Now, we need to discuss your preferences with subjects. Three base subjects are taught at my Academy, Basic Math, Science and Literature.” She said, barely needing to take a breath. Abigail could tell that Lady Maxine had given this speech many times before. “These you must study and have no choice in the matter.” She continued. “There are also a number of choice subjects from which you must pick three. In total you will learn six subjects, and will study on Monday through to Friday. Saturday is your day off and as Sunday is the Sabbath, you will attend the Academy’s Church and pray. You are strictly forbidden to leave the grounds on Sunday. Occasionally field trips will be organised for your lessons or for a break on Saturday. That is all the free time you are allocated. On top of your usual studies, two hours everyday will be devoted to studying social grace.” She paused for a lengthy breath, in which time Abigail groaned and buried her face in her hands in complete despair. She wouldn’t be able to live on such a strict schedule, and knew that she would suffocate being so restricted. Lady Maxine ignored her and pressed on, “The studies that you may choose from are; Music, Ancient History, Geography, Cooking, Horse Riding, Social Studies, French, Spanish or Art. Occasionally exceptional students are permitted to study more but their timetables don’t change, they must alternate attending the classes that clash and keep up with the work. I don’t think that will be you, so you don’t have to worry.”
“How many?” Abigail asked
“How many what?” Lady Maxine asked back,
“How many extra subjects can the student take, if they are allowed?” She said.
“Well, as many as they can handle, no-one has ever taken more than two extra ones though.” She told her. “You’re not seriously thinking of trying it? You haven’t had enough study to do that, besides, you are only staying for two years. It’s almost impossible for you to do that.”
“We’ll see.” Abigail said. Abigail despised the social grace part of the school, but felt significantly better at the opportunity to study history and horse riding. Abigail had already studied piano so she could read music, she wanted to know anything and everything about the world and longed to study music and geography. She saw cooking as useless to her, as she had already said that she would not be like her mother, who spends practically all day cooking. She needed the escape of horse riding but would die if she had to study Social Studies and could already French and a little Spanish, but seeing as she would have loved to advance her vocabulary for both languages they were very tempting also. She knew that she did need Art but it offered her an escape from boredom and loneliness and the opportunity to get lost in imagination. But she could only study the three. She was desperately trying to think of what would be most useful. Horse riding was a definite, she needed that escape, that exercise, or she knew she would wither away, but what to pick for the last two. So it came down to geography, history, art, French or Spanish.
“I would like to study Horse Riding, Geography and French please.” She said slowly, still contemplative. Maxine smiled at her.
“Done. Nice choices I must say, the latter two are very appropriate, but you are not a farm girl, nor have you need to ride a horse at all. You always have carriages at your disposal at all times, so why, if I may ask, do you choose Horse Riding?”
“I chose it because it isn’t a necessity,” she lied, “everything else is useful for someone like me, but horse riding is the one thing that can be a break for me.”
“You certainly thought ahead, didn’t you.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. “I’m glad you chose it, I’m sure you will find horse riding amusing.” Abigail raised her eyebrow at this very peculiar proclamation, but said nothing about it, and turned to look, unseeing, out the window. Lady Maxine followed suit and stared out the window.
“We’ve not long to go yet, dear. Another half hour should do it.” Abigail continued to look out the window, as if the lady had said nothing. She closed her eyes and prayed for strength.