Thread: Southern Girl [ Ariamella & Reydan ]

RE Southern Girl Ariamella Reydan Peach cobblers. He leaned back in his seat and laughed a little to himself. She had always had such a sweet tooth, Lucy Rayne, the sort of girl who would suck on sugar cubes after finishing her cup of tea. Would eat a little taste of honey with a spoon. You always were the sweetest of things he murmured, not caring how it sounded, too lost in the thoughts of peach cobblers and sugar mice. He closed his eyes slightly as she spoke, feeling the memory wash over him unbidden of soft, sweet, slightly sticky lips. Of hot summer evenings. Of Lucy Rayne, the only girl who had ever held his hear...... He stopped. Enough. He leaned forward again, nodding distractedly as she told him her desires. Virgil planned to indulge her today, to make himself feel a little better for how he had treated her before. That was the only reason, he had told himself this morning, but now, looking at her smile vivaciously, counting off her tasks on her small, delicate fingers, he wasn't so sure. Was he really trying to steal another moment from those sweet lips of hers? Then she mentioned his mother. Don't he said simply, his fingers pressing into the corners of his eyes, don't. His mother... She doesn't need to know anything. What would it do for her to know that whilst her youngest lies in an unmarked grave in Pennsylvania and her eldest languishes in disgrace in prison in Richmond until he his bailed, that only her middle son, the one who ran away, was doing well. He sat back, sorry for making the situation awkward, but still glad to have pinched that in the bud. His mother... The carriage went over a bump, his knees knocking slightly against her own. Virginia was lost to him now. Another world. Even though Lucille Rayne had appeared, as if blown in by a southern wind, and threatened to reattach all the old connections. As for having a beautiful wife....his mother had already approved of his first choice. Had never stopped approving of it even after he had left Virginia. Her letters from the war lay, read but unanswered, in his bureau drawer. Urging letters telling him to take Lucy back. To leave, if he could no longer stomach the South, for California or Europe or wherever, with his Southern Belle. He folded his hands in his lap, looking across at her knees. They were covered in her soft dress, fabric concealing the tender lines beneath. He had broken this girl's heart, his mother had told him, as sure as she had broken his. Was that true? They pulled up outside a stationers, and Virgil covered the purchases with a soft smile, before the moved on to the dressmakers. He sat in the outer-room whilst the fitting took place, flicking idly through a periodical. Something from Britain, talking of industry and commerce and everything so profoundly Northern. He read dozens of the things for work but now, in this gentile surrounding, the magazine seemed odd. Out of place. He wondered idly who had left it there. Would you like to see the dress on, Monsieur, before you purchase? said the fitter in what Virgil thought was quite an obviously fake French accent. He stepped into the room and paused, a sudden anger welling up in him. This was Camilla's doing. Wrapping her up, trussing her up, like another Northern girl. The dress was all high collar and corset and....wrong. Its wrong on her he said flatly. Monsieur? He saw Lucy turn to stare at him from the slight dais she was on for the fitting, unsure about what was happening. This lady is a Southern Belle, Madame he said softly, eyes fixed on Lucy's. She has hair like spun gold and skin like a sweet peach. This is all wrong on her. I agree, of course, Monsieur, but Madame Abernathy... I don't give a damn about Madame Abernathy today he said, a little more forcefully than he meant, but continued on. Mr Abernathy is paying, so Mr Abernathy says put something together that Mademoiselle Rayne is truly suited to. Then, slightly red in the face, he retired back out of the sunlit room.