Thread: Secrets and Lies (Sync & Mali)

...And after, we all took a trip up to the lake where my father and I tested our hand and trade at who could catch the most fish. Naturally of course, son did outwit father in such talent, but I shant boast of my achievements. Mm, really? Her voice was deeply laden in thick, heavy sarcasm, her gaze averting from him. She spotted her mother some distance away, watching like a mother hen hovering on her little baby. The look on Elsas face screamed of mercy, to be spared from her slow and impending death by this drole of a man who had no problems bragging about his achievements, though he seemed to think he was being entirely humble in his exploits. Her mothers returning expression was of desperate insistence, forcibly encouraging her daughter to play nice and continue humoring Mr. Abernathy even more. Elsa would rather pitch herself off the very balcony that she and Mr. Hawthorne had converse, an ironic twist of fate in fact considering she learned of such happiness on that balcony. Though she was set in her belief that Mr. Hawthorne would never be interested in her, even if it was just for convenience to spare them both the failure to comply to high society requirements, he seemed like a man who required a far more beautiful partner. Her mother often liked to remind her that Elsa took more after her father in handsomeness but lacked the true beauty of her to truly tempt men. Apparently she had enough of both to tempt a man once upon a time, and though he was the vilest of men on this planet, she was not entirely without. But strictly speaking on the type of men she was capable of attracting, none were respectable enough for her or her sizeable dowry. Yes, really in fact. I pride myself in such humility. She had to refrain from outright snorting, unbecoming of a true lady. You must really visit England. The women there He sighed almost dreamily. They are truly unlike any other. Sure, young American ladies such as yourself are a suitable alternative but true beauty, grace and elegance lies within the heart of it all, the original debutante tradition of London society and its beautiful ladies to gander. Such beautiful ladies His gaze dropped down to her and he so smoothly ran his fingers through the soft tendrils of her dark brown hair. A pity. Yellow hair is far more fetching. And that was truly the final straw. Purposely, her heeled foot stomped on his but she played it off an accident. Oh my! How clumsy of me! I apologize Mr. Abernathy, I suppose my talents in such dancing are quite a bit rusty. She played it off well and though he glared at her because he knew the truth, he did not say anything. Instead, a swarm of people and staff came to his aid and Elsa took the moment to slip away. Her mother attempted to follow her but the crowd that gathered around Mr. Abernathy in his aid--and to see what the little trollop of high society did this time--pooled too greatly and she was stuck among the crowd. Which allowed Elsa to escape out of the ballroom and go elsewhere. In a moment like this, she wished she could find Mr.Hawthorne. His charm, wit and ability to turn a phrase or even make her smile amidst the sharks and piranhas was magical. Elsa Lorelai Strathmore! But she did not get far unfortunately, just short of a mens drawing room, the door not entirely closed, before her mother finally caught up to her. Turning to look at the persistent woman who looked far too flustered, likely having fought her way out of that crowd to get to her daughter, she simply cast a look to her. Yes Mother, please use my full name, that shall make me come back. I got you to stop, did I not? May I be done here? Can I not retire? Not quite my dear. She stepped forward, her voice lowering. We made a deal, Elsa. I am well aware. I still have time. Do you? Yes I do. Far more time than to settle for the likes of Mr. Abernathy. He does not have even the remotest of interest in me. I highly doubt you can afford to be so...selective in your potential suitors. After all, youve run your name into the ground and youd be lucky at all if a man could even look at you without thinking the worst. She whispered. Elsa just stood there, a little shocked though she knew she shouldnt be. After all she knew this truth first and foremost but the fact that her mother thought the same...it felt like she had just been slapped in the face. After what you did do you really expect to marry for love? Or even respect? Mother-- No. I would rather see my only child married off to the most pompous of them all then to have to watch her suffer in the slums for her own misdeeds. You will allow Mr. Abernathy to call on you again after this night. I highly doubt he will ever call on me again. After I am through with some damage control, I guarantee you he will call on you. You will find I can be quite persuasive when I need to be. And apparently where it concerns my rambunctious and dreadfully rebellious daughter, I will have to be as persuasive as I can be. To Elsa, that only meant promising a very sizable dowry, larger than already expected. Very well, Mother. I will do as you command. Though she said it, she knew she could not live up to it. Her mother may not relish the idea of disowning her but if these were her only choices, shed rather be disowned. At least then she would have some dignity left than to be married to a man who would likely enjoy his face buried in soft yellow curls than in dark, dingy brown ones. With a huff, Mrs. Strathmore retreated back into the ballroom and Elsa simply stood there, feeling a weight on her shoulders that was almost crushing, she wanted to crumble into the floor and disappear.