Thread: Asking for Directions {darkangel76 & Alan23}

darkangel76 said Morning came all too early, though with it came the excitement of Andie's trip. Her pink lips quirked up into a smile as she pushed herself up into a sitting position and then moved to let her slender legs dangle over the edge of her bed. The first warm rays of golden sunlight had already begun to filter their way into her luxurious room, filling it with its happy and welcome light. It was as if it was beckoning her to get started on her day, a special 'hello and thank you' all for her for what she was about to do for her country. At that, Andie giggled and then heard the knock on her door. Her brown eyes darted over to the large antique-style wooden door with its crystal knob, the sun's light dancing off the facets and creating the prettiest little rainbows on the wall adjacent to where it was. She knew it was Helen coming to help her dress. It's me, miss, came Helen's muffled voice from the other side of the door. Andie's smile broadened. Ah, how she could predict such things. As her hand moved to play with her tousled dark tresses, she nodded and lazily answered her maid. Yes, you may enter. Without further hesitation, Helen entered and quickly set to work about Andie's room. She drew the drape and handed her yet another box she was carrying in her hands. Andie's face lit up at the sight of the box. Clearly, she hadn't expected this present. Oh, daddy, Andie sighed happily as she slipped off her bed and moved to open the box. Inside was a beautiful gown made of pale blue satin material. She pulled it out and gasped slightly at the sheer exquisiteness of what she was beholding. Oh, he's outdone himself this time. He truly has, she whispered. Perhaps I've rubbed off on him. She smiled a little at her own little joke. Helen remained quiet, still feeling a bit badly for her behavior the night prior just before Andie's 'farewell party'. Her small hands wringing themselves in front of her, she nodded quietly and she moved to take it and help Andie dress. Andie allowed Helen to take the gown from her hands knowing that she needed to get ready, though as she did, she admired it in all its beauty. Like her gown from the night before, this one also had purpose. It was the gown everyone in Chicago would be seeing her off in. It was to make a final impression, a bold statement. Therefore, like her gown from the 'farewell party', this gown was a bit more daring than most of her usual dresses. But, no matter, she'd have time enough to change later on during their trip if she felt the need. Besides, Harry wasn't going to be coming along, so she had nothing to fear not that he wouldn't be anything but a gentleman anyway. As Andie thought about how her trip would go, she let Helen dress her. Like the night before, first came the corset, followed by the garter and stockings. When it came time for the dress, it fit her like a perfect glove. It truly was the most breathtaking thing she'd ever donned, not to mention the most daring. But then, this trip was in and of itself was daring... dangerous, treacherous... but, she was a Hammond! The hope of Amerika! Thus, she was up for the challenge and the only one worthy enough for the honor. She knew those of Annesland would appreciate the gesture of her coming all the way to New Orleans. How could they not? Once dressed, Andie let Helen fix up her dark hair and help her with some jewelry so that her chest didn't feel so bare. She then picked out a lacey shawl to help cover up her bared arms and she was ready. Ready to face her father, her entourage... the world! Andie already felt a bit homesick as she rode in the coach that was taking her to her first 'stop' along the way to her final destination to New Orleans. It was a penitentiary of sorts and she and her entourage were to take someonea dangerous someoneto New Orleans with them. Or, so her father had said. It was their insurance, he'd claimed. Not that they really needed it, but he'd said it was always best to be prepared and have a gift in waiting since all good guests bring a gift to their hosts. Andie couldn't fault her father with that logic. As they neared the holding area, Andie tried to peer outside and get a peek of who it was they'd be taking along with them. She wanted to know who it was and what they'd done since she'd been given very little information in that regard. Her father had said that was for her own good and protection, though she'd tried to sweet talk him into telling. Unfortunately, it had gotten her nowhere except a new bracelet that had been added to her jewelry boxa very pretty one at that. Finally, Andie's coach stopped and she felt her heart begin to pound with anticipation. She was about to meet someone who was supposedly notorious, though she had no idea who they were. She bit down on her lower lip and leaned over the adjust her one stocking that had been giving her troubles. The garter had come unfastened much like the night before and she needed to reattach it. Scowling, she made a mental note to never wear that particular garter belt ever again. After fixing the stocking, she smoothed out her skirt and got out of her coach. She looked over to where a crowd had gathered surely they were securing the one they were to be escorting on the way to New Orleans. Sucking in a sharp breath, she began to walk over to the group so that she could greet them and see to it that the one they were holding was secured with her people. The sooner they left, the sooner they could get to New Orleans. With each step that Andie took, she could feel the one stocking begin to sag. Silently she cursed at herself. The garter she was wearing truly was the worst! Trying to hold back the tears, she continued on her way until she reached the group. A tiny fist clutching at her lacey shawl, she looked up at one of the men and smiled. Hello good sir, Andie began with a curtsy. Andromeda Elizabeth Schaeffer Hammond, President Hammond's daughter, she added with a smile. Her brown eyes glittered as the sun glinted off the blue satin of her dress. We're here to pick up our... guest. She said the word 'guest' with a slight tone of contempt knowing that the one they'd be escorting was a criminal at the very least. I trust that everything is set so that we may leave as soon as possible? She smiled and let her eyes roam the group, finally resting upon the one she knew was the criminal seeing as he wore cuffs on his wrists and did not don a uniform. Click to expand... Well, they're certainly doing it in style, Galvie remarked, from the corner of his mouth, to the soldier closest to him - a muscular young private who carried the surname Dawson. So who's that, then? The ambassador's daughter? His mistress? Not his wife, surely. I'd have thought - Hush! snapped Dawson, with an aggressive look. It wasn't so much that he had taken offense at the Anneslandian's impertinence, so much as wanting to spare his charge getting into any more trouble than he had to. Seeing that the woman who had emerged from the litter was deep in conversation with Lieutenant Bertram, he hastened to bring Galvie up to speed. That, for your information, he said, without moving his lips, showing that he might well have made it as a ventriloquist had such things still been popular on stage and screen, is the ambassador herself. Andromeda Elizabeth Schaeffer Hammond. Hammond? replied Galvie, adopting the same stiff-lipped mien. You mean like - ? Yes, like the president. She's President Hammond's daughter. He whacked Galvie with the flat of his sword. And stop staring at her. She can make things even worse for you than they are, if she doesn't like you. And given what you are, she dislikes you enough already! Your 'guest,' Ma'am, is ready for collection, Lieutenant Bertram replied, giving her a crisp military bow. Lieutenant Bertram at your service. I, and these members of the 7th... and a squadron of the 12th Amerikan Motorised Cavalry he added the last as an afterthought, rather like you'd mention tea and coffee at the end of a sumptuous menu are to provide your escort to the border. We shall be traveling through somewhat wild country, you see, Ma'am. But you can count on us to see that no harm comes to you. At the border, we shall be joined by the 23rd Light Hussars and a gaggle of tanks from Her Majesty's Anneslandian Tank Corps. You will have quite a guard of honor for your entry to New Orleans. As befits, of course, a lady of your importance and charm. He beckoned to Dawson. Bring the prisoner forward, Private! Dawson marched Galvie towards the imaginary line, exactly six feet from where the ambassador stood, as he had been instructed. Galvie stood to attention as he had been instructed, then gave her a small, theatrical bow, like something from the long-ago Elizabethan era which was not in the script, after which he met her eyes, letting his gaze flicker just for a second down to her mouth, and back up again. This, too, was not in his instructions, and he had the satisfaction of seeing Lt Bertram's face go white and puce by turns! Seeing that the ambassador did not offer her hand for a shake, Galvie stuck out his own. He saw that she, for some reason, was holding on to her skirt at thigh level - some good luck charm, he guessed, or perhaps she was paranoid enough to have brought some kind of concealable weapon, just in case. It was, he reflected, somewhat flattering that she felt that, even cuffed and fettered as he was, even the best the 7th Cavalry could offer were not enough for safety! Or perhaps, he thought with a grin that he only just managed to hide, her level of military sophistication was greater than other women of her age and station, and she had no illusions about the efficiency of the horsemen! I, who am about to die, salute you, Ma'am, he said, in his soft Anneslandian accent. He wondered if she'd recognize the reference to the greetings given by gladiators in the arena, to their emperor. I could wish we might have met in better circumstances. But then, given your beauty, meeting you at all is a privilege beyond the desserts of a humble frontiersman such as myself. He ignored the kick from Pte Dawson, and continued. Well, we should have quite a pleasant jaunt, I'm calculating. It's to be the scenic route, I understand. They tell me the Ozark mountains are quite pleasant, at this time of year. I'd go as far as to say - But he went so far as to say nothing more intelligible, for the flat of Lt Bertram's sword caught him square in his broad back and, weakened as he was by months of confinement and starvation, he went sprawling, face down, in the dust. An incident that he filed away, carefully, in the deepest recesses of his brain, for possible future avengement.