Young Writers Society

1

Manor & Manners

Penelope blushed scarlet at the seventh mention of the word ‘girdle’ in the space of an hour. Her cheeks felt like they were on fire as she dropped yet another pin due to her embarrassment.

The women surrounding her giggled and whispered between themselves, taking no notice of the young seamstress’ assistant bumbling around on the hearth rug.

Measuring the esteemed Lady of Riverfor Manor wasn’t an easy task with all of this uncouth talk was being flown around the room. A girl of Penelope’s age wasn’t to know of these things yet. Being invisible had its advantages but today, it had its disadvantages. She wanted to ground to swallow her whole.

“Make sure you do a good job, Penelope!” Penelope’s boss, Rosa, had told her sternly that morning. “I’m trusting you with this! You know I would do it myself if I wasn’t traveling up to Red Tower early. The Queen is demanding to see all of her festival dresses five months in advance for some unearthly reason! If I don’t come back, then you know she didn’t like any of them and I’m dead. Dead, died and dead!”

Penelope had promised that she would do her utmost to please and also promised that she wouldn’t go wandering off. She had a tendency to turn up where she was least wanted. This had led to quite a few embarrassing encounters.

Dragging herself up from the floor, Penelope brushed down her pale blue pinafore and pushed her dirty blonde hair back from her eyes. A few stray strands remained on her sweaty forehead. The room was sweltering!

Penelope, a group of glamorous, gossiping women and the Lady of the Manor, Lady Thane, were all squeezed into a private sitting room with a roaring fire in the hearth. The women were sprawled out upon luxurious couches and Lady Thane was stood on a short stool before the fire with drapes of colourful material pinned precisely around her body. Lady Thane was the very definition of beautiful. That type of beautiful where women don’t know if they should be in awe of her or just down right hate her for it.

Penelope had a feeling that she had experienced both reactions.

“Oh, Faye. You can’t tell me that you believe Lanford when he says he has never looked at any other woman than you?” Lady Thane gasped in disbelief. The young lady called Faye fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat.

“He’s a perfect gentleman!” Faye said defensively.

“Oh yes, a perfect gentleman that always talks at your breasts,” quipped Lady Thane and the group of women all fell about laughing. All except young Faye, who looked rather hurt.

“The moral of the story, Ladies,” continued Lady Thane, cueing the women to be silent at once. “is that us girls must stick together. A man is nothing but a pawn in our world to be plucked and pruned to our satisfaction. A perfect gentleman is only a perfect gentleman when a woman demands him to be.”

The women nodded and murmured in agreement with their lady. It was a well known fact that Lady Thane was in control over the estate and business her & her husband owned. Servants bowed lower to her, fulfilled her demands to perfection and wouldn’t dream of crossing her. Lord Thane was her right hand man. Not the other way round.

The room had gone awkwardly quiet. Uncomfortable shifting from the women ensued whilst waiting for the Lady to speak again. Lady Thane fiddled with the hem of a rare Ilopa violet drape that Penelope had pinned around her bust. The mood had suddenly turned sour and Penelope didn’t seem to be the only one confused as to why.

“Leave me,” Lady Thane, suddenly spoke. Shattering the silence. The group of women immediately gathered their gowns and shuffled from the room, daring to glance at each other wondering what they had done wrong.

Penelope scrambled around, plucking up her measuring tapes, pin cushions and scraps of material and stuffing them into her seamstress case. Once she had gathered herself together and unpinned Lady Thane from her makeshift dress, she remembered her manners, curtsied low and waited politely for her formal dismissal from the room. What she got instead came as a surprise.

“What is your name, girl?” Lady Thane spoke.

Penelope peeked up through her dark eyelashes to check that it was her that was being spoken to.

“P-P-Penelope Strike, Ma’am,” she stuttered.

“A pretty little thing like you would do well to remember my words. Do not trust them. Not ever.”

“Y-y-yes Ma’am. Thank you, Ma’am.”

“You are dismissed.”

Penelope immediately moved towards to door but stole a quick glance back at Lady Thane who was staring into the fire, passing her wedding ring between her palms. A frown marred her forehead and a single tear slid down her cheek.

Penelope had never seen such sadness from a woman so powerful. Something wasn’t quite right between the Lord and Lady of Riverfor Manor. 

Word Count: 835