Salvation of Ignorance - Chapter 9.1: Can You Not Think For Yourself?
Her distant--and hopefully, soon to be 'close'--relative lived in humble dwellings.
The townhouse was dwarfed by the departed home and the confined rooms only spacious by minimal furniture. Silk curtains danced, defying minor restrictions by drapery swags, before an open window to the right. The outdoor scenery illuminated the enclosed room with a soft, pale-yellow glow.
Breathing was done invitingly.
Emotions could not restrain her to the sofa's confinements; she relied upon mid-morning air to aid in their settling. A clash of Phoebe's belief that her hostess would be as inviting as her windows and fear of how to handle the situation should she be wrong sent a tornado through her stomach.
On the opposing end, of the square container, the eggshell-colored door rotated on its hinges. Phoebe rose hastily, the fabric of her petticoat wrinkling beneath her white knuckles. Vein-pumpingly glacial, the obstructer-of-entry came to the agreement of finally allowing survey of their host.
Lucrecia Danielle Barrettmore--or so Phoebe hoped it to be--was dwarfed in the open space between her and the doorway. Her girth was exemplary of favorable income and (though the style favorable toward the late Antoinette) fitted beneath unmended silk. Half of her silver locks were pulled back in a mild-pompadour while the remainder pooled at the nape of her neck. But more note-worthy was the woman's incumbent approaching.
Phoebe extended the corners of her closed lips.
The English woman gandered at her guest and remained beneath the cross-bridge between the room and hall. Her gaze went from the excessive, lengthy end of Phoebe's gown to her sea-salt, crusted hair. All of this done without pronouncing any wrinkles in her cheeks. Even going so far as to tuck in a cheek at one point.
"Olivia," The host called in a tone commonly used amongst the deaf.
"Actually, it's Pho--."
"Yes, ma'am?" A maid scurried in from the hall.
"My old bones ache. Shut the window," Lucrecia said without batting a grey eye.
Phoebe watched as the yellow glow slowly disappeared from the corner of the room. Her skin puckered in the absence of the cool air.
"Do you intend to leave?" Lucrecia said from the opposing sofa she took while her guest was distracted. Olivia had closed the door behind her.
Phoebe's lips parted and the stability of her joints were tested. Certainly Phoebe required more time to offend.
"No...?" Phoebe begged to stay, considering she'd just arrived.
"Then won't you sit?" Lucrecia raised an open palm to the opposing settee.
The loss of friction chilled Phoebe's interior. Phoebe's head continued to nod concurrence until she sat.
"I trust your trip was pleasant?"
An involuntary introduction of air started her reply, "Very pleasant, thank you for the inquiry." Phoebe neglected to release said breath, which complicated the statement's completion.
Lucrecia briefly pursed her lips, but offered no additional statements or inquiries.
Suspecting it her turn to propagate a new subject of conversation, Phoebe found herself in a worse predicament than the wood encounter with Mrs. Emmons. At least, in that confrontation, she knew Emmons was a widow.
"I suppose," Lucrecia thankfully began again, "your father is displeased with the risk my request placed you in."
Phoebe's sucked in her lips. 'Yes' was the answer she wanted to give, but honesty and her conscious conspired against her. "Well, I found the--uh--potential risk...pleasant."
Lucrecia stone-facedly declared, "Well, I feel ashamed of my selfish wish. So, I shan't blame him."
Phoebe sucked her cheek. Guilt over the incapability to alter another's mind was incurable.
Lucrecia returned to eyeing her carefully, more-than-likely composing another list of flaws. "How old are you dear?"
Phoebe was delayed in obstructing the questioning rise of her brow. "Nineteen last month."
The elderly woman shrugged her lip. "That's...quite a long time."
The American girl nodded her head and briefly extended her lips to their northern corners. Remembering the exception to the rule, Phoebe didn't return the question. But, once again, she was left in a predicament without a conversation starter. The resulting frustration intensified from Lucrecia's pursed lips and continued inspections from the lower horizon of her eyes.
Tucking her labii, Phoebe realized that it might have required an additional decade to speak to her own grandmother.
"Do you eat?"
"Pardon?" Phoebe replied, hoping she misheard.
"You look famished," Lucrecia confirmed otherwise.
"Oh." Phoebe rubbed her neck, hoping to send her collarbone back into her chest.
"I--," the young American was about to divulge her lack of appetite as of late, but remembered it was rude to divulge ones woes upon another. Granted, this was suppose to be her relation, but Phoebe desired to avoid spoiling first impressions.
"I eat well enough," Phoebe finished, but was half-way through her statement before catching her error.
"Not to say your observation is flawed. But, that--Oh, no, that wasn't a smite toward your eyesight. Though, you probably didn't think it was, so now I've condemned myself. No--I..." Phoebe placed her hands in her lap, observed the ceiling, and finally decided to ponder over her next statement. "What I meant was I'm fed generously, but I understand the foundation of your observation. And that I'm sure there's validity to it."
Phoebe squeezed her hands to detain another onset of 'correct-the-error'.
Conversation did not respire. Phoebe spent the musical arrangement of longcase clocks struggling with keeping the quivers of her hands undiscovered.
"Well," Lucrecia interrupted the symphony, "I'm certain you're at least parched now."
Specter hands pulled and twisted at Phoebe's abdomen flesh. All her predictions were playing accordingly. Sea sickness was a tempting alternative.
The elderly, English woman grasped the arm of the sofa and began elevating. Her eyes went to the door. Then she froze.
Phoebe feared Lucrecia's back gave out. Sitting up, Phoebe parted her lips to express such concern.
"You're not one of mine, are you?"
Phoebe's eyes widened, now knowing what Lucracia espied. The American girl placed her hands in her lap and turned to the closed window.
"No, ma'am," was heard from the out-of-view corner.
The floorboards, under the opposing sofa, piped from the returning weight. "Oh...so she's yours."
Phoebe withdrew from the window to find herself the subject of examination from the lower corners of Lucrecia's eyes.
Again, Phoebe had to deliberate the least-spoiled option to reply with. Phoebe could say 'yes'--as the law declared valid--but feared the outcome of her father catching wind of the declaration. She could say 'no', but that would open the door, to a new bag of worms, for revealing to a relation who was vocal about Phoebe's flaws.
"She's my governess." The hands were squeezing her dry.
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125,005 Literary Works • 672,798 Reviews
Hi again,
I'm going to keep reviewing this whilst I've got the previous chapter in my head!
This seems to obvious to me, and reads a little oddly too. I know you mean close in the sense that they will have a relationship but putting this word next to distant makes it sound off.
I'm actually a fan of the description you've used at the beginning of this chapter. It helps me move away from the previous chapter, which for me is key as you've completely switched scenery and characters so for me this description is important so I'm fully aware I'm no longer on a boat.
You still need to be careful with your speech, making it clear which character is which and who says which piece of text. I know it's difficult because you want to avoid repeating the names of each character after every piece of speech but it would be good for you to have a read through after you write each section and check it is clear who is who. This is especially key since you've switched characters from the previous chapter and it may take the reader a little longer to catch up.
I don't think this chapter flows as well as the last, perhaps because you're writing from a different PoV. Make sure you know this character just as well as your other key protagonist, because it can show through your writing.
Hope this is helpful to you.
Icy
Hello again.
I can certainly reconsider an alternative starting-sentence. :]
Thank you so much for providing your feedback on the introductory portion as some one who has read the previous chapters. I have no issue against trying to iron-out the intro to make it flow better. But I was worried about consequences if I moved this description to a later part in the chapter.
Can certainly work on speech-tag clarity and the flow of this chapter in a future edit.
Thanks again for the feedback!
This is Nikayla here dropping in for a review on this lovely Review Day!
I have to admit that I'm not all that captivated by the beginning of this chapter. The first couple of paragraphs are more drenched in thought than anything else and instead of giving us a scene sooner, we're told instead of shown. There are descriptions that are quite pretty and vivid at the beginning of this chapter as well, yet I'm strongly against them. Why? These fail to be worked into the dialogue that follows and instead info-dump onto the reader. The descriptions are well-written, just not well-placed.
Sprinkle these into the first scene instead of taking the time to describe Lucrecia and then shift into the dialogue. Instead of four or five paragraphs, make these three or even one or two--that'd be more appropriate in a set-up. I ended up being confused by the dialogue a little bit before realizing that the maid's name is Olivia. I can see why Phoebe is confused as well--nothing that needed a change, just threw me off.
Not what I expected to hear from Lucrecia after being introduced to her as being a little...demanding? That's how I found her at the start anyway. An order might be better to show off her character such as 'Then sit.' or 'Then sit down.' though that's minor.
Woah. The dialogue here is old-school in the sense that I'm going to assume that this takes place somewhere in the 20th century, though I'm unable to gauge when. Phoebe seems to want to stay out of trouble with Lucrecia especially because they've just met and she's not very good at it either. I have to say that she made me laugh with the line "Do you eat?" because that's kind of a silly question you'd hear from an old woman.
Of course she eats? I have to say though that this feels a little too typical in the sense that a young girl arrives to meet an old woman that is intimidating at first but I'm pretty sure the two of them will come to bond in the future after Phoebe realizes that Lucrecia isn't actually that bad or intimidating. The end of the chapter though is interesting enough with Phoebe's teacher (is that what governess means in this time period?) comes along with her.
Anyway, those are my thoughts on this chapter. If you have any questions, don't be afraid to ask! I hope I helped and have a great day.
Hello, sorry for the late reply. >.<
I'll consider your stance on the beginning of this chapter.
Thank you for giving me your point of view on how you interpreted my characters through the provided text. That's some of my favorite feedback. "Then won't you sit?" is 100% what I meant to say. "Then sit"/"Then sit down" would be completely out of Lucrecia's character in this instance. However, I can try to alter Phoebe's monologue around that section to reflect how you interpreted it.
Lol. Yes, the dialogue is supposed to be "old-school". You're a century shy. This takes place during the Regency Era. 1803, to be exact. But the era was intended to be clarified in Chapters 1 and 2.
I'm happy to hear you enjoyed the "Do you eat line?" That's one of the few parts of this chapter I feel confident with. So, at least I have a (slightly) better idea of what is working versus what's not.
Yeah, I can see your stance on Phoebe and her grandmother meeting being a rather typical set-up, at least in terms of their first two major conversations (this chapter, and chapter 11). Right now, I'm mostly trying to use Phoebe's African-American governess (during a time when slavery was legal) versus Phoebe's fear-of-her-grandmother-being-a-racist to help the reader get past the typical appearing scene. As for your prediction: it isn't wrong, but it's not right.
Anyways, thanks for the feedback!