|Pass and Stow
Author: Eponine Sparrow PM
Lucille is a loyalist, just like her parents. After an unwelcome move, Lucille is exposed to things that she never saw in London: suffering and taxes. After the Boston Massacre, Lucille begins to wonder if she is really on the right side by siding with the King. Will Lucille choose liberty, or will she stand as the loyalist her parents want her to be? Sorry, I suck at summaries!Rated: Fiction T - English - Adventure/Drama - Chapters: 3 - Words: 1,668 - Reviews: 2 - Follows: 1 - Updated: 01-29-13 - Published: 01-13-13 - id: 3091951
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Thank you to YellowWomanontheBrink for her lovely review! It made my day! This chapter is more of an introduction/filler. The real story starts when the Larks arrive in Boston!
Lucille scowled at the fireplace in the parlor. "Anna!"
The red headed maid came running into the room, "Miss Alice, what is it?"
Lucille twirled a piece of hair in her fingers, "Tea. Two lumps and yes cream."
Anna nodded and curtsied before turning to get the cup of tea. Lucille looked up at the ceiling, warily studying the crown molding around it. It was elegant, just like everything was at Lark Manor. Lucille slumped in her chair and smoothed down her black silk dress. She would miss this place.
Anna walked back into the room and set down a china teacup with delicate pink roses painted on it. "Here you are milady."
Lucille nodded and took a dainty sip, "Thank you Anna." Lucille glared at the door that led into the parlor where Lady Lydia Lark was eating her dinner in silence, all alone. Good. Lucille thought. She should be punished for ruining my entire life! Lucille smiled at the thought.
"Lu-cy!" her mother sang from the dining hall. Lucille's smirk turned into a grimace. Lucille hated that nickname. She was christened Lucille Elizabeth Lark, not Lucy, and Lucille she would be called.
Lucille put down her teacup and walked angrily to the threshold of the dining hall and glared at her mother.
"What is it, Mama?" Lucille asked coldly.
Lydia Lark took a sip from her crystal champagne glass, then smiled at her daughter as she gently sat the cup down on the lace tablecloth. "Join me."
Lucille snorted, "Why ever would I do that?"
"Lucille! My name is Lucille!" Lucille snapped at her mother.
Lydia just looked at her daughter sadly and slightly shook her head. She simply could not believe it. Lucille had been a sweet child, but she had been corrupted by her father. Her father had spoiled her and turned her into the young woman she now was. Lydia hated to say it, even just to herself, but she felt that she needed to:
Lucille had become a spoiled brat. It pained the woman to think of what her daughter had become, but Lucille was Lucille. Lydia knew that it was too late to try and make Lucille a better person, and the thought broke her heart into a million pieces.
Lydia looked at her daughter, her eyes sad and empty, "You disappoint me." Lydia Lark left the room.
Lucille stood unhappily at the door, not knowing how to reply and sighed watching her mother take her leave. Her mother was just too gentle.
Lucille turned to see Anna shifting uncomfortably under Lucille's harsh gaze. "Yes, yes, what is it?" she snapped, frightening the poor young maid.
Anna shrank at the harsh tone of her employers' daughter. "Lady Lucille told me that you should get rest. You are leaving for the New World tomorrow."
Lucille laughed harshly, "Good lord! What does that woman expect from me?"
Anna looked down, "I'll pack your things, Miss."
Lucille looked down the bridge of her nose at Anna, "Yes. Please do so." Anna nodded and left the room.
Lucille glared at the packed chests in her room. Her mother had been serious. They were moving in the morning. Lucille sighed angrily and slid under her covers. She leaned over to blow out the candle that was illuminating the room dimly. She watched the silver smoke billow and swirl around.