False Southern Gentility
The Making of a fool
Elizabeth brushed her hair in-front of her mirror. Turning fifteen wasn't all she had it cracked out to be. She would be able to get married, that she was sure of. She was well mannered, and perfectly skilled in the art of making a man want her.
Christine opened her door quietly. "Elizabeth," she started as Elizabeth fastened the small red bow into the back of her hair. "can I--I mean, could I speak with you?" she asked.
Elizabeth shrugged. "I believe that you 'can' speak mother, whether you choose to say something to me or not is completely under your own understandings." she was cold, but not enough to come off rude.
Never rude was she, she was physically incapable of being rude or hateful.
Christine swallowed. "I meant may I. Wait a minute, don't correct me." she said, controlling her voice as she had done with Elizabeth when she was a little girl.
Elizabeth laughed. "Yes mother, what was it that you needed to speak with me about?" she asked as she stood and smoothed out her dress.
Elizabeth had decided on a dress that had once been her mothers. The long white dress was belted high beneath at the hips, with the red lace cascading down to the floor. The light red tafeta covered her breasts lightly.
"I saw the piece of paper that you had your father sign--while I was--away." Christine did not like refering back to anything that had happened while she was absent from the family...it made things to aquward.
Elizabeth shrugged. "Yes, what about it?"
"I don't think that you ought to be thinking about marriage right now. I wasn't much older than you were when I got married the first time--trust me, it never works out..." she closed her eyes as she thought back on the young and annoying boy who had married her.
"Why should I base my life around your faults?"
Christine took a step back, that comment had surprised her. "They were not faults, Elizabeth. The things that I did made me who I am today, don't you understand that?" she asked in a quiet voice.
"I won't make the same mistakes that you made with Daddy, or with Peter, James or with the other one! God, I can't even remember all of their names! yes, they died, but a widow is supposed to be sacrid, not a hussy!"
Christine swallowed back the pain of rejection and spoke. "Yes, a widow was supposed to be an artifact. A small moving ghost. Her heart and soul in the grave with him. I couldn't be that, I had children, a family, to worry about. I couldn't put myself into their graves because I was to busy digging my way out of my own! " she lowered her voice as Mary knocked on the door.
"May I come in?" she asked as she opened the door the rest of the way, Michael holding onto her arm, becoming her balance.
Christine nodded. "Of course, I was just congragulating my little girl on becoming all grown up. Christopher has promised her off to Albus Johanson, he should make a fine match for her."
Elizabeth smiled a quiet smile. "Albus is a very good man. I am sure that I will make him a wonderous wife." she said as she walked to Mary, kissed her on the cheek, and left the room.
Mary swayed and Michael's grip tightened on her arm. "Come darling, you need to lie down again, you shouldn't have even gotten up in the first place. And Christine," he said as he turned to Christine as she sat down heavily, her hand to her bosom. "you need to do the same. I'll send Christopher--"
"No." Christine said as she stood, touched her aching side, and adjusted her back. "There will be no sending for Christopher. I will go down to see my daughters fiance, and then I will see Christopher--" she stumbled as she began to walk and gripped onto the bed-post. "Though it may not be in that order."
Michael groaned as she passed him. He still loved her, whether she knew it or not, she hadn't known it to begin with, but he had loved her. Christine had tried to cover up who she was when he had first met her, using fake names and lies to cover her tracks, but he had found out, it had taken him a while, but he knew that she wasn't the born-and-raised South Carolina girl she claimed to be.
She lacked the accent and the sense of order.
As Michael walked Mary back to their bedroom, he thought back on the years that he had spent with Christine...love had made him a fool...
Christine opened her door quietly. "Elizabeth," she started as Elizabeth fastened the small red bow into the back of her hair. "can I--I mean, could I speak with you?" she asked.
Elizabeth shrugged. "I believe that you 'can' speak mother, whether you choose to say something to me or not is completely under your own understandings." she was cold, but not enough to come off rude.
Never rude was she, she was physically incapable of being rude or hateful.
Christine swallowed. "I meant may I. Wait a minute, don't correct me." she said, controlling her voice as she had done with Elizabeth when she was a little girl.
Elizabeth laughed. "Yes mother, what was it that you needed to speak with me about?" she asked as she stood and smoothed out her dress.
Elizabeth had decided on a dress that had once been her mothers. The long white dress was belted high beneath at the hips, with the red lace cascading down to the floor. The light red tafeta covered her breasts lightly.
"I saw the piece of paper that you had your father sign--while I was--away." Christine did not like refering back to anything that had happened while she was absent from the family...it made things to aquward.
Elizabeth shrugged. "Yes, what about it?"
"I don't think that you ought to be thinking about marriage right now. I wasn't much older than you were when I got married the first time--trust me, it never works out..." she closed her eyes as she thought back on the young and annoying boy who had married her.
"Why should I base my life around your faults?"
Christine took a step back, that comment had surprised her. "They were not faults, Elizabeth. The things that I did made me who I am today, don't you understand that?" she asked in a quiet voice.
"I won't make the same mistakes that you made with Daddy, or with Peter, James or with the other one! God, I can't even remember all of their names! yes, they died, but a widow is supposed to be sacrid, not a hussy!"
Christine swallowed back the pain of rejection and spoke. "Yes, a widow was supposed to be an artifact. A small moving ghost. Her heart and soul in the grave with him. I couldn't be that, I had children, a family, to worry about. I couldn't put myself into their graves because I was to busy digging my way out of my own! " she lowered her voice as Mary knocked on the door.
"May I come in?" she asked as she opened the door the rest of the way, Michael holding onto her arm, becoming her balance.
Christine nodded. "Of course, I was just congragulating my little girl on becoming all grown up. Christopher has promised her off to Albus Johanson, he should make a fine match for her."
Elizabeth smiled a quiet smile. "Albus is a very good man. I am sure that I will make him a wonderous wife." she said as she walked to Mary, kissed her on the cheek, and left the room.
Mary swayed and Michael's grip tightened on her arm. "Come darling, you need to lie down again, you shouldn't have even gotten up in the first place. And Christine," he said as he turned to Christine as she sat down heavily, her hand to her bosom. "you need to do the same. I'll send Christopher--"
"No." Christine said as she stood, touched her aching side, and adjusted her back. "There will be no sending for Christopher. I will go down to see my daughters fiance, and then I will see Christopher--" she stumbled as she began to walk and gripped onto the bed-post. "Though it may not be in that order."
Michael groaned as she passed him. He still loved her, whether she knew it or not, she hadn't known it to begin with, but he had loved her. Christine had tried to cover up who she was when he had first met her, using fake names and lies to cover her tracks, but he had found out, it had taken him a while, but he knew that she wasn't the born-and-raised South Carolina girl she claimed to be.
She lacked the accent and the sense of order.
As Michael walked Mary back to their bedroom, he thought back on the years that he had spent with Christine...love had made him a fool...