The Thrill Is Gone

Two days passed since Paulina first stepped inside the home of Lord Fellowes. And instead of being an exciting few days that she’d look back on with fondness, they were tiresome hours that left her fearing that her stay at Wilton Crescent would never end. That’s not to say that there was a lack of employment within the residence. To have said such a thing would’ve been a scandalous falsehood. Her days were filled with occupations crafted especially for her by Lord and Lady Fellowes. They had been meticulous in their planning; taking great pains to ensure that there would always be something for her to do. And it was that desire to keep her busy with tedious tasks designed to improve her presence in society, her manners at the table and in polite conversation, that made the hours pass by so slowly for her.

Lord and Lady Fellowes split the work. He focused on advising Paulina in how to present herself appropriately in superior company, as well as how to respectfully engage in meaningful political discussions without abandoning her own opinions and without rudely attacking opinions that she didn’t quite agree with. Lady Fellowes, for her part, focused on Paulina’s manners at the table. She had fully expected to find herself forced to refine an American brute, a task that would surely have taken the entire week. But upon having first met Paulina, Lady Fellowes was pleasantly surprised by the fine manners that the young American possessed, but fine manners wouldn’t be enough for the elevated society in which they were going to introduce her.

Fine manners were suitable for an event put on by the Trustees, but they were outright barbaric when one was to be in the company of a Prime Minister and some of the most influential politicians and businessmen in all of Europe. That was why Lady Fellowes was so diligent in her instruction of superior dining. She taught Paulina how to serve tea as a woman of rank, how to wipe her mouth correctly, how to eat, how to hold her glasses and cutlery. She even went as far as too teach her how to laugh, because even Paulina’s laugh wasn’t quite acceptable. Apparently, there was too much teeth in her laugh. Their exposure had to be minimized in order to craft a respectable laugh.

On each of those days, Paulina returned to her chamber with a heavy heart. She’d lie in bed, staring at the ceiling and wonder if they were ever going to find something about her that they liked just as it was. She’d never imagined that there could be so much wrong with her. Well, wrong according to their standards, because before she’d stepped into their home, she’d fancied herself quite fucking fantastic. Of course, she wasn’t stupid enough to think there weren’t parts of her that might need a tweaking, but she had no clue how much refining would have to be done.

And the worst part was that their nitpicking didn’t just make her nervous about the dinner, the worst part was the fact that it made her question whether she’d ever be able to formally be in the company of royalty, without being viewed as the barbaric American. The last thing she wanted was to be viewed with contempt by the Queen and the rest of the royals. She didn’t want to get on their bad side, and she most definitely didn’t want to give the press anything negative to write about her. But the way the last couple of days had gone for her, made her consider never accepting an invitation from Harry to make their relationship public. But then she had a talk with her mom, and although she didn’t come clean about the fact that she was dating a royal, she did confess that she felt inadequate, that perhaps she’d never fit in.

Hearing her daughter say that she felt inadequate, both infuriated and distressed Irmalinda. She wanted nothing more than to get on the next flight out to London, so that she could personally tell off Lord and Lady Fellowes, for having made her daughter feel inferior. And then, once the telling off had been accomplished, she’d hug her daughter tightly and whisper reassuring words, but knowing very well that that was impossible, she did the only thing she could, she set out to boost her daughter’s confidence. Irmalinda reminded Paulina that although she didn’t come from a family of money and luxury, she had worked hard enough to be in a position where influential people were taking notice of her. That alone meant she wasn’t inadequate, because people of rank don’t take notice of people that aren’t promising or accomplished. Yes, they were being harsh on her, but their criticism was meant to be constructive, even if it didn’t seem that way. Paulina just had to work through it. She had to take in their advice, but keep true to herself, because it was her that they were first interested in, her that needed to remain.

Her mother’s words were enough to boost her spirits, and the next morning, when she sat down for breakfast, she wasn’t forcing a smile to mask her nerves. The smile came naturally and she was calm, much calmer, than she had been in days. The change in her demeanor went unnoticed by Lord and Lady Fellowes. They were far too engrossed in imagining how their guest would react when they informed her that they were to venture to Bond Street in the afternoon. There they would find her a suitable gown for the dinner on Saturday, something elegant to suit the society, but also distinctive enough to grab the attention of others and make them wonder just who she was.

They knew that Bond Street was the only place where they would find such a gown. And as they drank their tea, after the plates had been cleared away, Lord Fellowes casually mentioned that they would be spending their afternoon in Bond Street. They each believed that she’d be quite beside herself when she found out that they were going to take her to such a fashionable district, but it turned out that Paulina had never even heard of the illustrious Bond Street. Wait. That’s a lie. She had heard of the street, but she didn’t really know what was so special about it. Bond Street had been mentioned in Sense and Sensibility, but it had been in passing, no real importance had been paid to it, which was why she simply smiled and hoped that that would be enough to convince them of the excitement she was faking.

“Have you been to Bond Street before, Miss Balcázar?” inquired Lady Fellowes.

“I can’t say I have, Ma’am.” Paulina replied. “To be honest, I’ve only heard of Bond Street, in passing. It was in a Jane Austen novel that it was mentioned, but I don’t quite have an idea of what Bond Street is, if that makes any sense.”

“You’re a fan of Jane?” Lady Fellowes sounded surprised.

“Quite a massive fan, actually.” This was a topic that Paulina was perfectly at ease with. “I’ve never been able to get enough of her wit or her use of irony, and I don’t think I ever will. There’s just something about her work that makes it hard for me to put a novel down. I have to read it through so I may chuckle and be emotionally moved, and of course, fawn over the men.”

“And which of her men is your favorite? If I might ask,” added Lady Fellowes.

“Hmm, well I suppose if I had to choose just one it would be . . . no, no, I'm afraid I'm unable to choose only pick one. My heart has a special place for each of them, but Captain Wentworth and Colonel Brandon are a bit dearer to me than the others.”

“Brandon’s my favorite as well.” Lady Fellowes’ eyes twinkled with excitement. “He is everything a proper man ought to be. He may not be as handsome as Willoughby or as energetic, but his steadfast character and moral principals are what make him the better man. He is a romantic, yet he is sensible, the perfect combination of feeling and logic.”

“I agree wholeheartedly.” Paulina was thrilled that they had something in common. “Brandon is the sort of man that can be dismissed as quiet and boring, when in reality he is a true romantic, and has a genuine sense of honor and principal.”

Lady Fellowes smiled brightly, showing more teeth than what would’ve been considered proper, but it couldn’t be helped. She was very much pleased with the young American, and wished to discuss further.

“I'm afraid that for the time being, you must put your conversation regarding Miss Austen on hold.” Lord Fellowes chimed in. “There will be plenty of time to discuss her work during the drive over to Bond Street, but at the present, we must inform Miss Balcázar of what Bond Street is.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” Lady Fellowes suddenly realized how off track they’d veered. “Dear me, I lost myself in Austen, and forgot that we were meant to discuss our afternoon’s plans. I suppose our chat will just have to wait.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it though,” commented Paulina.

“As will I,” said Lady Fellowes. “We’ll take tea and have a lively discussion, but for now, we must speak of Bond Street.”

Paulina nodded in understanding.

“Bond Street is a fashionable shopping district,” explained Lady Fellowes. “It is where we will find you a gown for the dinner.”

“Find me a gown?” questioned Paulina. “But I already have a dress for Saturday.”

“It is a fine dress, indeed, but it is not suited for dinner,” spoke Lord Fellowes. “That is to say it is not suited for this dinner, for there will also be dancing and it is therefore imperative that you wear a gown to it. I should have been explicit in that, my apologies, but do not worry, the outfit will be provided by me.”

“I'm honored that you wish to gift a dress to me, but I can’t accept that, Sir.” Paulina protested. “You’ve already taken me into your home. I couldn’t possibly –”

“Miss Balcázar, need I remind you that you are my guest and that at the dinner you will be viewed as an extension of me? It is crucial you dress in a manner befitting a friend of Lord Fellowes, and while I know it is customary to protest, I must inform you that every Scholar that I have invited in the past, has been gifted a suit and all the necessary items to pull together an outfit, so please do not feel uncomfortable about this. Baron Brockwell and Baron Waldegrave will do the same with their scholars.”

“But I have a fine dress . . .” she protested, determined to wear what she’d brought with her.

“It is indeed a fine dress, and if we were in fine company, it would be appropriate. As it is, the company with which we will spend our time, is not fine company, it is superior. The only society greater than theirs would be that of royalty,” he told her. “Now I understand why you feel the need to protest. It is only natural to, but I want to make it perfectly clear that come this afternoon, we will be in Bond Street, finding you a suitable gown. So protest if you wish, but know that we are firm in our resolve.”

Never in her life had she worked harder to hold her tongue. She wanted nothing more than to throw her napkin on the table, to utter some choice words that would make him blush, and then storm out of the room. Her mind ran wild with various scenarios, with phrases she could utter, but she knew that if she were to part her lips, her indignation would get the best of her, and she’d end up being hated by all the Trustees. Knowing very well that she had to keep herself from speaking, she lifted the tea to her lips, and took in a long, slow drink. There was no point in fighting or arguing. If the others were going to get suits bought for them, then there was nothing wrong with a gown being purchased for her. It was that point that she repeated to herself, time and time again, in hopes that it would do her good, but her mind was determined to despise him.

Ever since she’d stepped into his home, he’d done nothing but tell her that she needed to be improved upon, that she wasn’t quite ready to be seen in public with him. She had borne it as best she could, with a forced smile and an earnest wish to impress him, but he’d just crossed the line. She felt childish for being so worked up over a dress, but the dress was her, she’d fallen so in love with it, because when she saw it on the rack it just called out to her, but no, what she thought didn’t matter. All that mattered was what the wealthy, influential couple thought. They had to be pleased. It was, after all, them that were doing her the favor of introducing her to society. So if they wanted her to dress a certain way, she had to thank them for the clothes and slip on the dress. That was the way it was for her and the other Scholars that had been given the honor of being favored by the Trustees. And one day, perhaps if things turned out well for her, she would find herself in a similar position of power.

What remained of breakfast went by uneventfully. Paulina would’ve ideally not spoken much and sulked a bit, but she had to be the ever charming young woman that had been invited into their home, so after she had finished her tea and calmed down considerably, she began discussing the news of the day with Lord Fellowes, forcing her mind to not think about how much she’d rather be in Oxford, by making it remember that this was an opportunity that could not be wasted.

Discussing the news proved to be a time consuming activity, and it was at a quarter to noon that Lady Fellowes interrupted their conversation, and reminded them that there was shopping to be done. They wasted no time in gathering their belongings, and piling into the black Mercedes-Benz ML63 AMG. During the ride, Lady Fellowes spoke of the shops where she felt they might find a suitable gown. She was excited by the prospect by spending an entire afternoon searching for a perfect outfit. The last time she’d been that excited was when her youngest daughter agreed to go shopping with he. It had been a little over half a year since that happened. Her daughters were at an age where they wished to do everything alone or with their friends, which made it quite an emotionally trying time on Lady Fellowes. Of course she had her own friends and often went out with them, but what was expected of women their age always kept them from the beautiful gowns that younger women might wear.

Lady Fellowes’ excitement was infectious. The way her face lit up soon had Paulina feeling optimistic about the ordeal. It wasn’t going to be torturous, it was poised to be an enjoyable event, and perhaps they might even resume their Jane Austen discussion.

“You’re absolutely going to adore Bond Street.” Lady Fellowes assured Paulina as the Mercedes turned onto the illustrious street. “I am quite certain that it is what heaven must be like. It’s nothing but shops filled with beautiful clothing and accessories, a true treat!” She smiled brightly. “Tell me, what colors are you partial towards? I think you might do quite well with pastels, something soft that’ll go lovely with your skin, but then again, rich, dark colors might do just as well, a beautiful plum or a rich rose. Oh! We’ll simply have to wait and see. There is quite an extensive selection to be sorted through.”

Paulina thought Lady Fellowes was exaggerating, that she was talking up the street and stretching the truth about just how many gowns there were, but the moment they stepped out of the Mercedes, she saw for herself that Lady Fellowes wasn’t lying. It seemed that everywhere Paulina turned, her eyes were greeted with a designer name that she’d heard celebrities mention on red carpets and during interviews. There was no escaping the high end labels, the women that looked like they’d just stepped off a runway and the men that seemed right out of GQ.

The look of the place coupled with the people walking around, made her want to jump back into the car and ask to be driven to Alfred’s flat. That would’ve been much less nerve wracking, but just as she was about to take a step back, Lady Fellowes spoke, saying that their first stop would be at Alexander McQueen. She followed them into the shop calmly enough, but when her eyes started darting around the displays, she grew nervous and increasingly mindful of her movements. She feared that she might knock something over and break it. That was the way she felt whenever her mom made her go into the kitchen area at department stores. It was fear mixed with panic, and it was those very emotions that took hold of her as she went from store to store with Lord and Lady Fellowes.

Though luckily for her, they didn’t notice her anxiety. Their minds were far too engrossed in inspecting the various gowns; in touching the fabric, judging the cut, and deciding whether or not the design was up to par. Most of the gowns they crossed paths with, were deemed unsuitable for the dinner. The cuts were off. The colors were wrong. The designs were just ghastly.

Only a handful were actually taken off the rack and given to Paulina to try on, but even the preapproved dressed proved to be unfit for the evening. The ones that fit her in the bust, ended up being far too tight in the bum area, the ones that fit comfortable around the bum, were far too loose in the bust, and every single one of them dragged on the floor, because despite Paulina thinking that she was rather tall, she was actually on the shorter side of fashion.

Those setbacks led to their time at Bond Street being a failure. Paulina knew it was a failure, they knew it was a failure, but they refused to admit defeat. So Lord Fellowes, in his determination to finish getting her attire together for the dinner, declared that they were going to go to Harrods. It was only a seven minute drive away, and it boasted an impressive International Designer Room on its first floor. There was where he believed they would find her a suitable gown. And it was there, only minutes after having made their way into the room, where she set eyes on one of the most beautiful gowns she’d ever seen.

It was a beaded cap sleeve gown in a dark, rich shade of blue. The beads sparkled in the light, beckoning her towards the display where it hung. She moved slowly, not even remembering to tell Lady Fellowes that she’d found a dress, and when she reached out to touch the fabric, she was pleasantly surprised to discover it was silk. The dress itself was very simply, very elegant. There was no loud design on it, nor did it need any. The beads on the cap sleeve were all the detail it had, and a simple belt that synched in at the waist was its only other accessory. It was a stunning dress, one that she instantly fell in love with.

“This is it,” declared Lady Fellowes, reaching out to touch the fabric. “Oh yes, this . . . this will be your gown. The color compliments your skin beautifully, and the belt will assist with the fit.” She paused, realizing she hadn’t asked Paulina what she thought about the dress. “Do you like it?”

“Very much so, Ma’am,” she replied.

“Then let’s have you try it on. Come now, off the rack and follow me to the dressing area.”

Paulina did as she was told, carefully taking the dress from the rack and following closely behind Lady Fellowes as she led her to the changing rooms. Once they arrived in the area, a young woman in her early 30’s greeted them. She introduced herself as Miranda, smiling brightly as she did so, and then took the dress from Paulina and asked her to please follow her into the changing area.

“You’re not coming?” asked Paulina, confused as to why she wasn’t accompanying her. Lady Fellowes had been there through the fittings at the other shops.

“No. I'm afraid Lord Fellowes couldn’t quite keep up with our pace, and has lost himself. I’ll have to wait here so he can spot me and come over to us.” Lady Fellowes explained. “Run along though. I'm quite eager to see if the dress fits as well on you as we imagined it to.”

The dress proved to look even better on her that they’d imagined it would. The length was a bit longer than they would’ve cared for, but when heels were added to the ensemble it was at the ideal length. The only thing that made Paulina nervous was the fact that there was a dramatic front slit that would leave her leg on full display if she took to wide a step, but her nerves were silenced by Lady Fellowes who said that it was an elegant slit.

“The slit’s not worth fretting over.” Lady Fellowes reassured. “It’s quite becoming and goes very well with the style, very well indeed. I daresay the gown is even better because of it. But, of course, if you’re not fond of it, then we’ll find something else.”

“I am fond of it,” said Paulina, quickly. “I absolutely love it. I just wanted to make sure it was appropriate.”

“In that case, we’ll take this gown.” Lady Fellowes paused. “Silly me, Lord Fellowes has yet to see it. Let me phone him. He’s most likely made his way over to the suits. Whenever we visit, he always runs off to suits and can’t be found until he’s bought himself at least two. No matter, I’ll disrupt his frenzy, and he’ll come give his opinion. It’ll only be a minute.” She pulled out her mobile and dialed her husband. “Robert, dear, where are you? Don’t try to say you’re in the home section, you very well know you’re in the suits. You already have a tuxedo for the dinner. It’s brand new . . . Robert, no. There’s no point in buying another one when you already have a tuxedo for the dinner. Now come to the – so what if you ran into Brockwell and Waldegrave?” She shook her head in annoyance. “Let them outfit their lads, you have a lady whom needs your opinion. Now get over here. Wait. You just ran into – well, bring them if you want, just get here.” Lady Fellowes put away her mobile. “Sorry about that, Lord Fellowes will be here shortly. Apparently he ran into Baron Brockwell and Baron Waldegrave.”

“It seems to day was the perfect day to take Scholars out shopping.” Paulina commented, smiling softly.

“It would seem so,” agreed Lady Fellowes. “Everyone always waits a few days before taking out their Scholar.”

“Do they?”

Lady Fellowes nodded. “You must understand that when one is of a certain rank a lot is expected of them and their company, which is why you were put to so many lessons these past few days. It was to ensure that our image would be intact. And I wish to apologize if we made you feel inadequate, it was not our intention, but sometimes, well sometimes we can get carried away.”

“It’s understandable. There’s a lot of pressure put on you, and you don’t want to add any negative light to yourself.”

“Precisely,” smiled Lady Fellowes. “Tell me, are you by chance acquainted with either of the Scholars?”

“Yes, Ma’am, with one,” replied Paulina, still standing on the little platform positioned in the middle of all the mirrors. “Baron Waldegrave invited Callum Key. We’re friends.”

“The Prime Minister’s son,” she said. “He’s a very charming young man, met him once at a dinner with his father, very nice man his father. Have you met the Prime Minister?”

“No, I can’t say I have. He’s not come to visit Callum, so I haven’t had the honor. And since he had surgery recently, I daresay he won’t visit for quite sometime.”

“Such a pity,” she didn’t mean it, her words were forced by propriety. “I think for the dinner, we’ll have your hair done up,” said Lady Fellowes, changing the subject. “Hmm, I believe a classic style will do best, perhaps one from the 1940’s. Yes, yes, I think it’ll do quite well.”

“What will do quite well?” inquired Lord Fellowes from the entrance to the changing area. “Miss Balcázar, I believe that will be your gown,” he declared when he saw her. He stepped towards the platform and circled her, his eyes inspecting the gown. “Yes, this shall surely be the dress.”

“It is a very glamorous gown,” spoke another voice, one that Paulina had only heard in person once before. “It’s because of gowns like those that I’ve found myself forced to seek out a new tux.”

“My dears!” exclaimed Lady Fellowes, her face lighting up at the sight of her two nephews. When it came to their aunt, they didn’t expect her to be frigid and formal; they expected love that would remind them of their mother’s. “How are you?” She placed kisses on William’s cheeks and they shared a tender embrace.

“I’ve been well. And you, aunt?”

“Very well indeed,” she replied, stepping away from him. “Simply doing a bit of shopping today,” she told him and turned her attention to Harry. “I’ve not seen you in ages, my darling boy. Where have you run off to?”

“I’ve just been busy with a few things. I'm brilliant though.” Harry also hugged her tightly, forcing himself to look away from his secret girlfriend.

“Well you should stop by more often, like you used to.” She pulled away. “Oh! Where are my manners, I forgot to introduce you to –”

“We are acquainted,” interjected Harry. “There have been a few events at Rhodes House in which we have met Miss Balcázar.”

Lady Fellowes motioned for Paulina to leave the platform. She did as she was told and walked towards them in the high heels.

“Your Royal Highness,” she curtsied to William. “Your Royal Highness,” she curtsied to Harry. “It is a true honor to have been remembered.”

“You were most attentive to us at the polo match. To not remember would be unpardonable,” stated William. “I take it that is the gown you will wear to the dinner on Saturday.”

“Yes, Sir, it is.” Paulina paused. “Are you both to attend the dinner as well?”

“I am,” spoke William. “Harry has a prior engagement. What was it again?”

“A polo match.” Harry felt foolish telling her that when she was already well aware of it. “I am to help raise money for a charity.”

“That is very kind of you, Sir.” Paulina smiled. “I am certain the charity is very much honored by your aid.”

“I believe I am more honored in being able to be of service. It’s important to help the children.” Harry said.

“That it is.” William commented. “But I daresay that the polo event won’t run long and the dinner following it shall end reasonable early. Perhaps Harry might be persuaded into attending the dinner.”

“You should,” she said much quicker than she would’ve liked. “That is to say, you should, Sir.” She cursed inwardly, her cheeks taking on a rosy shade. “Lord and Lady Fellowes have said it will surely be a very memorable evening.”

“I'm afraid that if I were to go, I’d surely have bruises all about me.” Harry said.

“Such bruises would surely be seen only as a reminder of your charitable heart.” Paulina had barely said it when she realized she was flirting. Dear Lord, she was fucking flirting as if she were in an Austen novel.

“Miss Balcázar is right,” Lady Fellowes chimed in. “Everyone would wish to know how it is you earned those bruises and everyone would be in awe.”

“You hear that, Harry?” asked William. “No one would be put off. I daresay you no longer have an excuse for not going.”

“I believe you’re right.” Harry smiled that soft, sincere smile that always made her heart flutter. “I must go.”

And from her place a few feet in front of him, Paulina’s eyes twinkled with delight at the prospect of his being there, even if his arrival would be during the latter half of the evening.