Of Tea...and Things

Of Tea...and Things

Susan Skylark

Copyright 2018 Susan Skylark

Smashwords Edition

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Table of Contents:

In Which Miss Iris Misses Tea

Pertaining to Dowagers

Extreme Measures

A Sewing Lesson

Riding to Hounds

On Uncles

Impish Delight

A Long Awaited Meeting

Of Plots and Plots

His Lordship’s Night Out

A Questionable Personage

An Introduction to Villainy

A Little More Scandal in the Park with No Tea to Follow

Into the Woods

Scandals Various

The Great Enemy of Bureaucracy

Other Books By This Author

‘The Last Shadow,’ Excerpt

The Pallid Knight (‘The Greylands: Volume V,’ Excerpt)

‘Once a Thief’ Excerpt

‘On Sleeping Beauties: A Foible’, Excerpt

Wisdom’s Children (a Story from ‘Over the Hills and Far Away’)

In Which Miss Iris Misses Tea

There she stood in her second best dress on the front steps of her husband’s marvelous and imposing townhouse, clutching the most disreputable portmanteau in the staff’s possession, or at least the most scandalous specimen that could be procured on short notice. She would not even have been allowed to keep the dress, had it not been considered quite improper to allow her back inside to change into something less grand. She had never imagined when she had stepped out that morning to make a call upon a certain influential social matron that she would be facing such a crisis upon her return, had she known that to be the case, she at least would have worn her Best Dress, a scandal in its own right certainly, but one easily overlooked in the even deeper scandal that had washed over her with all the rage and suddenness of a tsunami. Of course she had never worn the Best Dress, no one did, not unless the Queen herself happened to stop by unannounced for tea! Her current surprise was no less had that been the shock awaiting her but it was certainly far less pleasant, or so she assumed, never having had tea with Her Majesty, she could not be quite certain, but she thought it was at least probable.

She tried to plead again with the dour faced butler but he only shook his head grimly and pointed harshly down the road, as if she were naught but a beggar woman squatting upon the doorstep rather than his mistress of a decade. Former mistress it seemed. Said the appalled housekeeper, from behind the grim brute of a butler who seemed suddenly all brawny shoulders, a feature she had never before paid much heed, move along miss, it would not do to make a scene.

With a final sigh, her shoulders slumping and her elegant train trailing dejectedly after her, Iris descended the proud and fashionable steps, wondering what the society papers would say on the morrow and how many hidden eyes were watching from behind seemingly vacant windows. There was no sense arguing, it was just the way things were. She had forgotten, well she knew this day might come, but she had hoped something would happen to spare her such an ignomious fate, that her husband’s fondness for her would somehow protect her, that he might forget, but it seemed that he had not and no amount of love, however inordinate, could make up for the indignity she had caused him, the insult was unforgivable and imperiling his family line as she had was perhaps the greatest indignity of all, if not a crime in and of itself.

‘Miss,’ the word haunted her, she who had only that morning stepped out as Mrs. Iris Andromeda Baren Candor Donaldo Eveleff Garand Hatt Indigo...Zebula. Twenty-six surnames, one for each letter of the alphabet, outlining her husband’s extensive, impressive, and most ancient lineage, but now she was simply ‘miss.’ She opened the bag hopefully, for perhaps her future lay therein, but there was nothing within, save a few sentimental knickknacks she had brought with her upon her most fortuitous marriage. Once fabulously wealthy, her material worth was now as diminished as her name. She had a few coins about her person, a surplus of lace handkerchiefs, and a fan, but nothing else save the clothes on her back and the hat on her head. Perhaps she could still return home, she doubted it, but it was the only thing she could think of to spare herself from an even less desirable fate.

She raised a hand to hail a cab, a thing no proper lady would do, for that is what one had servants for, so it took no little time to actually attract that attention of a driver and get him to pull his overworked nag over to the side of the pavement whereon her former ladyship stood. They assumed she was having a fit or communicating with some other personage or fainting or something appropriately ladylike, not trying to get the attention of such a loathsome creature as a cabby. But at last someone did dare to thwart all common reason and social propriety and pulled over to see what the perplexing dame was up to, but not before a rather scandalous looking person, who made Iris’s skin crawl even at a distance, sidled up to her most knowingly and said in very familiar tones, there’s but one thing for you to do miss, you’re still a pretty-ish thing, and don’t you worry, we’ll be waiting when you finally resign yourself to reality. He winked at her in a most reprehensible fashion and then slouched off rather too smugly for anyone’s comfort but his own.

Iris shuddered in revulsion as she climbed into the cab, gave her address, and tried not to think as they rolled off in the direction of her childhood home. She couldn’t, absolutely not! But if her parents likewise disowned her, it would be her only option. But no, they wouldn’t, they couldn’t! But they did. The cab drew up in a very unfashionable part of town and she paid him his fare, all she had left and with nothing extra for his trouble. She couldn’t tell if he was angry, scandalized, or seemed to understand her plight, so blank were his face and eyes, the result of a lifetime of carrying to and fro those whose business was none of his. The vehicle rattled off and she prepared to face her parents, hoping against hope that they would not see things as all of society did, that this scandal was none of her own doing, but they undoubtedly would.

Her father was a craftsman, he worked with his hands, and while he made a good living for his large family, such a family was not likely to be the source of a bride for one of society’s elite; it just wasn’t done. So it was quite the fairy tale to those who knew the family, and quite the scandal to everyone else, when his Lordship had chosen Iris to be his bride. It was the habit of some of the great lords’ sons and certain wealthy young bucks to go ‘slumming’ amid the lower classes as both a form of amusement and a means of temporally escaping the stuffy and inflexible world into which they had been born. They’d don ‘rough’ clothes and attend a public ball in the less affluent parts of town and dance the night away with many a miller’s daughter and tradesman’s niece. It was in just such an environment that Iris met her husband, well former husband, and he was so taken with her that he insisted on marrying her.

Many insisted that he would one day rue his choice, mostly those with eligible daughters of their own, and today seemed to be proving them right. She was neither rich nor powerful nor did she know anyone who was, but her family was respectable, if middle class, but most importantly, she came of a large and healthy family. Her mother had been prolific in the production of children and he had no doubt that it was a trait his admired lady would likewise possess. So they were married, much to the delight of everyone who had any care or love for the happiness of those involved, but all others were appalled, most especially his peers and relations. Gradually they got used to the idea and the scandalized talk and impolite remarks vanished into the background as other, more interesting scandals arose to replace them, but they would no doubt spring back to life after today’s little affair.

It was exactly ten years and nine months to the day since she wed what she thought was the love of her life, but here she stood outside the door of her childhood home, hoping that her parents would welcome her home once more. But the unemotional maid that answered the door did not look like a bearer of gladsome tidings, said she in a scandalized tone, please come round to the back, miss, the front door is only for proper visitors.

Ugh! At least they answered the door, perhaps they just wanted to avoid more public scandal, best to keep this affair away from prying eyes in any case. She hustled to the door that opened off a side alley into the kitchens, hoping to find peace at last, but she was merely handed a few table scraps for her trouble and told that the master of the house, though not unkindly, was not prone to humor beggars who repeatedly accosted his servants. Beggar?! But in truth that’s what she was, she had dared marry into one of the Great Families, and in failing to uphold her part of the bargain, after the legally prescribed period, she was cast back into the street, and having thus embarrassed herself and all the Greats so thoroughly, her family dared not offer her succor, lest they seem complicit in the eyes of all society in this most unfortunate affair. There were also yet children at home and the presence of such a specter lurking about the house would undoubtedly affect their chances of marrying well, or at all. To them and all society, it was as if she had never been. She wasn’t even considered as one dead, one who at least had lived and would be missed, rather she no longer existed and never had.

What was left to her? She considered the filthy and disreputable man who had accosted her, almost as dreadful as her handbag, but she shuddered in disgust, she’d rather starve! Staring down bleakly at her meager handful of scraps, the only legacy her parents would bequeath her, she knew she very well might. But it would be far better to die an honest, though wretched death, than to play the harlot for her bread. But was there no other choice? She sighed heavily as she slunk out of the alley, little heeding where she was going but knowing she could no longer remain where she was, all of her attention was focused inward on the disaster that was now her life.

It wasn’t her fault, or so she hoped, she really didn’t mean to be barren, she came of fruitful stock on both sides, but in those ten years and nine months, she had never given her husband even the hope of a child. But as far as society saw it, she had deceived him, wasted precious time in which he might have been fathering children, endangered the stability of the family line, for what would happen if he died without leaving children? She did have to smile, in a grim and ironic sort of way, that she had had ten years and nine months, just in case she happened to conceive on the last day of the prescribed ten years, you never could tell, but as she had not produced an heir in the final nine months either, she was unceremoniously cast from her home and society, driven from safety and security like a common thief. And now her only hope was to become a harlot, this too elicited that grimly amused smile, for what safer woman for such a job? There being so slight a chance of producing bastard children and the lady herself being cast out of all decent society, in desperate need of both sustenance and protection.

Better to face the Wilds than suffer such a fate! She stood on the edge of town, her unwitting wanderings having brought her thus, near one of the great gates that opened in the wall surrounding the city and allowed traffic in and out during daylight hours, but which were firmly shut every evening to keep Things out. What Things, she had never rightly heard, it wasn’t proper for her young female mind to be apprised of such Things, but rest assured, between the Wall and the Watch, she’d not need to worry about any of them. She just needed to focus on finding a decent husband. Well, that and having a superfluity of children. She had succeeded quite well in the first case but failed abysmally in the second. With a heavy sigh, she marched straight out the gate and into the wide world without and none dared stop her, for though a lady of breeding NEVER left the Walls without a proper escort, it was even more taboo to interfere with such, no matter how improper seemed her intentions.

She had travelled abroad several times with her husband upon various errands and visits, but she had never left town alone and afoot before, certainly not as a girl, for even people of her father’s lowly social status had Standards. But she was quite thoroughly disgusted with Standards and for a time relished the odd looks shot her way by the various farmers, tradesmen, and servants that passed her by upon their own errands. She found it quite exhilarating at first, to be thwarting social conventions so thoroughly; cast her out would they?! Well, she might just as well spurn them! She’d leave of her own accord and that was that. The leaving part was easy, it was what was to be done afterwards that terrified her enough that the ratty man’s offer didn’t seem so bad upon recollection, but she chastised herself as a milk-hearted sniveler and kept marching further away from the only life she had ever known, but just what was she speeding towards?

Things. Oh why oh why would they not tell her about Things?! Not knowing was probably worse than the most horrid truth, then she must resort to making things up and a young girl’s imagination could be quite gruesome, likely more so than the actual reality. Well, this was her big chance to find out. And whatever her fate, it couldn’t be worse than harlotry, not that she knew much about that either, just enough to encourage her to produce a baby or ten lest it be all her future. She started to cast back within her mind, seeking stories, rumors, gossip, lies, anything she could remember of life outside the city, beyond the town, things her brothers discovered in their studies, overheard snippets of the servants’ gossip, gran’s fireside tales, the talk amongst her father’s friends over their pipes when she was thought long abed.

Of course she had been taught, as all decent and proper young ladies were, about the Old World, and the Ancient Days, of all the horrible and uncouth things that had happened before civilization and decency and Standards, when the world was wild and young and wide, when people were the myth and all sorts of uncouth folk roamed the earth. But all that happened in another age, another time, probably in another place, for nothing very interesting ever happened in or near the city, at least that she had ever heard of, at least not interesting to her, she didn’t consider the latest social scandal intriguing in the least, which may be why she never quite fit in to Society, children or not.

As the day began to fade into evening, she allowed herself a brief respite from her introspection to take the lay of the land and consider what might be her best option for the imminent night. The fields and pasturelands and neat little coppice woods that had straddled the road for the entirety of the journey suddenly gave way before her to a wood seemingly as dark and expansive as the night sky that seemed intent upon devouring all that remained of the dying day. The road itself skirted this impressive forest by a wide margin, continuing on its prim and proper way, seemingly contemptuous of the wild and unkempt country that bordered one side. Well, thought she, Society and their Standards have utterly cast me out, why should I tread their roads and prescribed paths any longer? So with a shrug of defiance, she stepped off the smug little road and clove her way into the murky and trackless wood.

The first thing she noticed was that her fashionable garb, though quite suited to the trackless wastes of societal gatherings, was quite a hindrance in actual trackless wastes. The second was that it was quite dark, as if one had foolishly locked oneself inside a wardrobe. Unable any longer to ascertain what was before her, and tripping most inelegantly over some branch or rock, and even uncertain where the edge of the forest now lay, she could do little but sit down and cry, for at last her heart had caught up with her mind, originally numbed by the shock of it all, she had been able to act almost dispassionately, but out here, at last, her sorrow and fears overtook her. Of course proper ladies were not allowed to cry, but as she was no longer of that ilk, she unashamedly wept her little heart out until at last she passed blissfully into unknowing sleep.

She did what?! said the astonished, though otherwise thoroughly tidy, man in wonder.

She vanished into that dratted Wood, sir, said the equally flabbergasted henchman, adding quickly, I offered her the usual and assumed she’d come begging the moment she discovered just how limited her options were. I never took her for the outdoorsy type.

If she was just some common trollop, began the distinguished looking man, dressed to the height of current fashion, as he pensively paced the room, it would be of no matter if she did choose to so lose herself and be set upon by Things. No one would care or notice, but this chit was special! I had a double-sided list as long as my arm of gentlemen callers wanting to make her acquaintance. It is not often such a scandal rocks Society and when it does, our men of Fashion should be able to take advantage of it. She’s costing me money, lots of money, and worse, notoriety! Her reputation alone is worth more than five of my most talented ladies combined. He glared at the hapless minion as if this whole fiasco was his fault, have we no options?

You know no one who goes into that Wood ever returns, stuttered the terrified henchman, at least in a recognizable form.

True, sighed the dandy, too true, you should have just kidnapped her outright.

Knowing what we do now, I would have, but I like to give them the chance to despair first, smiled the lackey wickedly, it makes their final surrender and despair all the sweeter and seems to even make them grateful to us for saving them from utter ruin.

Why can’t she just be reasonable like every other girl in the realm? mused the cad in a gentleman’s garb.

There were whispers you know, sir, said the flunky in dubious and hushed tones.

Yes, slurred that non-gentleman, and if true, perhaps she would have been a most troublesome acquisition indeed. But was there truly any proof that she did, indeed, he paused cautiously, as if to ensure they were truly alone before continuing in a quieter voice, as he uttered the astonishing word, read?

I managed to speak to several of her former staff, both in her husband’s and her father’s house, and they agreed that she did in fact do just that, said the sub-villain, not daring even to say the dastardly deed aloud.

It is not, mused the senior villain, that a lady cannot be allowed to read, but it is her choice of literature that is of the utmost import. You are certain it was not just flimsy novels and the society papers?

Nay milord, said the henchman grimly, it was books, solid and heavy books, any she could lay hand to, not that it was an easy thing in her social circumstances, but they say she found rather creative ways to go about it, vulgar chit!

Does she know something we do not about that forest or Things? asked he.

I doubt it sir, said the henchman boldly, for even the most well read of men knows little of that cursed Wood, and whatever means she used to contrive access to a book, it is very unlikely she would come across anything helpful in that regard when men with ready access to such information know nothing.

Quite true, said the non-gentleman in growing good humor, perhaps she would have been quite an encumbrance to own, a pity, but perhaps it is for the best after all.

While Iris could see nothing going on around her, not only because she was sleeping as one dead, but also because that peculiar Wood was draped in an unnatural night, that did not mean things weren’t going on. While all the human folk in those parts thought this particular Wood haunted, cursed, forsaken, et cetera, it was really none of those things, for it was always near to bursting with activity of various sorts and tenanted by some of the most upstanding individuals imaginable, though perhaps they did not recognize the Standards as holy writ, which was probably the main argument against calling such folk civilized, they were quite civilized in their own particular way, one which Society might very well have called uncouth, could they ever glimpse such a spectacle of course. But as they couldn’t, all were kindly spared that sort of unpleasantness.

A lady?! said a very astonished voice, lurking in the shrubbery near where said lady reposed in quite un-Standard fashion.

Quite, chuckled a second voice in reply.

Of all the strange and wonderful things one might glimpse in this peculiar Wood, mused the first, this is one spectacle I never thought to see.

Anything is possible here, said the second voice in ill-suppressed amusement.

Anything out of the ordinary, agreed the first, but such a spectacle is quite ordinary in the outer world.

But it would be a peculiar scene here and thus one would think it quite possible, along with all the other impossible scenes one might certainly witness herein, continued the second, no longer hiding his mirth.

I suppose your reasoning must be sound, said the first with a shake of his head, if not here, then certainly somewhere. He glanced back at the sleeping lady, but it seems so mundane.

Again you are stating the obvious, my friend, smiled the second, please stop!

But then what shall we speak of? quoth the first with a wry grin.

Now who is the one being mundane? laughed the second outright.

True, said the first ruefully, I sound like some oblivious gentleman at a societal function where we can speak nothing but the blatantly obvious.

The lady’s presence is corrupting you already, said the second in feigned horror, what will happen to the balance of our acquaintance?

Dreadful thought indeed! agreed the first, but lapsing into sudden silence as the lady in question stirred.

Who is there? queried she, trying to sound valiant and unafraid but managing only to sound like a lonely kitten mewing forlornly in a dark alley. Iris glanced about her futilely, all about her hidden in mist and shadow. At least the utter black of night had given way to a twilit world of murky shadow but she was still nearly as blind, not even able to see her feet amidst the brume, but she was quite certain she had been wakened by voices.

The first looked at the second in question, he only shrugged and stepped forward out of the swirling mists, that the lady might know what it was that lurked unseen just beyond sight. She gasped to see that she was not alone in this surreal world, but as she had been anticipating Things, two gentlemen dressed in quality but conservative evening dress were not exactly what she had been expecting, seeing her quickly hidden look of disappointment, the first said to the second, see, she was thinking to discover something less mundane in this peculiar Wood as well. Upon which, all exchanged Standard greetings, before the first spoke once more, how come you here madam and may we be of any assistance?