Chapter 4 Preparations

The estate was in complete chaos as all the preparations were being made. Maids dashed with their arms filled with fabric. Their petticoats barely touched the ground as they carried out their errands. Talking and hollering filled the air as the list of tasks was never-ending.

The grooms tried to manage the influx of carriages, which seemed to form a continual loop of arrivals carrying goods and people.

Rosalind was a general directing the troops. Her mood had significantly brightened once her daughter was not the one married off to the devil himself, and the king would reward the baron handsomely. It was the first genuine smile Lucy had ever seen grace her face. It sickened her stomach.

Lucy walked down the hall, void of emotion, till she came upon the foyer, where Rosalind stood in the middle.

“Margarite, make sure the seamstresses are on schedule! We have no time to waste!” Rosalind called to her lady's maid. “Has the carriage been polished?”

Lucy watched from the shadows before turning off. Breakfast and every meal since the messenger's arrival several days ago had been consumed with discussions of Lucy’s departure, since her stepmother threw herself into preparations so that Lucy would be sent off as soon as possible.

Portia seemed to say nothing as her mother spoke of fabrics, designs, and luggage. Pulling with her father being rewarded for his service to the crown, a rideable dowry would be bestowed upon Lucy.

The baron’s demeanor was uninterested, and he stayed confined to his study. He offered no comfort or words of encouragement to his young daughter.

The gold and riches would be a part of her procession. She did not know what the treaty entailed, and she did not care. It mattered little to her.

Lucy retreated to the back garden, which had become her sanctuary over the past few days. It offered her peace from the war-torn manor.

The book and diary she held were clutched to her chest as if they were a life preserver. Her skirts barely touched the ground as her feet quickly. The cream dress with embroidered flowers was a simple ensemble as she tried her best to blend in.

Her nineteen short years had never seen such commotion, and the days had been filled with fittings and etiquette classes. The things Lucy had done her best to avoid growing up.

Opening her book, she read about faraway places that she hoped she could teleport to. As the sun rose into the sky, Lucy looked up to see some scurrying about the gardens. Margarite.

Margarite was Rosalind’s loyal lady's maid who had moved into the manor with her. The maid’s words were a direct order from her stepmother whenever they spoke.

She had barely turned the pages when she heard the disturbance.

Lucy let out a groan, knowing she was looking for her. She could hide, but Margarite would tell Rosalind and her that the baroness would always believe the maid over he if she tried to deny it.

“Lady Lucy! Lady Lucy!” Margarite called.

As she got closer, Lucy decided to respond. “Over her Margarite.”

Margarite’s face was flushed as she appeared in front of Lucy. “My Lady, the baroness is looking for you.”

“I see, what does she need from me?”

“It is time for your etiquette class.”

Lucy stifled a groan. “Where is she?”

“In the drawing room, my lady,” Margarite said, stepping back to allow Lucy to pass.

Slowly, Lucy rose to her feet. Margarite followed as she made her way back through the gardens, as if to make sure she did not make a break for it.

Back in the house, servants stepped aside with side eyes as they saw her coming. Footmen opened the drawing room doors for her as she walked in to Rosalind, berating a chambermaid for something she had done.

“Do you not see the crease? Why would you bring me linens with wrinkles in them? “ she demanded, holding a napkin in the maid's face who dared not raise her eyes to meet the baroness. “Go! And do not let me see you again,” Rosalind said, throwing the napkin at her in a way of dismissal.

As the maid made her escape quickly, Lucy caught her stepmother’s eye. “There you are, come in and sit down, I do not have all day.”

Lucy quickly took a seat to avoid angering the baroness. “Do not slouch, we are not beasts even if they are,” Rosalind said as she clicked her tongue, standing in front of her stepdaughter.

Not a hair was out of place as it had been lined up meticulously. Rouge painted her lips and cheeks, which were in contrast to the dark green silk gown she wore.

It was night in day between the two women as Lucy’s bare face was speckled with freckles from her days in the sun.

“Now, we have no time to waste if you are to leave in a week.” Lucy’s eyes went wide at the revelation, but she stayed silent. “The king’s guard will accompany you along with the Duke of Camden.”

“Will the Barron be going as well?” Lucy dangerously interrupted.

Rosalind let out a laugh with a dismissive wave. “As if we would ever step foot in that unkempt land.”

She willed herself not to show any disappointment that her father would send her off, not bothering to take her himself.

“Anyway, we need to make sure you do not embarrass us in front of the duke. Which you will not do, correct?”

“Yes, Baroness,” Lucy replied.

“Good, there’s only so much we can do about your appearance, but a new wardrobe should be a great help,” Rosalind said, looking over her stepdaughter as Lucy ignored the comment.

“You’re marriage is the seal to the new alliance. We will be able to obtain new trade routes and goods. They may be barbarians, but their silks are the best.” Rosalind conceded.

“The king has been trying for years to gain an alliance with the demon kingdom. Year after year, he said no. The wise ones knew to avoid the king when the replies would arrive. His mood must have improved….” Rosalind pressed her finger to her lips as her thoughts drifted to marriage plans for Portia.

Lucy would not be surprised if she put her on the next carriage to the palace in hopes of her becoming a mistress to the king.

The next few hours were spent with lessons on how to behave, eat, speak, and dance while Rosalind constantly reminded Lucy to sit up or stand straight.

Freedom finally came when Rosalind ordered beauty treatments in her chambers. On arrival, she saw that Meghan had laid out various lotions, perfumes, and rose petals next to her bath.

They worked on scrubbing Lucy’s skin, making it feel on fire, but she would take this over spending more time with her stepmother.

Meghan carefully plucked her lady’s eyebrows after being given specific instructions. She was careful to perform her task right, or else Margarite would be the one to fix her mistake—something neither of them wanted.