Having weathered the
morning visits (which, for the first time ever were actually made
before noon!) Melissa had welcomed Michael's arrival. That the
gentleman was a rake had been made clear by the other ladies. They,
however, had fudged over the potential confusion as to her role in
their world. They had already acknowledged her and were unwilling to
concede they could be wrong until they had discovered all they could
of any truly scandalous gossip.
However, Michael's
explanation of the gentleman's avoidance of other young,
marriageable, ladies she was able to discount. The blushing girl, who
was doubtless enduring a scolding as Melissa recalled her, had made a
comment that two or three of her bosom friends had been similarly
engaged by the gentleman. Melissa may have been the first (although
no aspiring mamma would suggest anyone had beaten their daughter's to
this matrimonial prize) but she was most certainly not the only.
Melissa herself was
bemused. It had been such a strong response, she was quite sure what
it meant. The complications of her relationship with Phillip
intrigued her and lured her further into his life in order to
establish if there was any substance behind his suggestions. This
man's blunt directness and the shocking energy she felt in his arms
was new to her and, while her mind was following Phillip, her body
was undeniably chasing him. Francis. She rolled the name around her
mind and it somehow didn't fit. Having engaged briefly in fantasy she
mentally shrugged and returned to her two main tasks: firstly
establishing a final plan for their next outing to France and
secondly finding an establishment to convert into a hospital for her
young women.
It had been her idea –
the first suggestion she had contributed to the project that Mary had
not raised first and she could tell by her response that Mary was
delighted both by the suggestion and by the evidence that she really
was engaged with the notion of helping where she could. Ad they were
having such difficulties finding a doctor, Melissa recommended they
gather from Mary's circle of former colleagues a collection of
reliable and trustworthy nurses and keep them in permanent employ in
the hospital.
As she was having
difficulty with her French project, Melissa took a ride around town
with Mary, into the areas most suited to locating the kind of
hospital and facility they had in mind. It was not long before
Melissa was shocked into utter despair. She had grown up in a world
where everyone was slim but nutritionally provided for – they were
sustained through the aeroscaff and so never ate. Since coming to
this era she had been shocked by how incredibly fat the human race
could become – Mary herself was quite substantial (not fat, merely
heavy set and one who clearly began to retain weight once she hit a
certain age) – and it had taken her a while to become accustomed to
being such a thin person relative to the world around her.
Now, however, as she
gazed out of the carriage windows onto the streets of London she saw
filth and despair she had never encountered before. Her whole life,
curves and swoops and graceful arches had been in every shape.
Entering Regency London had introduced her to a blobbiness. But now
she saw the sharpness of chins, the hollowness of cheeks and bleak
despair staring at her from faces; many of them belonging to those
who ought to have been far too young for anything other than play.
After a conversation or
two with the women Mary called upon, her shock turned to fury.
Previously, her prime response to the doctors had been of confusion:
why wouldn't they want to help? Now it was disgust that, even when
offered money these men could not consider it worth their while to
reach out a hand to help a fellow human who was clearly in desperate
need. Her mind cast over the excesses of the men and women she
socialised with. Their food for a single party would probably
encompass the available food for several blocks of housing, stuffed
to overflowing with the rankest, most desperate members of the human
race.
And yet, the people
here really did help. It wasn't easy to see, but once Mary pointed
out an act or two which wasn't necessary for an individual to
survive, she began to see them more clearly. A door being held open
might be nothing in a world where you pay someone to do it, but here,
when it meant a few seconds more discomfort for one person to allow
another into the warmth first, that gesture was truly kind and
generous. Readjusting her expectations of what constituted a kind
gesture was not easy, but when she did, she murmured to Mary how
amazing it was that they should make such efforts when it didn't help
them to survive.
“Aye ma'am, but it
helps them remember they're human. It's a choice they make to prove
it to themselves day after day, that whatever anyone else thinks or
does, they are human and they deserve better. Every now and then
someone forgets, but there's not much can be done for them at that
point. Helping them stay drunk is really the kindest favour you can
offer.”
Melissa shuddered.
Andy's death and alcohol's relationship to the cause had utterly
turned her off the implication that being drunk was entertaining in
any way. Women in this society were not permitted to drink to excess,
so she would never have been able to publicly experience it herself,
but ow she found that not only had her private curiosity disappeared,
but her willingness to accept the inebriations of others had utterly
petered out. Mary knew more of this world though and, trying not to
judge the drinkers, she informed herself that in a world where
spirits caused so many bad things, the necessity of over-imbibing in
preference to a better life without spirits could only meant hat the
real life here was horrendous indeed.
Shortly after this,
when they were alone, Melissa begged Mary to return her home. She was
feeling broken inside and didn't feel she could cope any more. When
she reached home she retired and slept quickly – Mary had kindly
slipped a drop or two of laudanum in the glass of milk she insisted
Melissa drink, so she slept without being disturbed by her recent
experience.
When she awoke it was
with a new determination to follow her earlier purpose. Her world in
the future was dead and gone by now. The world here was something she
could improve. And although it would start with the freeing of Andy,
it would continue over the course of her life by the introduction of
an ideal of temperance among those living in despair, and a series of
hospitals and support networks. She had sufficient wealth of her own
to enable her to do whatever she wanted, and with the demise of Andy
she had inherited his fortune as well. She determined to spend a
large chunk of it immediately.
First though, she had
formulated a plan. She hurried to her bureaux, dashed off three
letters and ordered them to be delivered immediately.
The first tow were
responded to immediately. Michael and James listened to her plan –
James more carefully than Michael it had to be acknowledged, but he
would learn – and dutifully nodded. They left for the south within
half an hour.
The third was a
representative from the bank. He listened to her instructions with a
look of mild shock and was even moved to protest at one point. At
that, she immediately instructed him to bear a letter to the bank
manager and dismissed him. Within twenty minutes, the bank manager
himself was on her doorstep with a quiet, bespectacled gentleman who
bore himself with a dignity which she had not previously seen in any
of the people who could be termed employees. After profuse apologies
form the manager he took a personal interest in her intended
investments. He asked one of the same questions the clerk had, but
with significantly more diplomacy. After her clarification that her
intention was not to profit from this endeavour he stepped back and
allowed the discussion to flow freely between herself and Starke, her
new agent.
Within a relatively
short space of time he had produced details of the style of property
she was interested in, in a rough location. He mentioned the
rebuilding efforts which had left one or two large properties
abandoned near that general area and took it upon himself to identify
if any were fit for purpose. Less than an hour after his arrival,
Melissa had confidence that as soon as was humanly possible she would
have begun her revolution of the care of young abandoned women in and
around the London area.
As the boys were en
route to France and there was nothing more she could do, she prepared
herself for a ball. Throughout her gowning session, for the first
time, she really cared about what people might think of her outfit.
Until that point it had all seemed exotic and outlandish, but now
that pink looked too drab and the green too garish. Lavender was
lovely but was typically associated with mourning and meant she
couldn't dance. Mary, observing the signs, sighed and pulled a blue
and silver creation from the selection available. It meant she could
wear practically no jewellery and her hair had to be worn in a very
different style to the one she preferred, but it was all she wanted
for that night.
Looking into the
mirror, she was satisfied with the impact she made and sashayed out
to find herself some male excitement.
Within five minutes of
arriving at the ball she was besieged by supplicants to dance, but it
was almost an hour before she finally saw either of the two men she
was looking for – It was Sir Francis and her attention was caught
when someone exclaimed “Frank!” whilst looking straight through
her. She made to glance backwards in an idle curiosity, but instead
two very large hands wrapped gently yet firmly around her waist and
moved her to one side, while a voice just behind her ear begging her
pardon caused her belly to quiver and her knees to buckle.
His touch lasted
fractionally longer than was strictly necessary and he glanced at her
before he let go. She liked to think he was flirting, but the truth,
she was mortified to admit, was that he had felt her reaction and
was ensuring she was capable of standing alone before releasing her.
Horrified that he might ascribe her reaction to drink and deeply
embarrassed that he might correctly identify it (for some
inexplicable reason she was absurdly self conscious where ever he was
concerned) she snapped open her fan and retreated behind it.
