The British are Coming
Apr. 19th, 2012 11:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
livinginanhgwellsnovelLady Grantham had taken her time sifting through the clothing to select her ensemble just so. More than once she wished for her ladies maid as she dressed behind a screen and coiffed her hair in a glass, discarding the awful station uniform for something a great deal more pretty and suitable to a woman of her age and station. She occasionally paused her efforts to give instruction to some of the other women, but universally shooed away the men who thought to ask for her advice. Her opinion she would give, but what made them think she had any idea how one was to get in and out of men's fashion was beyond her.
When she stepped out into the streets of Venice, Violet felt a sense of ease come over her. It was if she had been holding her breath since the moment she opened her eyes in that cell and was only now letting it go. This may not have been her time, that was clear, but she thought that she could manage to blend in for a little while at least. This place she understood. These people she understood. Her decision to beam down, as she had heard others calling it, had been impulsive, and she knew that if she ever wanted a chance to go home, she would only find it back on the station. For now though, she would stay in a place that would not slowly drive her mad as the station seemed to be doing.
For the first hour or two, Violet walked in the richer streets of Venice, watching, listening, and taking note of all of the social queues. Beggar children frequently clutched at her, but she ignored them. She had nothing to give and even if she had it would only have encouraged them to ask for more. Otherwise she was left relatively unmolested, an dowager walking the streets while the young men and women cavorted around her.
The entire city was in full celebration, and it did not take Violet long to discover that there was to be a grand fete that evening and that a small black and white invitation was all that one needed to gain entrance. But Violet was a foreign woman in a city full of foreigners. She would need to seek legitimacy if she wanted to claim her place in this new society and her quick mind knew of just the way.
Her quiet plotting was interrupted at the sudden appearance of Mycroft who though casual and unhurried as always, looked like a man with a mission.
When she stepped out into the streets of Venice, Violet felt a sense of ease come over her. It was if she had been holding her breath since the moment she opened her eyes in that cell and was only now letting it go. This may not have been her time, that was clear, but she thought that she could manage to blend in for a little while at least. This place she understood. These people she understood. Her decision to beam down, as she had heard others calling it, had been impulsive, and she knew that if she ever wanted a chance to go home, she would only find it back on the station. For now though, she would stay in a place that would not slowly drive her mad as the station seemed to be doing.
For the first hour or two, Violet walked in the richer streets of Venice, watching, listening, and taking note of all of the social queues. Beggar children frequently clutched at her, but she ignored them. She had nothing to give and even if she had it would only have encouraged them to ask for more. Otherwise she was left relatively unmolested, an dowager walking the streets while the young men and women cavorted around her.
The entire city was in full celebration, and it did not take Violet long to discover that there was to be a grand fete that evening and that a small black and white invitation was all that one needed to gain entrance. But Violet was a foreign woman in a city full of foreigners. She would need to seek legitimacy if she wanted to claim her place in this new society and her quick mind knew of just the way.
Her quiet plotting was interrupted at the sudden appearance of Mycroft who though casual and unhurried as always, looked like a man with a mission.
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Date: 2012-04-26 12:25 pm (UTC)"Are you certain? That is quite generous of you," she said and turned a smile to Mycroft as if she were genuinely surprised by this kindness. "But your household must be far to busy to attend as when you are all attending the fete," she protested.
no subject
Date: 2012-04-26 02:27 pm (UTC)Mycroft didn't smile, but was amused inwardly, and likened the situation to the tale of the Emperor's New Clothes.
"Will you be able, mother?" he asked, in the manner Italian's expected the English to treat their mother. "It was a rather long journey."