the hopeful

Pinned Post for The Honorable Jacqueline Eloise Mallory, The Hopeful

Crisp diction at her shoulder made Frances jump. Her face ran through a complicated range of emotions as Jacqueline advised her— surprise, embarrassment, then forced calm.

“I fear I have given you the wrong impression,” she said with a little laugh, trying to amusement. “It is intended as a gift for my father. He has an upcoming birthday.” The lie fell from her lips easily.

She turned her attention back to the woodwork. She couldn’t speak to Lord Ackerley’s artistic sensibilities or appreciation for craftsmanship, but he had surprised her before. The flowers he had sent her had been thoughtfully chosen and regardless of the object, instinct told her he would appreciate the gesture. The memory of his grin at her compliment during the hall sent her hand to her reticule. “I shall try my luck and buy it,” she decided, “as you say, a gentleman will never scorn a gift from a lady, and surely a father will never be displeased to receive a gift from his dedicated daughter.”

Completing the errand alone would be preferable, but there was no polite way to excuse herself from the lady’s company. Frances tilted her head toward the shop door, inviting Jacqueline to join her. The tinkle of a bell announced their entrance.

Frances and the shopkeeper made quick work of payment, which left the business of wrapping her purchase. The shopkeeper, a mustachioed man with ruddy cheeks, pushed forward several spools of ribbon. “What color, miss?”

“Pink,” Frances answered without thinking, and quickly turned the same shade as the recommended color. She turned to Jacqueline with a laugh. “Strange, I know, but the Duke is fond of it.”

Frances and Jacqueline were left to occupy themselves as the object was wrapped. “Strange, to think of you so grown and on an outing with the other ladies. A pity that your sisters did not accompany you. How is Delilah?”

--

“Of course,” said Jacqueline with a smile. “Please give your father my regards for his upcoming birthday.” She didn’t believe Frances for a second but what would be the point of saying such a thing? It really didn’t matter anyway, regardless. Jacqueline was just curious how different Lady Fitzroy was now compared to in their youth.

But, regardless, she followed Frances into the store. She hid her smile when Frances got flustered about selecting pink and waved it off. “A man of excellent color tastes.” She wondered which gentleman was so fond of pink in Frances’s life. She was sure it’d come out eventually, considering that Whistledown always had something to say about everyone’s business. She’d keep an eye out.

As they left and began walking, Jacqueline nodded at Frances’s words. “It’s strange for me too. Susan is here, but she’s still not fond of shopping so she’s getting a mud mask currently. Delilah is well and very much enjoying her life as a vicar’s wife.” How, exactly, Delilah was doing that was a mystery to Jacqueline but as long as she was happy it was all that mattered. “Unfortunately, Elizabeth is no longer with us, but her husband and my nephew are in town and it’s a comfort for us to have him. I’m imagining Delilah is adjusting to married life and won’t be joining us this season but perhaps she and her husband will arrive next season. Have you written to each other recently?” She doubted it as Delilah would not risk her own stellar reputation even for an old friend, but it was the appropriate question to ask considering the long history.

Jacqueline hadn’t known whether or laugh or cry at Whistledown’s news. 

Truly, she hadn’t felt like doing much of either. Honestly, she just wanted to pace and pace and pace and pace...

But she could not so she continued her daily activities as if she laughter and the slights didn’t bother her. She pretended as if she never heard or saw them when confronted with the overtly cruel comments. She kept a smile on and did what she did best—played pretend. 

She wanted to scream. Scream they didn’t understand, that they mistook her for a lovesick fool when how could someone not fall for such a good and close friend? But she had been fortunate enough that Will’s name hadn’t been attached to the news, but it wasn’t difficult to find out if you snooped long enough. It was a matter of time before he brought up the matter.

Or, worse, not speaking to her ever again,.

However, she knew it was not good news when she was summoned to Papa’s study. She’d only seen it happen to Elizabeth once during her season and no one had returned there since.

Till Jac, anyway.

Her father wasn’t even reading the Whistledown paper when she came in. He was just sitting there waiting for her while the newspaper was laid out neatly in front of him, as if she were stupid enough to not know why she’d been called to speak with him.

“Papa--”

“You will be given three pounds for the picnic auction coming up,” he began with, surprising Jac and thrilling her. She’d never even held a pound note in her hand, let alone three--

“But this will be the last chance you’ll be given, Jacqueline. After your lackluster presentation to the queen and now this scandal with you having barely just begun, I do hope you won’t be disappointing your mother and I further. There is no excuse for this, with the excellent examples your sisters set before you.”

How she shows love as a pro and con list:

The pros: you get unwavering loyalty, a good listener, a dear friend, a supportive ally, does things for you without needing to be asked, gives you what gifts she can provide, remembers your triumphs, soothes your failures, will never forget momentous events in your life

It was a strange thing, to be back, Britain and its rather restrictive customs could feel more foreign to him than the rest of the world. He had become used to existing in clothing that would be deemed scandalous by London society - for he certainly could not wear all of the layers of modern dress whilst experiencing the Indian Summer. 

Calling itself felt strange to him, certainly compared to the more casual interactions that were common in many of England’s colonies around the world. He had developed a habit of simply turning up when he wished to see someone (occasionally with a request of a bed for the evening) and relying on his natural charm to get through. 

It had certainly been a long time since he had been in the company of an unmarried, noble, Lady. He could not help but take her in as she entered the room, eyes searching for what was familiar, and what was not. Clever eyes analysing her features, as if trying to match her to the words he knew her by. He realised he had perhaps stared for too long, surprised by the amount of change she had undergone since he had last seen her 12 years ago. 

There was a lot there, he decided, that matched his imagination of her, she had the poise, and curiosity, and charm that her letters had always portrayed. It was this realisation that finally settled him, a genuine smile crossing his face. 

“I could never be too busy to sate my curiosity in meeting you again!” He told her, relaxing in his chair. One foot rested on the other leg, whilst his elbow was supported by the chair’s back. “I have often mused, Miss. Mallory, that I know London best through your own eyes! I cannot imagine being here and not knowing you in person.” 

He nodded in response to her questions “Aye, my health is good, and likely will only benefit from settling for a while. I fear I have rather neglected it at times. A love for mountain climbing, and a long healthy life do not go hand in hand! What of you and your clan? Are your sisters enjoying their marriages?” He shifted to slightly to a much more interesting question, a challenge sparkling in his eyes. “Are you finding the season to your liking?” 

“I am sorry to have missed him! I will leave my card with you of course, you can count on my call when he is with you once more.” 

--

How easy it was to settle in familiar banter, like it had happened a thousand times before. And it practically had, just in letters with months in-between. She’d practically learned the art of banter via letters to him, her first target practice for charm and wit, and even the knowledge of she had perhaps been too vulnerable via the written word did not change this fact. 

“I hope to travel someday,” said Jacqueline, preparing her tea after the servant brought to tray, “as you know. However, it is hard to deny that there is a beauty all its own in knowing the nooks and crannies of a singular place. Knowing many people is good, for certain, but you never learn a person—or a place—without proper one-on-one conversation that takes slow and extensive time to grow in trust. You could lead me around the world with no trouble but you could drop us in London and I could get us back to proper areas with no trouble while you’d still be making heads or tails of where we were. So you do know London as I do, through the eyes of a genteel lady, and that may not be the London that interests you, however.”

She made a positive approval at him finally taking care of his health but then paused at the challenging question. It wasn’t the first challenge he’d ever given her but it was different to see it in person with a glint in his eye and sitting in the chair across from her with all the confident ease in the world. However, it was certainly a test and, rather than offense, was rather cross he’d gotten the first one in before she, as wary as she’d come in.

But perhaps he’d come in wary too, in his own way, or at least guarded. The fabric of their long-standing acquaintanceship would change, inevitably, with this new variable. 

Jacqueline would like going to Almack’s more if she were more fashionably dressed. However, she couldn’t avoid it forever and she had a day she could actually attend without her sister Susan in tow so she might as well. Susan detested Almack’s and refused to go unless forced.

She walked in, spine a bit more rigid than she’d like in fear of judgemental looks, but it eased immediately when she saw a familiar face at a table, her conversation partner rising just as Jac arrived.

Jacqueline had a bit of pocket money to buy art supplies for her and Susan, but that didn’t mean Jacqueline couldn’t spend a bit of time window shopping. Susan disliked shopping in general, preferring to get in and out as soon as possible, while Jac loved the hustle and bustle of shopping and daydreaming she culd afford the nice things she could see in the window. 

She left Susan at the bookstore and went to wander. The typical London smell was covered by food vendors along the street and she nearly spent a bit of the pocket money on some roasted nuts but she passed along with great reluctance.

She was glancing into the modiste’s window when she saw the reflection of someone passing behind her that she recognized. She turned and indeed, they’d met at the ball.

“Miss Vane!” she called, working hard to catch up with the taller woman’s stride, leaving both Miss Vane’s and Jacqueline’s chaperones in the dust. “I’m not sure if you remember me as there was plenty of punch to go around at the ball, but I’m Jacqueline Mallory and we shared the bench together. Our conversation unfortunately got cut short when my next dance occurred but it was enjoyable and, should you have time, perhaps we can chat as you conduct your business on Bond Street? You seem a very thoughtful sort and most enjoyable company. Feel free to say no, of course, as I do not wish to impose.”