the sister

Goodness, LADY AURELIA MERCHANT has arrived in London. SHE is 26, of the KENT MERCHANTS. Though they are RETURNED to the Season, we can only describe them as WITTY and FLIRTATIOUS, dear reader. Accompanied by HER BROTHER AND SISTER-IN-LAW, they have settled in and are accepting social calls. But be warned: they are known for their BITTERNESS. (Leyla, 22, She/Her, EST)

biography

wanted connections

-

Sidney wondered when or if it would occur Miss Merchant that she would be his only dance partner this evening, or if anyone else would even notice. He had not come to this party to be seen, and had no plans to dance, and so it was with this in mind he focused for a moment on the dance itself.

When she spoke again, he looked back at her to catch the way she took in her breath, the smirk returned to his lips. Her suggestion was forward, bold, tantalizing–he ate it up like candy, his teeth digging into his lower lip in thought.

“It is something to consider, but I do not think I have a preference between my bedroom or my study. Perhaps you could enlighten me on where it’s best to store ladies’ gloves, Miss Merchant.”

Sidney instinctively leaned down to listen as her voice got lower, deciding to redirect his gaze to a sparkly hairpin. The space between them seemed to hum with what was left unsaid and, for his part, he felt that telltale rise of heat from beneath his collar.

“The next time I see you, allow me to fulfill your every want and wish, Miss Merchant. Until then, you can rest assured I will be thinking of what those may be–beyond returning your gloves, of course,” he added with a bit of levity as he noticed another couple had noticed their proximity.

“The Season grows short. I would hate for you to waste your time with unattractive men, so I do hope to see you soon.” The dance came to a close and he removed his hand from her waist, but before he pulled his hand away, he gave hers a squeeze while his gaze lingered on hers. He began to applaud the band. “Saturday, I can be found quite alone at my home.”

-

Their dance comes to an end and there’s something of a renewed glow about her, as though she’s been invigorated to make it through the rest of the night. It was an odd sort of reminder that the ton could on occasion, actually be rather fun, when every ball didn’t feel suffocating and the dancing didn’t feel so desperate. It was reassuring to know there would always be a place for indulgence, even in the face a potentially bleak future. 

“Saturday, then. It seems like a fair day to retrieve my gloves,” Aurelia says, with small chuckle, her mind already drifting to whatever odd excuse she would have to use to escape her brother’s watchful gaze. She could only imagine his horror if he ever came to know even half the conversations she had shared with Sidney throughout the season. 

“As for the debate between bedroom or study...” she says, as she glances down at her dance card, attempting to discern which gentleman she was to dance with next, “I do believe you have two of my gloves, Mr. Wyatt. One might suggest why settle for one location, when you can use both?” 

Her playful, teasing grin gives way to something slightly more genuine, as she looks up from the card. “Thank you for the dance,” she says, “And, of course, for the oh-so insightful gaze into your style of courting,” she adds, unable to remain wholly serious while expressing gratitude. 

“Have a good night, Mr. Wyatt,” she smiles, “I shall look forward to Saturday, after all, I have rather missed that pair of gloves.”

*/

        Aurelia’s confession to why and how she’d ended up there warmed her inside,  a soft smile making its way to her lips even if both their hearst hung heavy that night.    She nodded, diligently pouring a glass of Madeira with just a spritz of rum, little combination that she’d wound up stumbling upon with that very woman.    Was it the very best?    No,   but the Madeira wouldn’t be ruined unless the rum was too much and overpowered it.   And,   for this to happen,   her hand would have to be quite slippery as she was an expert in this.

     With a theatrical bow,   the redhead offered the glass to her friend,  holding the other in her hand.        “   Milady,     “     She looked up at her through her lashes and, once Aurelia had her glass,  rose her own to the middistance between them.      “   A toast.   “

      To what?    To misery,  to fear,   to stress?    Lost chances,  lost prospects,  the agony of not fitting society possibly ever again?        “   To destitution.    “       She concluded,   deciding to embrace the possibility of falling from grace,   as though something in her heart just needed to - grieve.      “   And being destitutes together.   “       She sat on the bed once more,  legs criss-crossed,    and pat the empty space.   

*/

-

“To destitution and togetherness,” Aurelia echoes, before taking a sip of the heady liquid. It seemed to be a rather appropriate toast and Aurelia supposed that’s what she had always adored about Henrietta- the ability to turn their infamy into something of pride. After all, why did they have to bear the shame of something that would only ever earn a man a pat on the back? It was a cruel thing for two spirits like their own to be confined to the rules of a ladies. Especially, when it had grown clear that they were destined for so much more. 

She takes a long sip from her cup. The drink was strong, but not overpowering, or perhaps she had just grown all too used to drinking her sorrows away. She takes a seat upon the soft bed, relaxing against the plush sheets and pillows. 

“Tell me, Rietta,” Aurelia says, “What was it like to be away from all of this? What was it like to disappear?” Her questions don’t come from a place of anger or resentment, just an ache to know something other than this constant cycle of frustration and sorrow.  

-

Sidney could not recall the last time he was rendered speechless. Her question was not unique in and of itself, he had been asked plenty of times by ladies and gentlemen alike. And his answer was always to deflect, or recount the most basic of understanding of courting, as if he knew or cared or valued how that worked.

For some reason he could not bring himself to supply such an answer and his brow furrowed as he made a big show about thinking on it. The fact that her implication was that he was not one to court but one to be a rake meant he either had to fess up to her assumption or…

His hand wrapped around hers, small and slight, while the other rests at her waist. Miss Merchant peered up at him with those dark eyes of hers, warm and inviting with that hint of mischief he wished to pursue.

“I would dance with her,” he said simply.

“As for your gloves, I have them kept in my bedside table.” He smirked, knowing full well how that might be taken, and hoping Miss Merchant would catch his meaning and veer off the path down courtship.

“I am bored often,” he added. “The accessories of ladies do not often haunt my thoughts, but I have never kept a pair of ladies gloves before. So I suppose you could say you have captured my imagination.” He spoke low enough so others could not hear, but for the next part, he dipped his head closer to her ear just as they turned away from the crowd: “Is that what you wish?”

-

Aurelia watches as he ponders her query, certain that in this odd game of wits and words between them, she had surely scored a point. Only, he manages to catch her off guard with his response. There was no grandstanding, sarcasm, or even a clever quip for her to cling on to, just a plain sort of simplicity to it all, so much so, she was nearly tempted to believe him. 

“Oh, well, now I feel rather special,” she smirks, with a small shake of her head, “If only dancing were the way to every man’s heart...now, that would certainly make my life so much easier,” she muses, amidst their mirrored movements, hyperaware of each point at which their hands met. 

“What an curious place to keep such an item,” Aurelia replies, inhaling deeply as the music willed them nearer to one another. “Is that where you would wish for me to collect them from, then? Your bedroom?” she asks, as something devious forms on her lips, “Or am I to assume based on our past encounters, that your study is your preferred place to conduct such business?” 

There was a certain rush to having such a conversation on the dancefloor, the delectable thrill of danger heightened by their proximity to one another as they moved in unison. 

“Oh, I have many wishes...” she says, words soft and low, “...many wants, too. But I think I shall keep them to myself, for now, so that when this dance ends and I’m obligated to entertain the advances of less handsome men for the sake of my future, I can rest easy knowing your imagination is running wild trying to determine exactly what my wishes and wants might be.” 

His smile returned to him and he nodded, glad that Aurelia accepted his words. Of course, he couldn’t be sure if she believed them but it was enough if she knew he meant them, that he was sincere. 

The smile was short lived though, it twisted into something far more embarrassed and he barked a nervous laugh, shaking his head. “No, it’s nothing like that… I mean, I feel something strange with him but we’re only friends, it isn’t… It’s certainly not what you’re implying.” Clearly, he was struggling to properly differentiate his friends from his romantic prospects.

“I’m glad you see it that way,” he said, nodding his head, “I suppose… Well I’m already here, would you like to picnic with me? No courting, I swear it.”

-

“I would love nothing more!” Aurelia grins, as she stands up, “Though, I do intend on learning more about this friend of yours, later on,” she teases gently as they exit the drawing room. 

There were certain faces around the Ton that had become familiar to Emmeline, despite never truly haven gotten to know them. Lady Merchant was certainly one of them. They had both attended Sid’s parties, both become rather competitive at cards, even engaging in a tie breaker during one game.

It left Emmeline with the sense that there may be a kindred spirit in the other Lady. Someone who might understand her… unusual interests and opinions.

That feeling was only intensified when Aurelia appeared at her door wanting a reading. Emmeline’s fingers were already itching to start their familiar process, the well rehearsed shuffle, the familiar images across all the cards faces.

“I do not doubt it! They are an intriguing tool. If you believe in the mystic they are the perfect item to channel powers we cannot understand. If you do not, then they are a mirror of our own feelings and beliefs, unlocking thoughts we did not know we had.”

“Either way I can guarantee you that you will always come away from the cards knowing more than you did before!”

-

Since first seeing the other woman around the ton, Aurelia had found Emmeline to be quite intriguing. She couldn’t help but wonder how a person who appeared so poised and well put together had also become a frequenter of Sidney’s parties, which rarely saw such refined individuals. But sitting here in her drawing room, Aurelia somehow felt at ease in her presence, as though there was some sort of unspoken familiarity between them. 

“Well that’s quite reassuring to hear. If there’s anything I’m in need of, it’s most certainly more knowledge, be that about myself, or better yet, what’s to come,” Aurelia replies with a small smile. “I think it’s important to avoid ignorance, however difficult it may be to face our own realities.” 

“In all honestly, I do not know entirely how I feel about mysticisms,” Aurelia admits, “But sometimes I look around and notice all the many unexplainable happenings in the world and I can’t help but wonder if such an explanation lies in the realms beyond our current understanding.”

“Regardless, I am most excited to have this reading done by you, Lady Thorne. Do tell me what I must do for this process to work,” she says taking a seat across from the woman. 

-

“All right, all right.” Sidney shook his head as Miss Merchant described two heinous scenarios for finding her match, reaching to take the glass he’d just given her back and turning to the nearest table to leave both drinks.

“I detest the thought of a lady of your radiant mien to be wasted on gentlemen who do not further flatter your appearance.” He offered his arm with a smirk. “If I may say so, I think we would make a handsome couple.”

The words left his mouth before he realized he’d said them, or even wanted to say them. It was not unlike him to say such things to a lady with the intent of having her just for the evening, but another thing entirely when he wasn’t sure that was all he wanted.

“On the dance floor,” he added, a second too late. “As for the matter of your gloves, they are in my safe keeping. I know how particular ladies can be about their gloves, so I find it rather peculiar you abandoned them so easily.”

His face remained set in a smirk as he nodded toward the dance floor. He absolutely recalled the circumstances under which she’d taken off her gloves, and he hoped she did, too. “Shall we?”

-

Aurelia can’t help as her lips pull into a rather self-satisfied grin when Sidney agrees to a dance, brow lifting at his use of the word couple. It lingers long enough without contextualization for her mind to grow curious as they head to the dance floor. 

“Humor me, Mr. Wyatt,” she says as the notes of a melodious waltz wander in, “What are you like when you actually court a woman?” she asks, an ever-so concentrated frown forming on her features, “Come to think of it, have you ever actually engaged in serious courtship, Mr. Wyatt?” she finds herself casually wondering, as their dance begins, “Like of the rings and flowers variety, as opposed to the gloves kind,” she adds, hoping he might catch her meaning.  

While much of Aurelia’s past had been far more public than she cared to admit, she had realized that despite their many years of knowing one another, he never seemed to speak of any family or of his own past. She could only wonder what odd troubles he might have gotten into over the years. 

Well-practiced feet glide across the floor gracefully as they move. “My gloves are not abandoned,” Aurelia chuckles, “Although, now that I think about it, maybe I ought to leave them in your care a little longer. Perhaps, they’ll give you something to think about when you’re bored,” she smirks. 

Ernest frowned as she continued, rather disliking the way she spoke of her own prospects. The implication that she was sparing him the misfortune of being with her could not go unaddressed.

“It wouldn’t be settling, not in the way that you mean. Aurelia, you must know you are beautiful, and that you are marvelous company, nobody could ever be resigned to being with you. Even if it was just because it made sense in my own case as a matter of convenience, the honor would be mine, not yours.”

He smiled at her description and found himself embarrassed at the realization that he could relate to it so fully. It showed on his face in a sort of bashful way as he looked down at his hands, pulling on his fingers. Clearly, her words brought someone to mind.

“I might,” he said carefully, “I don’t think… I don’t think such emotions come very easily to me. I’ve only recently discovered them and I find it rather unsettling.” He raised his head to look at her. “I don’t know if that’s normal or not.” He sighed and shook his head. “Regardless, Aurelia, if we are to be friends you must know I disagree whole heartedly that you have any need to let go of such hopes for yourself, since you do have them. I’m… I’m sorry I suggested that you should on my account. Of course you deserve a love marriage.”

-

Ernest’s words immediately brought warmth to Aurelia’s heart. “Thank you,” she says quietly, a small smile forming on her lips as she took his words in. It was instinctual to reject such a compliment, but Ernest had said it with such compassion and warmth, that she would be hard-pressed to respond in any other way. If Ernest, as such a new friend, could see such good things in herself, than perhaps, she ought to start believing in herself.

The bashful smile on Ernest’s face, however, is enough for Aurelia to become instantly intrigued. “Emotions can be difficult but I promise they are every bit normal,” Aurelia replies, “Might I ask who has sparked such a thing in your heart? The must indeed be a wonderful person to have earned your affections.” 

“Oh, you need not apologize, my dear, Ernest!” Aurelia exclaims, “Your intentions were every bit pure, something that can’t be said for a great deal of members of the ton. If anything, you have flattered me and we shall be better friends for it. Love may be a fickle thing, but at the very least, I know I will always have wonderful friends in my life.” 

ladyaurelia​:

“I don’t think money is the issue so much as I am,” Aurelia replies, rather honestly. “I think more than anything, they are rather keen on ridding me as a responsibility.” Charles and Lydia were ready to start their own family, one that was clear did not include place for her. It was a hard pill to swallow, given how close she had once been with her brother, but relationships changed people and perhaps, priorities too. “But, I haven’t lost faith. I will try and find someone, yes, but should that not work out, I shall simply have to find a new path. I shall feel far less worried about forging it, now that I have you by my side, once more.”

“You’ve always had an eye for such things!” Aurelia exclaims, “Come, let us go!”

The sentiment gave Lydia pause. She could not imagine being turned out by her brothers, let alone her parents. Where were they in the equation? A fire was being stoked within her. Aurelia would not be alone on this journey. If she had to sponsor Aurelia herself, she would. Lydia saw something in her friend - promise. She’d let her down before, but that certainly would not be the case this time. 

“Shall we?” Lydia beamed as the footman called for a carriage to be prepared.

It was strange thing, Aurelia thought, the number of places her path had crossed with Lady Thorne’s-- ladies’ nights, balls, and even the occasional late night party. She had known of the women, yes, but only ever from a distance. It was hard to imagine she might have much in common with a diamond, and yet, after hearing of Emmeline’s readings at card table and witnessing her continued success at the game, Aurelia could no longer maintain her curiosity. 

A few letters later, Aurelia found herself making her way to Emmeline’s residence for a reading. If there was ever a time she needed future guidance, it was most certainly now.  

With her small coin purse in hand, she follows the butler down the hall, until she arrives at the living room. “Hello, Lady Thorne,” she says, “I hope you’ve been well. I must admit, I’m terribly intrigued by the prospect of a reading. I’m rather curious as to how such things work.”

“Oh pish-tosh! Charles can certainly afford to sponsor you at least another year. Lest that stuffy woman who dares to bear my name squanders all his funds before then.” Lydia meant this as a joke, but deep down, she wasn’t sure what was happening behind the doors of Charles’ home. It reminded her how grateful she was to have not one, but two brothers. That thought bled into another - Conrad. “Perhaps… oh, never mind.” she whispered to herself. “My point is, you mustn’t lose faith.”

Lydia grinned and held back a squeal of delight. This was just what she’d needed to pull her out of her grief. Maybe not completely, but it would help to keep her mind off of it for at least a little while. “Oh, you know how I love coming up with spectacular new designs.” One of Lydia’s favorite things was watching a design go from a simple sketch to a full gown. “This is going to be wonderful!”

-

"I don’t think money is the issue so much as I am,” Aurelia replies, rather honestly. “I think more than anything, they are rather keen on ridding me as a responsibility.” Charles and Lydia were ready to start their own family, one that was clear did not include place for her. It was a hard pill to swallow, given how close she had once been with her brother, but relationships changed people and perhaps, priorities too. “But, I haven’t lost faith. I will try and find someone, yes, but should that not work out, I shall simply have to find a new path. I shall feel far less worried about forging it, now that I have you by my side, once more.”

“You’ve always had an eye for such things!” Aurelia exclaims, “Come, let us go!”

-

It was not lost on him that Miss Merchant uttered his name, his full name, and it was obvious that he rather liked the sound of it. He tempered any reaction with a clenched jaw, and nodded. 

“I see,” Sidney said when Miss Merchant supplied her insight on suitors. His eyes scanned the room as he continued to speak. “I should take your advice and halt the riffraff at the door for my next party, and invite all of the dukes and princes I know.”

Exhaling, slowly, he finally looked back at Miss Merchant. He was not sure what sort of attention he wanted from her, really–there was the obvious kind that they had briefly indulged in while in his study alone together, and that was never unwelcome, but perhaps he was curious to see her in the natural state of the ton. Where they had to be on their best behavior, and where they may be seen, together.

He hesitated then, remembering her words. He shrugged a shoulder. “I’m not interested in being one of the many names on your dance card, Miss Merchant. But I did want to remind you that you left something behind at my house.”

Sidney nodded toward the crowd. “Who here tonight is a legitimate suitor?”

-

“Oh, Mr. Wyatt, please do not even joke about such things. I might be a lady, but only by name. I’m afraid I’ll always be ‘riffraff’, by heart,” she grins. “I should rather hate for Moira to turn me away at the door, after all these years.”

She looks down at her drink, sensing the way he seemed to quietly be observing her. She hadn’t seen him since that night in his study and wasn’t quite sure what to make of it all. She attempted to replay those moments in her head, the brush of his lips against her own, but it was still impossible to discern exactly he was thinking, now, with eyes of the ton upon them. All she knew was that everything had begun to feel increasingly unresolved. “Ah, yes. The gloves,” she says, “They’re a rather nice pair, wouldn’t you say? I do hope you’re taking good care of them.” 

“I promise I have every intention of retrieving them...soon,” she says, offering him a warm smile, “But, you know of my circumstances. With the season’s end in sight, I owe most of my attention to the men who wish who do wish dance, however less fun, exciting, or desirable that may be.”

Her eyes scan the crowd, “Perhaps, I ought to try my luck with Lord Arundell-- he’s a a balding widower with four children. The poor bloke is probably desperate enough to overlook any scandals attached to my name. Or better yet, Mr. Barlowe, might do-- sure, he’s twice my age, but he has money. From what I’ve gathered, he’s grown desperate for any woman with title to look his way.” Aurelia purses her lip, as this had already become far more dull than the conversation she was used to making with the man beside her. “But do entertain me, Mr. Wyatt. A penny for your thoughts?”

-

Curiously, shining in the light on the ground, there is a single, silver cufflink sitting in the dirt.

“Hello again!” said Tom the footman from the front door, perplexed to recognize a lady outside who had just come inside. “How on earth did you end up out here? Please, come in, before you catch a cold!”

Through the doorway, the Countess herself stood with her back to a long, white side table. Her arms gesture while she speaks, her elbows precariously near a delicate-looking block with sculpted ivory pegs sticking out of it. 

[OOC: You found your item! There is no way to swipe it off the table without being noticed by Victoria. And, you found a man’s silver cufflink on the ground outside! What do you do? Roll for round three and reply here, before posting link in the Discord.]

-

Guest / Invite No. 11 / Entryway / Roll: 8

Aurelia’s eyes linger on something shiny on the ground, bending down to pick it up, she examines the object and realizes it’s a cufflink. Looking around, Aurelia finally spots what she’s been looking for all along, but with Victoria so near by, she wouldn’t be able to nab it. Biting her lip, a new a idea strikes her. 

-

A wave of something - maternal instinct - washed over Lydia. Her biggest fear in coming back to town was that she wouldn’t be accepted, but all too quickly she had stumbled into a new purpose. It was becoming quite clear that there were other, better things to be done in London. Internally, she collected herself. “There is nothing wrong with waiting to marry. After all, the gentlemen in this town certainly take their time, so why not us ladies?” 

Lydia inspected her friend. The young woman was not lacking in the beauty department. Her bright eyes and friendly affect were quite nice. Her smile, dazzling. “Say, Auri, what would you think of accompanying me to the modiste this afternoon? We can stop at Gunter’s for ices, it will be like old times.” Lydia realized in that moment that she needed this friendship far more than she had originally thought. She was not about to let it wane again.

-

“Unfortunately, this is the last season Charles is willing to sponsor me,” Aurelia explains, as she looks down, “The luxury of time, is one I’ve seemed to run out of.” There was a part of her that envied the men of the ton, who always seemed to have time in abundance. As a woman, she often found herself bound the the whims of her brother’s never having much to call her own. 

“A trip to the modiste and Gunter’s sounds most lovely,” Aurelia replies. She can’t imagine a more pleasant afternoon, than rekindling an old friendship. “Perhaps, you might help me select some fabric for a new dress?” she proposes, “Something exciting and eye-catching, yes?”

“My sympathies, that must be a strange change in your life.” There was an understanding look in Daphne Mortier’s eyes, but she never once glanced at her son or unearthed the sort of her unexpected empathy. Her ghosts were her own and their graveyard was private, locked against visitors no matter how kind.

Alexandre wasn’t surprised at her reticence, accustomed after years of silence to know when explanations would go ungiven, but there would be an extra plate at dinner that night, of that much he was certain. No one would ask why, they didn’t need to.

“Oh, my sister is extraordinary social, even more than I am. It seems as though she meets someone and she instantly captivates all their attention, becoming greater friends with them than I am.” Some might have seen his words as self deprecating, but there was a bright current of pride in Alexandre’s voice as he spoke of Margot - for all that they’d been through, as singed as they were around the edges, Margot was the one that still shined the brightest, undamaged by smoke and ash.

Watching as his mother wandered further away from them, eyes on the ground, Alexandre offered up a smile. “That’s a danger offer you make. I think my older sister would be pleased to make a friend as well, but my brother… he’s antisocial compared to the rest of us.”

“Indeed,” Lady Mortier agreed as she came up behind her son, just in time to hear his words before they broke off into laughter. Something glinted in her hand as she held it out towards Miss Merchant. “I believe you were looking for this. I’ll be in touch soon so we can work things out with my children, I think it will be an advantageous meeting.”

-