England truly was a fascinating place, though Victoria had to admit that she was happy to get out of London and into the green fields, dotted here and there with copses of trees, and interspaced with exquisite country houses. It was no lie to say that London was a city among THE cities of the world, with its commercial streets catering to any need, and also inspiring in people the desire for things that they never knew they had wanted before. Fine Dutch porcelain, beautiful coloured silks from the east and glittering jewellery wrought in gold and Indian gems, these were certainly things that one might commonly want to get their hands on. But then there were any number of new age goods, the finest in industrial productions, products from the far flung outposts of Britain and all sorts of oddities like colored birds and glimmering oriental goldfish in bulbous glass bowls. There had been commercial cities before, but nothing like London, where one could get anything you could think of, and much that you couldn't.
Then there were the buildings, some of staggering size, the imperial houses of empire. She'd seen townhouses before, certainly, her family had one after all; and it wasn't like America didn't have large buildings of cut stone and colossal pillars. It was just that here in England you could feel the history all around, it practically spilled out of the joins in the stone. Still, the press of people had been uncomfortable and the fresh air of the countryside was an invigorating change. She was after all a child of nature, and she leant from the carriage that whipped her through the rolling grass fields, letting the wind blow her curling brown hair all about.
They were going to stay in a castle, and that was a truly thrilling prospect for Victoria who had never seen one before. Across from her sat General Williby Jones, an aging moustachioed General in his fine red coat who had kept up a lively conversation. She supposed that the man was starved of it, for his plump wife seemed to be ever on the verge of sleep, having woken herself on more than one occasion with a loud snort that had echoed about the carriage interior.
Beside her was Jane Doyle, a English girl a few years her junior. They were both on a socialite tour of the country, which would return to London when the 'season' began, the highlight of which would be meeting the old queen with whom she shared a name (Though she preferred to think of herself as just Tori). Victoria had needled her way into being allowed to visit the country, it was after all the ancient motherland, and still the greatest empire in the world. She had travelled with a lady's maid, the old woman was to watch over her and see that she got into no trouble. It was the way things were done, though her family had ensured that they provided the stiffest and most eagle eyed of the family's servants; Victoria did have a penchant for mischief.
Her maid was currently in a bed back in London, with an ailment that had laid her low. And the red headed girl beside her had taken the old lady's place as a companion, and ostensibly so that each of them could watch the other.
She was a terrible choice, for Jane had hardly looked at her from where she sat open-mouthed and breathless; and if Tori was known to occasionally dabble in trouble, Jane was hardly likely to keep her in check. If the girl wasn't constantly watched then she was liable to walk off with whatever man was loitering nearby, and it was a wonder that her parents had let her out at all. If she'd been Tori's daughter, the girl would've been married immediately, lest she create a scandal. A more wanton woman could not be found, and even now she could feel the girl's legs compulsively opening and closing beneath her long skirts, as her small chest rose and fell.
Jane was currently engaging the old general in conversation and not a little fluttering of her eyelashes; which had sent his white moustaches quivering. Victoria's eyes widened and rolled as she turned back to the window, the old man must've been seventy if he was a day. She had no doubt that should the carriage have broken down for an hour, young Jane Doyle would've pulled the general into the bushes to help 'tie her shoe', and she didn't think it was a battle that the old officer would walk away from.
At that moment the line of trees that had run alongside the road broke away, revealing a large open estate, in which on the shore of a lake, sat a gleaming castle. It wasn't quite what she had imagined, though she'd only ever seen one in a book, and likened it to a military fort, though fancier. It's large encircling wall and the four-sided keep that rose within were smooth and painted a brilliant white. It sat starkly against the shimmering lake and the green stand of trees which met the walls on one side.
'Are castles supposed to be white?' She turned to the general, who's similarly snowy moustache sat against a face which was beginning to turn red under Jane's attention.
'Uh..uh.., oh, well, not necessarily.' He said, his eyes turning to hers. 'Castles were typically plastered and painted, not like the ruins we have today. This one has been restored by our host, Lord Black. He's gone to some length and expense I hear.'
Tori had met him in London and had the pleasure of being whisked round the dance floor by the tall man in his richly adorned officer's uniform, his huge hands had nearly circled her waist when he'd taken her through the lifts, and had lingered past when it was appropriate, and longer still. She welcomed the cool air from the window on her face, which warmed as she remembered his auburn beard tickling her neck in the darkened courtyard, and how she'd pulled away as another couple had stepped out for air.
'Has his family always lived here?' She queried, wondering if earlier Lord Black's had stood upon those ramparts in its defence, red beards whisked by the wind.
'Uh, no.' The old man chuckled. 'He acquired it a few years ago with the intention of restoring it and claiming it as his family home, he's somewhat. . .eccentric.'
'And randier than a goat.' Jane whispered, leaning towards her and giggling in her ear. Victoria couldn't help but laugh at the comical statement, though she agreed it could very well be true.
