Realistic or Modern Victorian London

[GreyZone]

"Once again, avoiding my statements," she grumbled under her breath in his direction.


"You know," she commented toward Lucille after being seated in the cab. "He would be much more tolerable if he would actually hold a conversation with me instead of prancing around to whatever he feels up to answering. Has he always been such a man of mystery? Or am I just special and he is trying to enthrall me?" She said the last part in a teasing manner, barely bumping Victor's elbow with her own.


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[Syrrus]

Lucille eyed the other woman up and down. It was strange to imagine that Lucille was older than her brother, seeing how her face did not look a day over twenty. "Indeed." She responded, shortly. It took her a while to elaborate, she had to stare her brother down first, who attempted to ask why they were talking about him as if he weren't even there.


"He imagines himself to be a classical poet, a man born out of his time. He always circles topics and discussions which might either but him in uncomfortable shoes or tell just how much of a trickster and pretend artist he actually is."


"Yes, let's not mention that there is certain things one should not speak about." Victor said, frustrated now. "Certain improper things."


"True, though then perhaps you should never have mentioned them in the first place, instead of leaving them hanging in the air."

 

[GreyZone]

Margaret laughed at the banter between Lucile and Victor. "Oh, he played the piano and the violin for me and it was quite lovely."


She leaned closer to Victor and whispered, "Sort of how you attempted to touch my shoulder and talked of me undressing for you but then acted as if it was /immoral/ to even speak of me as anything but am innocent young girl? Or am I mistaken?"


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[Syrrus]

"Oh gods, give me strength." The poor young man rubbed his eyes with two fingers behind his glasses. Clearly not prepared to handle to women in the same day. He peered down at Margaret. "See, this is exactly what I mean. I would never marry, because your kind is just too difficult to handle!"


"Difficult? Yes, I would assume that we are, our kind is a true enigma, Victor darling."

 

[GreyZone]

"/My kind/?" Margaret laughed at that, touching his arm gently. "I am so sorry that we /tax/ you with our logic and reason. You know, I am growing to enjoy your dear sister more and more."


She extracted herself from Victor, making sure that there were no rips in her skirts that she would have to be mindful of when visiting the /queen./ "And to think you said you enjoyed my companionship. I am quite hurt."


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[Syrrus]

"Well, a man is allowed to change his mind isn't that correct?" Victor asked, glaring with frustration at the two women, though the look that his sister gave him caused him to quickly look down at his feet. Like a timid little dog. He did indeed enjoy Margaret's company, though he felt that she was indeed going to bring mistakes down him like rain from a clear sky.


"Victor is quite different when he is sober, far more enjoyable. I imagine your hangover is still keeping you from behaving like a proper young man? I shall take those glasses from you, before we reach the manor." Lucille said, sternly at the man who just nodded - approvingly.

 

[GreyZone]

"I think I am the one who gave him the hangover, and for that, I am sorry," Margaret replied to him, touching his leg with hers.


"Is there anything else that I should know before meeting her? He gave me very nondescript instruction when it came to the topic," she inquired, once again, of Lucille.


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[Syrrus]

Lucille shook her head. "Agree to everything the lady says and you will be perfectly fine, the focus will not be on you, anyway." She peered at Victor who seemed awfully uncomfortable and nervous, his hands trembling worse than they used to as the carriage rolled up a small gravel door, through a great black gate towards a great and towering manor.

 

[GreyZone]

She nodded swiftly, tucking one of Victor's trembling hands back between her own.


"I am surprisingly calm," she told him quietly. "Maybe my body is just shutting down. What if I die right in front of her? Would she notice?"


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[Syrrus]

"I doubt that she would." The carriage stopped and a servant ran up to them -quickly- to hold the door open. Lucille stepped outside first, greeted by two dark haired young women, who couldn't be much older than Margaret herself, looking the exact same and dressed in the same dark red dress Their faces was the ones of a doll, beautifully painted and with heavy jewellery around their necks.


"Lucille, thank the stars you are here--" "She's driving us insane!"


Lucille hugged them both, just as Victor stepped out of the carriage, aiding Margaret down on the ground.

 

[GreyZone]

Margaret let out a deep breath, holding Victor tightly to her as if he would run away if he got the change.


She forced a polite smile toward the girls, hoping they wouldn't immediately see through her. "Who are they?" She whispered to Victor, her arm tightly looped through his.


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[Syrrus]

"My sisters." He said, calmly, and with a voice that instantly caught the young girls attention. "Vic! Oh thank the heavens you decided to come here. We need to get her -out-" The twin to the left said. "As far out as we possibly can, she cannot stay a second longer." The one to the right said.


Victor nodded, nervously. "This is Margaret--" The nobleman began though interrupted by the other two girls. "Fantastic! You managed to find yourself a bride." The one to the right smacked the one to the left on the back of her head. "Don't say that too loudly or she'll hear you. Thank you for helping our brother, and us, Margaret."

 

[GreyZone]

Margaret smiled tentatively as the girls bantered back and forth, thanking her. For pretending to be a man's wife who she met last night in a bar.


"It's wonderful to finally meet you ladies," she told them after clearing her throat to actually get sound out past all of her nerves. "Who needs to get out?" She asked Victor after a pause.


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[Syrrus]

"Our grandmother, I imagine." Victor mumbled as he began to lead the young woman towards the house, his sister following close behind, saying nothing.


As soon as they entered the great hall, with suits of amour decorating the walls and heavy paintings of family members staring down at them, a elderly woman - dressed in a expensive white and blue dress. She was looking t them through a pair of rounded glasses, and had a expression which was unchanging upon her face.

 

[GreyZone]

Margaret's arm tightened around Victor's, a gentle smile frozen on her face. She was forcing herself to breathe, to look like she met queens every single day of her life.


Like he had instructed, she remained silent by his side. Maybe she could get through this entire meeting without having to say a word.


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[Syrrus]

"Edwards." The old lady said, directed at all of them - or perhaps only one, it was rather hard to tell. Victro gave her a weak smile and was just about to speak when he noticed Lucille, gesturing towards her own face. It took him a moment to realize that his sister wanted him to remove his sunglasses - which he did, swiftly and hid them away in his pocket.


"Ma'am, it is a pleasure to see you a--"


"Do not lie to my face, Victor."


"I-- I eh--"


"Do not stutter either."


The old lady glared at him, still without a single expression upon her face, and turned her head towards Margaret. "And who might you be?"

 

[GreyZone]

Margaret:'s fingertips went white she was holding his arm so tightly. And when the queen actually spoke to her...


"It's wonderful to meet you, madam," she spoke in a calm, collected voice that didn't betray her inner turmoil in the least. "My name is Margaret Doyle, and I am Mr. Edward's wife."


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[Syrrus]

"You married my grandson, though did not wish to take his last name?" The old lady asked. The old ladies voice were calm and uncaring, as if nothing Margaret or Victor said mattered the slightest. Victor felt awfully uncomfortable, as the old woman walked towards them, her cane clicking loudly against the hard floor with each step she took.


"I cannot say I am surprised." The woman said, her lips drawn together so tightly it almost looked as if they were glued together. "You picked a woman without reputation or respect for your name."


"With due respect." Victor begun frowning at the old lady. "You may speak harshly about me, though I would be very ungrateful if you utter one bad word about Mar--"


The hit came out of nowhere. It was rather surprising how strong the old lady was too, her can flew through the air and planted itself against Victors cheek with such force that he went flying to the side, straight into a suit of armor that fell to the ground like paper.

 

[GreyZone]

"Madam, I did take his last name, I only introduced myself with my maiden for I am proud of my Irish heritage and assumed it was a given that I now go by Margaret Edwards," she rushed out.


When the old woman smacked Victor with her cane, she tried to hide her shock and quickly darted to his side. "Are you alright?" She whispered to him, brushing the welt that was left ever so slightly.


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[Syrrus]

Victor was staring at Margaret, by accident, he had been looking straight at nothing though now nothing was blocked by a beautiful face. A red cut had appeared just below the cheekbone and his eye began to twitch heavily once a pearl of red began to run down it. "I'm fine, thank you, Darling..." He mumbled, rather out of character. As if he hadn't even realized what just had happened.


Meanwhile the old woman had placed her can back on the ground, turned around, and begun walking to the drawing room together with his sisters.

 

[GreyZone]

"I am so sorry, it completely slipped my mind--" she murmured, reaching into the bodice of her dress for a handkerchief, pressing against his cut with it.


"We should probably follow her," she said in a timid voice, offering him a hand up. "Again, I am greatly sorry. I will not make that mistake again."


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[Syrrus]

"Hmh?" He looked at her in confusion, as if he wasn't certain who or what she was talking about. Blinking a few times, Victor perked up and quickly rose to his feet. "Yes of course." He gently aided the young woman back up too, giving her a weak smile. "Do not worry, this was not your fault." He gave her forehead a light peck before hurrying after his family, to the great drawing room.


The ladies sat around the table, in the large sofa, talking and snickering - except the old lady, who gave all her attention to the cup of the placed before her. "Too much sugar." She said. "Send it back."

 

[GreyZone]

Margaret watched him with concern, brushing a light kiss against his cheek before lowering herself into a chair beside him. Margaret Doyle?! What kind of numbskull are you?! She had spent the entire train ride attempting to convince him that she was capable of this, that he wouldn't regret asking her to be the one to aid him. And she had spat on it all the moment the asinine name Doyle came out of her mouth.


She avoided the queen's gaze, her spine straightening ever so slightly when she had her perfectly fine cup of tea sent back. Who did that?

 

[Syrrus]

Victor placed his trembling hands over Margaret's, without looking at her. He had no time to lose himself in her gaze, or hopes for better days. He was living his nightmares, for now.


"So, Victor." The old lady said, looking his way. "How are things back in London, I take that you are still living like a rodent, just like your mother?"


Victor gave the old woman a empty smile. "Yes, I am."

 

[GreyZone]

Margaret quickly took his trembling hands in her own, in hopes of steadying them. She was surprised that the bitter old woman had never said anything about how much he was quivering.


She was too terrified to take a drink of tea, too terrified to do anything but steady Victor's hands and avoid the woman's gaze. Why did she invite her grandchildren over just to ridicule them?