Realistic or Modern Victorian London

[Syrrus]

"I see." The old woman tasted the tea which was placed before her, the maid standing just by her seat, trembling just as much as Victor seemed to do - although for a different reason. "It will do, thank you." The queen said, causing the maid to rush away as quick as she possibly could.


"How long are you staying in England, ma'am?" Asked Victor, to his sisters' horror.


"Do you not want me here?" The old lady asked."


"How am I to possibly answer that without lying?" Victor said smiling weakly.

 

[GreyZone]

Margaret's hands tightened around his, warning him. He had spent to long instructing her on being respectful toward the queen, and here he was...


As he rudely spoke to his grandmother, her mind began to drift back to their conversation on the train, everything they had discussed. She was more than fascinated with him, curious about how he could be so content with living alone in his own mess.

 

[Syrrus]

Victor had to lower his gaze, for the glare that the woman gave him was a deadly stare. He couldn't help himself however, no matter what they did, this lady would never appreciate how hard they tried. She hated them, almost as much as they hated her, combined. Though his eyes searched its way towards Margaret and he gave her a gentle smile. She was worried for him, how sweet. Though he worried himself with the thoughts of his grandmother's influence on such a young woman. Perhaps it had been wrong to take her with them.


"Give me your hand." The old lady said.


"Pardon?"


"Give me your hand, now."


Victor looked between his sisters before doing as he was told. The old woman took hold of his hand and removed the glove, to stare intensely at the palm before, with one very quick motion, pulled up his shirtsleeve and shouted out in horror at the markings that she saw, digging her fingernails into his wrist.


"You filth!" She shouted. "How dare you pollute your own system, your body given to you by Gods kindness?!"

 

[GreyZone]

Margaret's heart fluttered against her will at his kind smile, and she quickly started to return it before the queen reached for his hand.


When she pulled up Victor's sleeve, Margaret was not shocked by the marks there; they had already discussed his use of drugs, and she had seen the syringes in his apartment. And yet, she wanted to yank his arm away from the woman's judging eyes. Funny, she had thought it just as distasteful earlier until someone was so outward about it.


She brought the hand of Victor's that was not being scrutinized to her lap, clutching it tightly with both of hers. Of course, she didn't have gloves.

 

[Syrrus]

"Please, ma'am, could you let go of my hand, you are damaging my wrist." Victor mumbled, though the angry glare he got in returned told him more than her words could.


"More damage than you already caused?! I highly doubt that, young man." She pushed his hand away from her, wrinkling her nose in disgust. Gently, Victor began to pull down his shirtsleeve, as if he did not mind the old woman's judgment one bit, attempting not to remove Margaret's hands from his own.


"Are you not ashamed?" The old woman asked, though his response hardly made her less angry.


"I am not ashamed no, that would be disrespectful towards my own name and status." He smiled at her and recived another hit with the can, this time over the back of his head.

 

[GreyZone]

Margaret quickly moved to help him readjust his shirtsleeve, taking his hand back into hers the moment she was finished.


She was ready to beat him herself for his impermanent responses, but it looked as if his grandmother was going to take care of it for her. Her breath caught sharply at the cane against Victor's head, and she shot up to examine the damage. She mouthed a curse, her hands parting his hair to look at the result before drifting down over his neck and to his shoulders. "Are you trying to get yourself battered to a pulp?!" She hissed in his ear.

 

[Syrrus]

Victor looked down at Margaret, who seemed just as unhappy with him as his sisters did. It frustrated him however, he was a man. He wasn't supposed to be treated like this, by anyone. Though he nodded at her. "I appear to be looking for trouble." He mumbled, placing a hand on the back of her head, gently, before returning it to her lap.


"So, I traveled all this way to see you whimper in the arms of a common wealth?" The old lady looked at the both of them, frowning.

 

[GreyZone]

Margaret would not allow him to just ignore the marks inflicted by his grandmother's cane, hoping that they would heal on their own. "I know that you know what is best," she told him quietly, looking him in the eye. "But I do not like to see you hurt." Her hands found his again in her lap.


For some reason, that cut Margaret deeper than she had presumed it would. She spoke as if Margaret were automatically worthless and a bile creature because she did not come with a dowry equal to the yearly earnings of a small country.

 

[Syrrus]

"Yes, that is what I intended." Victor said, calmly as he watched Margret, even though speaking directly at his grandmother. He did not seem to interested in the old woman's ways and definitely did not like her tone. Especially not towards the young lady sitting next to him.


"I will repeat myself, and you may strike me for doing so. I do not mind you insulting my honor, or my sisters, or my mother or even my father if you felt so inclined. However." He glared at the old woman with anger. "I do not allow you to speak ill of Margaret. She took her time to come here and meet you, yet you insult her?"


"Am I suppose to be impressed by such 'kindness'?"


"No, of course not. What am I saying, you are worth too much for any company that isn't of royalty. Though I will not say it again, one ill word about my dear Margaret and I will be the one to do the striking."

 

[GreyZone]

It was so strange to her, to hear someone speak of her in that way. She had never had anyone who cared enough to stand up for her so, or anyone who thought she needed it. Was this just how upperclass women were treated, leaving women like her to fend for themselves? She couldn't decide if this was normal, if all nobelmen treated their wives like this, or if it was simply Victor's way.


Regardless, her hands tightened around his and she looked at him thankfully. Even though she was the one doing this favor for him, she felt as if she owed him even more free drinks.

 

[Syrrus]

"You do not have the courage to raise your voice, how would you possibly have courage to strike me?" The old lady continued, clearly not convinced.


"I do not believe it is courage you need to hit a fragile old woman. Though saying that I lack courage to raise my voice and show anger is incorrect, I simply do not wish to do so. I see no purpose in shouting at you, nor anyone else; for the moment will not pass quicker if I do so. Though, if I have to I will."


He squeezed Margaret's hand with his own, smiling lightly towards his grandmother who still looked very unimpressed.

 

[GreyZone]

Margaret's eyes never left his face as he spoke so calmly to his testable old grandmother. All she knew was that if the woman had stricken her twice and insulted her as she did Victor, it would have been highly impossible to remain placid in her hair, so calm and collected.


It only increased her admiration for the young man, since she did not possess his ability to keep such a level head at all. Even though she hardly knew him, she felt some sort of pride at his grace in handling the matter. Margaret returned his squeeze, a slight smile playing on her lips.

 

[Syrrus]

"Very well. Are you staying for dinner?" The old woman asked, looking - now - directly at Margaret instead of her grandson, clearly already decided to ignore him completely. Victor did not seem to mind, he was more interested in the odd expression he had noticed upon Margaret's face, he gave her a smile in return, though said nothing to the old woman.


Lucille on the other had was feeling very uncomfortable with the whole situation and gestured towards a grand piano standing in the corner of the room. "Would you please play a piece for us, Victor, I am certain ma'am would enjoy that immensely."


"I doubt she will, but I can see what I can do. " He got slapped over the back of the head for a second time, though instead of making any noise of fuss over it, he simply got out of his seat, unbuttoned his coat and threw it over his shoulder like a one shoulder-cape and placed himself upon the seat in front of the piano.

 

[GreyZone]

"I believe so; however, it is not my decision to make," Margaret responded slowly, watching Victor's face for an indicator of if that was an appropriate answer.


She immediately perked up when Lucille suggested he played, her eyes alight as he sat down on the bench. After he had explained the basic mechanics of the instrument and how to understand the language of it, she was fascinated. Maybe she could even recognize a bit of the scale he had taught her the night before. That was if she lived to see the next morning, when she returned home after giving no leave of absence.

 

[Syrrus]

At least Victor knew how to handle music. His hand moved over the keys in gentle and passionate movements. Beethoven, Mozart, there was nothing he couldn't play. No matter how quick or soft. It was obvious, looking at him s he played the melodies he knew by heart, that there was nothing in the world he loved more than the romance of music. Though even if his songs managed to ring through every hall, every room and every heart in the whole building, it still managed to leave the oldest of the company completely untouched, so untouched in fact that she rose from her seat and left the room, without further notice.

 

[GreyZone]

Margaret was a bit startled when the queen left, but as soon as she did, rose to stand behind Victor so she could watch him as he played.


She took in everything--where he placed his hands, how the level of pressure on the keys changed the dynamics and tone of the piece, how his fingers were directly connected to his mind and how they seemed to dance over each other. It was so different from the music played at the bar by cheap performers who dared to call themselves pianists. She was growing to be thoroughly infatuated with the music. And the person who was creating it.

 

[Syrrus]

Once he finished the man simply stroke his fingers over the keys, without playing them and sighed - deeply.


"Why have you still not join the orchestra, Victor?" Ask Lucille, while she was finishing her tea, happy to have some time with her family without the old lady nearby.


"Because my skill is not meant for such endeavor." Victor frowned and got out of his seat, smiling at the young woman who had taken her place behind him, though said nothing of the matter, he merely placed a hand on her shoulder and looked at his sisters, who frowned at him in return.

 

[GreyZone]

"Are you implying that you are not good enough?" Margaret asked him, glancing down at the hand on her shoulder. "Because if so, you are painstakingly wrong, with all due respect." She smiled wearily, still slightly intoxicated with the music from earlier.


She followed him back to their seats, almost set back by the fact that she could play only a C scale if she watched someone else do it before her. "You are superb, Sir," she told him as she sat back down. "No one has managed to evoke a response like that in me from any instrument."

 

[Syrrus]

Victor stroke his black hair back over his head, trying to look as proper as a man like him could. "I know very well that I have the skill to make angel's cry but why in the world should I do so for the rich to sit and enjoy, while drinking their wine and pretending to be important? Do a bard let they who wishes to watch but tickets? No, he plays their requests, takes a coin for the matter, a drink and a meal before traveling on."


The nobleman leaned back in his seat and looked, carefully, at the young lady next to him. "I am certain I can evoke greater response from you, in time."


"Victor!"


"I apologize, that was out of line."

 

[GreyZone]

Margaret laughed incredulously at his response toward his piano playing, but was not surprised in the least. "Dear husband of mine, you truly are a great soul. I am thoroughly blessed to have a man of such great talent who is so meek and humble toward his attributes."


"Mr. Edwards," she began again, her light laugh continuing. "Are you implying that you have yet to bed your wife?" She asked this quietly, just loud enough for him to hear. She wouldn't have his sisters believing that she was completely uncouth, a rough and crude young woman simply because she wasn't afraid of discussing sexual matters.

 

[Syrrus]

"Of course not, I see no promise of children on your belly." He smirked her way. "I also believe we should be going."


"What, no, you cannot leave us her with her!"


"Surely she will return back to France before you bed the stable boy." Victor continued and pulled his jacket back on. "I shall take my wife back to my humble home, perhaps even have a conversation with her family. I have much to do, as a married man."

 

[GreyZone]

"Oh, so now you are implying that you are so powerful that you impregnate a woman every time you bed her?" Margaret retorted quietly, an amused smirk on her face. "I am ready whenever you are, dear husband. Do your other sisters know that I am an impostor?"


She did not know why, but it humored her to play his wife. It seemed so absurd that it was almost laughable. "I am sure my father would love to have a conversation with his son-in-law. And luckily for you, he appreciates a stiff drink."

 

[Syrrus]

"Good, it is decided then. We are off. A man can only take so many strikes to his handsome face." Victor got out of his seat rather promptly and popped his sunglasses back on his face. Lucille sighed and shook her head.


"I will be staying here, hopefully the old woman will leave, sooner or later." She said, sounding rather tired out. "Don't get yourself into trouble Victor, no heavy drinking."


"Very well, no heavy drinking but a lot of light drinking would not go a miss, and yes, my dear Margaret, they know full well that I am indeed not wed."

 

[GreyZone]

Margaret looped her arm back through his after retying her bonnet over her hair.


"Are you actually going to come fraternize with my family?" She asked once they had left the room. "Or am I required to face their wrath alone."


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

 

[Syrrus]

"I shall protect you from the their anger." The young man said, as he opened the door and exited the manor together with a lovely young woman on his arm. The carriage was still standing there, waiting - almost as if someone had told him to do so.


Gently, Victor helped the young woman up and into the carriage and closed the door behind him as he sat down opposite her.