Juliette Coulombe (clearyourmind) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-03-25 20:51:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !narrative, juliette coulombe |
Who: Juliette
What: Happy birthday, Theo!
Where: The Finch estate
When: Tonight
Rating: Tame
Status:Complete!
The cake she had made after training had turned out well -- she had picked a simple recipe to ensure it -- but as she approached the gates of the Finch estate with the box, Juliette felt nervous. What if her mentor didn’t like cake? Or berries? What if he had other plans? What if… Perhaps, she considered, she would give the cake to the butler and escape. That way, if he hated it, she would never know… But then, she was at the door, and there was nothing for it but to ring the bell and hope the butler would accept an unmarked box from an unfamiliar girl (she had not come here socially in a very long time). She tried on her most polite smile as the door opened, holding the box forward and asking if it could please be delivered to Lord Finch -- the younger -- and she would just be on her way -- Sadly, her hopes were dashed when the man insistently told her to follow him inside, and although she attempted to excuse herself, it seemed it was not to be. Resigned, she followed him down the hall to a sitting room where she was left perched on a settee, box in lap, wishing she could be better at asserting herself. At least there was no noise that she could hear -- hopefully she was not interrupting a party or some manner of family celebration… She was seriously considering trying one of the windows when the door opened. The butler, again -- she didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. “I am afraid that my lord is out for the afternoon, but I anticipate he will return by --” “Oh,” Juliette interrupted, less concerned now with being rude than she was with taking this unexpected escape (the longer she had sat there in the silence, the more awkward she had felt about everything under the sun), “no, really, I would hate to impose. And it is his birthday, so I am certain he is quite busy with -- I am certain he is quite busy,” she repeated, more firmly this time. Standing from the settee, she held the box forward, and perhaps some of her stubbornness shone through this time, as he finally seemed inclined to take it. “I will excuse myself,” she added. Perhaps some small shred of ladylike dignity had also come across (or perhaps he was not entirely heartless, nor blind to her desperation), but he said, “I will show you out, miss,” and she was far too relieved to correct him on the title. She left the estate sans box, and thus considered her mission complete. It was better this way, surely. How silly had she been to think he might be available to spend part of his birthday with her? He had family and friends and perhaps even lady friends (or gentleman friends, for that matter) to occupy his time; what was one squire in all of that? But… She did hope, fervently, that he didn’t hate the cake. |