The Ugly Truth about Feldane
Dulcinea walks into the coffee house her gown's train trailing behind her two inches, perfectly in style. Her horse, Roux, the one she doesn't ride but who follows her around, is outside peering in the window. Suspiciously.
Addison is sitting at the setee in the corner of Surya's coffee shop alone and working rather diligently on the Amber News Times Post daily crossword. Well, not so much working on it as using it as an excuse to sit here while he stares off in to space. He has a cup of tea. And biscuits.
Dulcinea leans at the waist to look at Roux. She shakes her head at him. His nostrils fill before he clearly exhales the way horses do, leaving two spots of mist on the window. Dulcy straightens, then walks a few steps into the room before she spots Addison. It brings a smile, a shadowy dimple, "Lord Feldane."
Addison starts a little bit and looks around suddenly for this Lord Feldane that might be creeping up on him. Then he realizes it is him, and that makes things even more confusing. He turns a bit, and then smiles and says, "Dulcinea Chantris! No Errol tilting at windmills for your hand?"
Dulcinea's hips turn as she moves around a table, walking toward him, "No, but he can be very dashing when he's tilting, can't he? Do you mind if I join you?"
"Oh no," Addison says. "Not at all." He gestures to the seat across from him.
Dulcinea takes the seat, lifting her grey fedora off to rest on the table. "I was going to look for you. I'm thinking of studying the law. Inspired by you. And your criticism of my desire to do something for the war effort.
"Why?" comes out of Addison's mouth before he can stop it. "I mean... why?"
Dulcinea leans her elbow on the table, "I don't know. I thought I'd spend my life singing to animals and having great adventures. And now I won't. Law seems a reasonable place to start."
"But there isn't any law in Amber!" Addison says. "The entire body of law for Amber can be written on the back of a very small, very soggy tea napkin. It says, 'You do what the King says.' There isn't anything to study. You just... wing it."
Dulcinea says, "But maybe we could introduce law!" Enthusiastically.
Addison gives Dulcinea the kind of look that conveys he believes that some small animal may, at any moment, climb out of Dulcy's hair and raspberry him. And almost as if such a thing is not only plausible but has already happened. "That is a bit of a difficult proposition," Addison says.
Dulcinea, good natured and still smiling, "Why? No one will notice. Then it will be too late. All we need is precedence, right?" Perhaps the lady has been reading already.
"Precedent. We have precedent. We have approximately three thousand years of precedent," Addison say. "All contradictory, all random, and all twisty passages all alike. I have some twenty volumes of precedent, and it spans every corner of law. Organizing it and codifying it into a single volume is a task of the heroic."
Dulcinea, helpful, "You should make it your great task, Addy."
Dulcinea turns to a waitress to ask for, "Coffee please. Hot and black," before taking her gloves off and smiling at Addison. She sets the gloves on the crown of her fedora.
"No point," Addison says. "Law is decided by the person of the Crown. Writing law is pointless if there is no agreed contract between the Crown and subjects."
Dulcinea says, "Oh," as if disappointed. "All right, perhaps I won't study law. The truth is, I'm not quite sure what to do with myself to prepare to be a Duchess. I It looks dull. As though it has to do with lists and poisoning.
"Chantris is a Grand Duchy," Addison says. "You own an entire shipping empire. You have your hand in dozens of businesses. Why not learn the in and outs of business? Learn how money works and how you can make it make you more money?"
Dulcinea says, "Because I'm going to be the Duchess of the Dead People," morose. She sits back as her coffee is delivered, then puts both slender hands around its base.
Addison looks a little boggled. "Wot? Duchess of Dead People?"
Dulcinea says, "You can't pretend Peabody didn't tell me about the vases." Chin up, eyes bright.
"Ah," Addison says. "Yes, well, the aunts are in the vases. They look at me. I never live up to their dead aunt ideals."
Dulcinea leans forward a little, as if confiding, "It's creepy."
"Well, yes, of course it is creepy," Addison says in a normal tone of voice. "They are rather dead. You best be glad they aren't dead and walking around and taking tea. Then we'd be all out of tea."
Dulcinea says, "Addison! I don't want Aunts in dead vases in my house." Almost beseeching, as if the very idea terrifies.
"Where else are they supposed to be? You cannot very well put them out with the trash," Addison says. "They'll be rather put off."
Dulcinea stirs her coffee cup, the spoon chiming on the side. "Most dead people are put in the ground, or in tombs away from living people."
"That's dreadful," Addison says. "Who will they talk to if you put them in the ground? I can see it being a bit better if you put them in a big tomb; at least they can chat all day but terribly difficult keeping up on current events. They would have to wait for someone to die to get the gossip."
Dulcinea pales. Really going white. "You mean your dead /talk/?"! She's stopped the stirring and everything to look at Addison. And when a lady of Amber boggles, it isn't a pretty thing.
Addison wonders if he has said too much, but then decides Dulcinea will learn about all this eventually. It would be awful if she learned by walking down the corridor and then having the vases wish her a merry hello one morning. "Well, yes, actually."
Dulcinea must believe Addison because her nominally fine green eyes go round, and then she faints, slumped in the chair, the tips over onto the ground with an unladylike Thunk.
RPG: Addison summons Peabody via Summoned Servant.
Peabody has arrived.
Addison knocks over his tea as he exclaims, "Dulcinea!" He reaches into his waistcoat, and pulls out the silver bell, and rings it. Then he jumps out of his seat to help up the fainted to-be Sister-in-Law off the floor and tries to fan her with a napkin. The other patrons of the coffee shop are beginning to stare.
Dulcinea has fainted on the floor. Her hat and gloves are on the table, as is a cup of untouched coffee. She's out cold. This does not bode well for her future at Feldane.
Peabody steps in from the main door. His left hand is encased in a plaster cast that leaves only his thumb and first two fingers free. "You rang, sir?"
Addison looks up at Peabody with a look of utter consternation. "The Lady is very ill, Peabody! We were having a nice conversation and suddenly, she fainted dead away!"
Peabody says, "My goodness, sir. This is not an ideal location for convalescence."
"No it is not, Peabody," Addison says. And while he can deal with exploding dirigbles and insane princes and jetpacks and snakes, he has no idea what to do with a passed out Lady. "Can you give me a hand? Or get a glass of water? Or brandy? Or something?"
Dulcinea may be coming to. She groans and might be saying, "Oh no please not dead people."
Addison looks around for dead people in the coffee shop. No, he really does. But not seeing any he says, "Dulcy, no one is dead in Surya's Coffee Shop."
Peabody hands Addison a small silver flask of brandy, and moves to help Dulcinea upright. "Are you well, your Ladyship?"
Addison opens the flask of brandy. He does the wise thing which is bolt back a nice slug before wiping off the top with his sleeve and offering it to the Lady Chantris. "Drink a little of this."
Dulcinea begins to sit up, reaching for the flask. There is still the lingering bit of horror in her white-faced expression. "I had a terrible dream. Peabody. Addison. That there were dead people in Feldane."
Addison gives Peabody a little pleading look that says, /Well, yes, there are dead people in Feldane./
Peabody says, "Feldane is an old House, your Ladyship, that holds its ancestry in the highest honor."
Dulcinea says, very decidedly, "Dead people belong in cemeteries, tough." Another swig. And showing she really is a lady, the brandy makes her face flush peach.
"They would get cold and lonely," Addison says pleading a tad. "They would complain and we would have to walk out there with blankets. Very inconvenient."
Peabody says, "Sir does make an excellent point."
Dulcinea says, "Dead people don't get cold. They're dead. They don't have bodies." She starting to look a bit wild-eyed again.
"They do get bored," Addison says. "And we hold our ancestors in very high regard. High enough to give them the current family gossip."
Dulcinea lifts her eyes to Addison, "Oh you are really not teasing. It's all true." As if this is the worst thing that could happen.
"Has Errol not spoken to you about this bit, Lady Dulcinea?" Addison asks.
Peabody says, "Sir, perhaps this is a conversation better suited to privacy?"
"Oh yes, yes, yes, of course," Addison says. "You are quite right, Peabody. My apologies."
Peabody says, "No apology necessary, sir."
Addison looks up at Peabody. "Peabody, can you help me get Lady Chantris back to her House? She cannot very well be ill here in the coffee shop."
Dulcinea rises, quite embarrassed, using both Addison and Peabody's arms to do so. She looks quite embarrassed. "No he hasn't said anything like that.
"Addison helps Dulcinea stand up.
Peabody helps Dulcinea up, and then offers a steadying elbow. "Very good, sir. Your Ladyship?"
Dulcinea says, "I would not mind your assistance home, Peabody."
Addison looks terribly thankful to Peabody. "Do be well, Lady Chantris."
Peabody says, "Certainly, your Ladyship."
Dulcinea picks up her hat her gloves, smiles wanly at Addison, "Thank you, Addy. You're a very good sort."
"I do try, from time to time." Addison picks up his hat off the table and bows politely. "And with that, I should perhaps repair home myself. I do hope your evening gets better and you feel better, Dulcinea."
Addison leaves the setee in the corner.
Addison leaves the coffeehouse.
Addison has left.
Dulcinea puts her hand on Peabody's elbow and says, as she walks slowly toward the door. "This business about the dead people -- Why?"
You leave the coffeehouse.
Peabody comes out of the coffeehouse.
Peabody has arrived.
Peabody says, "Why, your Ladyship?"
Dulcinea says, with the true blue tones of a lady of Chantris, "But it seems just plain wrong!"
Peabody says, "Mm. I think perhaps there is some confusion as to motive, your Ladyship."
Dulcinea walks along beside Peabody, the light weight of her hand upon his elbow. "What do you mean, Peabody?" A bit chilled, or creeped out.
Peabody says, "Your Ladyship seems to be under the impression that the household dead are... imprisoned, as it were, or under duress."
Dulcinea says, "No I don't think that at all. I mean, I wonder why they don't want to be with normal dead people."
Peabody says, "Because they love their family, your Ladyship."
Dulcinea says, "I loved my sister, but she doesn't talk to me!" Her voice raised a little.
Peabody says, "And isn't the loss all the keener for it, your Ladyship?"
Dulcinea says, "But Peabody. It's just wrong. It's scary. It must be awful walking around with ghosts and spirits. Maybe poltergiests!"
Peabody says, "I must disagree, your Ladyship. There is no malice or malevolence to be found. Instead, the honored dead provide their children with guidance and counsel informed by the experience of lifetimes."
Dulcinea says, "But Peabody!" as if she still finds it an anathema. "Augh. Don't the dead want to be left in peace?"
Peabody nods. "Absolutely, your Ladyship. And those that wish their rest, may have it."
Dulcinea says, "But don't they all want rest??" Almost desperate.
Peabody says, "Most do, your Ladyship."
Dulcinea says, "But according to Addy, they're all over the house," as if Dulcy does not want to set foot in that house.
Peabody nods. "That is true."
Dulcinea says, "Peabody, the idea of living in a house full of dead people makes me very unhappy."
Dulcinea continues to stroll up the road, but at least she's calming down.
Peabody considers, for a moment.
Peabody says, "Your Ladyship, I can think of two pieces of advice. One that may comfort you in Feldane Manor, and one, more involved, that may skirt the issue entirely."
Dulcinea glances at Peabody, but its clear she's listening. Almost desperate for advice.
Peabody says, "The most obvious fact to consider is that you cannot hear the dead within the Manor; there is no chance that they can disturb you."
Dulcinea nearly whispers, "But I'll know they're there."
Peabody considers this a moment longer, continuing up the street.
Peabody is escorting Dulcinea up the main concourse, supporting her on his left elbow. The lady looks slightly wan.
Peabody says, "If this knowledge is too much, your Ladyship, there is another option, although it creates a number of issues of its own."
Dulcinea says, "Oh, but please let me know. I wonder if I may be able to do this at all. I'm not ready for dead people everywhere!"
Peabody says, "There is a case to be made, your Ladyship, for Lord Errol and yourself taking residence somewhere besides the town manor after the wedding."
Dulcinea says, "Peabody, that is a wonderful idea." She almost seems, and in fact does seem, quite relieved. Her hand relaxes upon his arm and her chin lifts.
Peabody says, "I can, in fact, suggest three arguments in support of such a suggestion."
Dulcinea's regard of Peabody is warm and grateful, and if she didn't like him already (which she does), she definitely would now. She tries, "Because we're young and want to be together?"
Peabody says, "That would be one of them, your Ladyship. There is, I understand, a significant difference between being betrothed and living as man and wife, and none could fault a young couple for desiring privacy."
Dulcinea continues north, but her step is less rigid. "And what, then, are the other reasons?" Despite the darkness, color creeps back into her face.
Peabody says, "Lord Errol is heir to the House - that also includes being the head of his household. Despite his Lordship's qualities, he has no experience in this area. Placing he and your Ladyship in charge of one of our country properties, for example, will provide that experience. Her Grace likes to keep her family close to her; very few remain at other locations."
Dulcinea says, "Oh Peabody!" as if he's her hero. "That's a wonderful idea. I think I could live with that." She glances aside at him, admiring.
Peabody says, "The third argument is, of course, that you are not thrust into immediate proximity with the forces of history. However, your Ladyship..."
Dulcinea says, "Yes?" More amenable now that she sees a way out of the dead people.
Peabody says, "Eventually, Lord Errol and your Ladyship will be Duke and Duchess Feldane. This will require the assumption of all traditional duties of the House. While I sympathize with your Ladyship's desire for a more gentle transition into those traditions, they cannot be avoided forever."
Dulcinea says, "I know. But consider this. Lord Errol and I never thought we'd be the Duke and Duchess. Never thought we'd be married, let alone to each other. We both like adventure, and gardening, and riding fast horses at breakneck speeds. It only seems fair to give us some time to adjust."
Peabody says, "Absolutely, your Ladyship."
Dulcinea says, "IN fact, it very well may be that we don't actually get married for decades. So this won't be important."
Peabody says, "Decades, your Ladyship?"
Dulcinea says, "Possibly?" Not really believe it herself, but clearly still anxious and uncertain about the whole idea.
Peabody says, "We live in uncertain times, your Ladyship. I am not certain that such a delay is wise."
Dulcinea replies, "No one has fixed on a date yet. I'll let our parents decide." Her tone is one of a diver preparing to go into the north Atlantic.
Peabody says, "I'm sure that they will choose an appropriate time, your Ladyship."
Dulcinea says, as they approach Chantris, "Would you like to come up and have tea, Peabody?"
Peabody says, "Unfortunately, I am required at the manor, your Ladyship. I am honored by the offer, though."
Dulcinea says, "Very well. Thank you for everything, Peabody."
Peabody says, "Certainly, your Ladyship."
Dulcinea lets her hand drop from his elbow, then takes the many stairs up to the Chantris entry hall.
Addison is sitting at the setee in the corner of Surya's coffee shop alone and working rather diligently on the Amber News Times Post daily crossword. Well, not so much working on it as using it as an excuse to sit here while he stares off in to space. He has a cup of tea. And biscuits.
Dulcinea leans at the waist to look at Roux. She shakes her head at him. His nostrils fill before he clearly exhales the way horses do, leaving two spots of mist on the window. Dulcy straightens, then walks a few steps into the room before she spots Addison. It brings a smile, a shadowy dimple, "Lord Feldane."
Addison starts a little bit and looks around suddenly for this Lord Feldane that might be creeping up on him. Then he realizes it is him, and that makes things even more confusing. He turns a bit, and then smiles and says, "Dulcinea Chantris! No Errol tilting at windmills for your hand?"
Dulcinea's hips turn as she moves around a table, walking toward him, "No, but he can be very dashing when he's tilting, can't he? Do you mind if I join you?"
"Oh no," Addison says. "Not at all." He gestures to the seat across from him.
Dulcinea takes the seat, lifting her grey fedora off to rest on the table. "I was going to look for you. I'm thinking of studying the law. Inspired by you. And your criticism of my desire to do something for the war effort.
"Why?" comes out of Addison's mouth before he can stop it. "I mean... why?"
Dulcinea leans her elbow on the table, "I don't know. I thought I'd spend my life singing to animals and having great adventures. And now I won't. Law seems a reasonable place to start."
"But there isn't any law in Amber!" Addison says. "The entire body of law for Amber can be written on the back of a very small, very soggy tea napkin. It says, 'You do what the King says.' There isn't anything to study. You just... wing it."
Dulcinea says, "But maybe we could introduce law!" Enthusiastically.
Addison gives Dulcinea the kind of look that conveys he believes that some small animal may, at any moment, climb out of Dulcy's hair and raspberry him. And almost as if such a thing is not only plausible but has already happened. "That is a bit of a difficult proposition," Addison says.
Dulcinea, good natured and still smiling, "Why? No one will notice. Then it will be too late. All we need is precedence, right?" Perhaps the lady has been reading already.
"Precedent. We have precedent. We have approximately three thousand years of precedent," Addison say. "All contradictory, all random, and all twisty passages all alike. I have some twenty volumes of precedent, and it spans every corner of law. Organizing it and codifying it into a single volume is a task of the heroic."
Dulcinea, helpful, "You should make it your great task, Addy."
Dulcinea turns to a waitress to ask for, "Coffee please. Hot and black," before taking her gloves off and smiling at Addison. She sets the gloves on the crown of her fedora.
"No point," Addison says. "Law is decided by the person of the Crown. Writing law is pointless if there is no agreed contract between the Crown and subjects."
Dulcinea says, "Oh," as if disappointed. "All right, perhaps I won't study law. The truth is, I'm not quite sure what to do with myself to prepare to be a Duchess. I It looks dull. As though it has to do with lists and poisoning.
"Chantris is a Grand Duchy," Addison says. "You own an entire shipping empire. You have your hand in dozens of businesses. Why not learn the in and outs of business? Learn how money works and how you can make it make you more money?"
Dulcinea says, "Because I'm going to be the Duchess of the Dead People," morose. She sits back as her coffee is delivered, then puts both slender hands around its base.
Addison looks a little boggled. "Wot? Duchess of Dead People?"
Dulcinea says, "You can't pretend Peabody didn't tell me about the vases." Chin up, eyes bright.
"Ah," Addison says. "Yes, well, the aunts are in the vases. They look at me. I never live up to their dead aunt ideals."
Dulcinea leans forward a little, as if confiding, "It's creepy."
"Well, yes, of course it is creepy," Addison says in a normal tone of voice. "They are rather dead. You best be glad they aren't dead and walking around and taking tea. Then we'd be all out of tea."
Dulcinea says, "Addison! I don't want Aunts in dead vases in my house." Almost beseeching, as if the very idea terrifies.
"Where else are they supposed to be? You cannot very well put them out with the trash," Addison says. "They'll be rather put off."
Dulcinea stirs her coffee cup, the spoon chiming on the side. "Most dead people are put in the ground, or in tombs away from living people."
"That's dreadful," Addison says. "Who will they talk to if you put them in the ground? I can see it being a bit better if you put them in a big tomb; at least they can chat all day but terribly difficult keeping up on current events. They would have to wait for someone to die to get the gossip."
Dulcinea pales. Really going white. "You mean your dead /talk/?"! She's stopped the stirring and everything to look at Addison. And when a lady of Amber boggles, it isn't a pretty thing.
Addison wonders if he has said too much, but then decides Dulcinea will learn about all this eventually. It would be awful if she learned by walking down the corridor and then having the vases wish her a merry hello one morning. "Well, yes, actually."
Dulcinea must believe Addison because her nominally fine green eyes go round, and then she faints, slumped in the chair, the tips over onto the ground with an unladylike Thunk.
RPG: Addison summons Peabody via Summoned Servant.
Peabody has arrived.
Addison knocks over his tea as he exclaims, "Dulcinea!" He reaches into his waistcoat, and pulls out the silver bell, and rings it. Then he jumps out of his seat to help up the fainted to-be Sister-in-Law off the floor and tries to fan her with a napkin. The other patrons of the coffee shop are beginning to stare.
Dulcinea has fainted on the floor. Her hat and gloves are on the table, as is a cup of untouched coffee. She's out cold. This does not bode well for her future at Feldane.
Peabody steps in from the main door. His left hand is encased in a plaster cast that leaves only his thumb and first two fingers free. "You rang, sir?"
Addison looks up at Peabody with a look of utter consternation. "The Lady is very ill, Peabody! We were having a nice conversation and suddenly, she fainted dead away!"
Peabody says, "My goodness, sir. This is not an ideal location for convalescence."
"No it is not, Peabody," Addison says. And while he can deal with exploding dirigbles and insane princes and jetpacks and snakes, he has no idea what to do with a passed out Lady. "Can you give me a hand? Or get a glass of water? Or brandy? Or something?"
Dulcinea may be coming to. She groans and might be saying, "Oh no please not dead people."
Addison looks around for dead people in the coffee shop. No, he really does. But not seeing any he says, "Dulcy, no one is dead in Surya's Coffee Shop."
Peabody hands Addison a small silver flask of brandy, and moves to help Dulcinea upright. "Are you well, your Ladyship?"
Addison opens the flask of brandy. He does the wise thing which is bolt back a nice slug before wiping off the top with his sleeve and offering it to the Lady Chantris. "Drink a little of this."
Dulcinea begins to sit up, reaching for the flask. There is still the lingering bit of horror in her white-faced expression. "I had a terrible dream. Peabody. Addison. That there were dead people in Feldane."
Addison gives Peabody a little pleading look that says, /Well, yes, there are dead people in Feldane./
Peabody says, "Feldane is an old House, your Ladyship, that holds its ancestry in the highest honor."
Dulcinea says, very decidedly, "Dead people belong in cemeteries, tough." Another swig. And showing she really is a lady, the brandy makes her face flush peach.
"They would get cold and lonely," Addison says pleading a tad. "They would complain and we would have to walk out there with blankets. Very inconvenient."
Peabody says, "Sir does make an excellent point."
Dulcinea says, "Dead people don't get cold. They're dead. They don't have bodies." She starting to look a bit wild-eyed again.
"They do get bored," Addison says. "And we hold our ancestors in very high regard. High enough to give them the current family gossip."
Dulcinea lifts her eyes to Addison, "Oh you are really not teasing. It's all true." As if this is the worst thing that could happen.
"Has Errol not spoken to you about this bit, Lady Dulcinea?" Addison asks.
Peabody says, "Sir, perhaps this is a conversation better suited to privacy?"
"Oh yes, yes, yes, of course," Addison says. "You are quite right, Peabody. My apologies."
Peabody says, "No apology necessary, sir."
Addison looks up at Peabody. "Peabody, can you help me get Lady Chantris back to her House? She cannot very well be ill here in the coffee shop."
Dulcinea rises, quite embarrassed, using both Addison and Peabody's arms to do so. She looks quite embarrassed. "No he hasn't said anything like that.
"Addison helps Dulcinea stand up.
Peabody helps Dulcinea up, and then offers a steadying elbow. "Very good, sir. Your Ladyship?"
Dulcinea says, "I would not mind your assistance home, Peabody."
Addison looks terribly thankful to Peabody. "Do be well, Lady Chantris."
Peabody says, "Certainly, your Ladyship."
Dulcinea picks up her hat her gloves, smiles wanly at Addison, "Thank you, Addy. You're a very good sort."
"I do try, from time to time." Addison picks up his hat off the table and bows politely. "And with that, I should perhaps repair home myself. I do hope your evening gets better and you feel better, Dulcinea."
Addison leaves the setee in the corner.
Addison leaves the coffeehouse.
Addison has left.
Dulcinea puts her hand on Peabody's elbow and says, as she walks slowly toward the door. "This business about the dead people -- Why?"
You leave the coffeehouse.
Peabody comes out of the coffeehouse.
Peabody has arrived.
Peabody says, "Why, your Ladyship?"
Dulcinea says, with the true blue tones of a lady of Chantris, "But it seems just plain wrong!"
Peabody says, "Mm. I think perhaps there is some confusion as to motive, your Ladyship."
Dulcinea walks along beside Peabody, the light weight of her hand upon his elbow. "What do you mean, Peabody?" A bit chilled, or creeped out.
Peabody says, "Your Ladyship seems to be under the impression that the household dead are... imprisoned, as it were, or under duress."
Dulcinea says, "No I don't think that at all. I mean, I wonder why they don't want to be with normal dead people."
Peabody says, "Because they love their family, your Ladyship."
Dulcinea says, "I loved my sister, but she doesn't talk to me!" Her voice raised a little.
Peabody says, "And isn't the loss all the keener for it, your Ladyship?"
Dulcinea says, "But Peabody. It's just wrong. It's scary. It must be awful walking around with ghosts and spirits. Maybe poltergiests!"
Peabody says, "I must disagree, your Ladyship. There is no malice or malevolence to be found. Instead, the honored dead provide their children with guidance and counsel informed by the experience of lifetimes."
Dulcinea says, "But Peabody!" as if she still finds it an anathema. "Augh. Don't the dead want to be left in peace?"
Peabody nods. "Absolutely, your Ladyship. And those that wish their rest, may have it."
Dulcinea says, "But don't they all want rest??" Almost desperate.
Peabody says, "Most do, your Ladyship."
Dulcinea says, "But according to Addy, they're all over the house," as if Dulcy does not want to set foot in that house.
Peabody nods. "That is true."
Dulcinea says, "Peabody, the idea of living in a house full of dead people makes me very unhappy."
Dulcinea continues to stroll up the road, but at least she's calming down.
Peabody considers, for a moment.
Peabody says, "Your Ladyship, I can think of two pieces of advice. One that may comfort you in Feldane Manor, and one, more involved, that may skirt the issue entirely."
Dulcinea glances at Peabody, but its clear she's listening. Almost desperate for advice.
Peabody says, "The most obvious fact to consider is that you cannot hear the dead within the Manor; there is no chance that they can disturb you."
Dulcinea nearly whispers, "But I'll know they're there."
Peabody considers this a moment longer, continuing up the street.
Peabody is escorting Dulcinea up the main concourse, supporting her on his left elbow. The lady looks slightly wan.
Peabody says, "If this knowledge is too much, your Ladyship, there is another option, although it creates a number of issues of its own."
Dulcinea says, "Oh, but please let me know. I wonder if I may be able to do this at all. I'm not ready for dead people everywhere!"
Peabody says, "There is a case to be made, your Ladyship, for Lord Errol and yourself taking residence somewhere besides the town manor after the wedding."
Dulcinea says, "Peabody, that is a wonderful idea." She almost seems, and in fact does seem, quite relieved. Her hand relaxes upon his arm and her chin lifts.
Peabody says, "I can, in fact, suggest three arguments in support of such a suggestion."
Dulcinea's regard of Peabody is warm and grateful, and if she didn't like him already (which she does), she definitely would now. She tries, "Because we're young and want to be together?"
Peabody says, "That would be one of them, your Ladyship. There is, I understand, a significant difference between being betrothed and living as man and wife, and none could fault a young couple for desiring privacy."
Dulcinea continues north, but her step is less rigid. "And what, then, are the other reasons?" Despite the darkness, color creeps back into her face.
Peabody says, "Lord Errol is heir to the House - that also includes being the head of his household. Despite his Lordship's qualities, he has no experience in this area. Placing he and your Ladyship in charge of one of our country properties, for example, will provide that experience. Her Grace likes to keep her family close to her; very few remain at other locations."
Dulcinea says, "Oh Peabody!" as if he's her hero. "That's a wonderful idea. I think I could live with that." She glances aside at him, admiring.
Peabody says, "The third argument is, of course, that you are not thrust into immediate proximity with the forces of history. However, your Ladyship..."
Dulcinea says, "Yes?" More amenable now that she sees a way out of the dead people.
Peabody says, "Eventually, Lord Errol and your Ladyship will be Duke and Duchess Feldane. This will require the assumption of all traditional duties of the House. While I sympathize with your Ladyship's desire for a more gentle transition into those traditions, they cannot be avoided forever."
Dulcinea says, "I know. But consider this. Lord Errol and I never thought we'd be the Duke and Duchess. Never thought we'd be married, let alone to each other. We both like adventure, and gardening, and riding fast horses at breakneck speeds. It only seems fair to give us some time to adjust."
Peabody says, "Absolutely, your Ladyship."
Dulcinea says, "IN fact, it very well may be that we don't actually get married for decades. So this won't be important."
Peabody says, "Decades, your Ladyship?"
Dulcinea says, "Possibly?" Not really believe it herself, but clearly still anxious and uncertain about the whole idea.
Peabody says, "We live in uncertain times, your Ladyship. I am not certain that such a delay is wise."
Dulcinea replies, "No one has fixed on a date yet. I'll let our parents decide." Her tone is one of a diver preparing to go into the north Atlantic.
Peabody says, "I'm sure that they will choose an appropriate time, your Ladyship."
Dulcinea says, as they approach Chantris, "Would you like to come up and have tea, Peabody?"
Peabody says, "Unfortunately, I am required at the manor, your Ladyship. I am honored by the offer, though."
Dulcinea says, "Very well. Thank you for everything, Peabody."
Peabody says, "Certainly, your Ladyship."
Dulcinea lets her hand drop from his elbow, then takes the many stairs up to the Chantris entry hall.