Courting Ingrid Ivory Chapter 2 - The Investment
Courting Ingrid Ivory
Author: Lady_Elizabeth2
Chapter Two: The Investment
Characters: Lord Beckett, Mr. Mercer, Ingrid Ivory and some OC maids. Mentions: Charlotte and Charles Ivory.
Warnings: None?
Rating: PG, possibly higher/lower?
Word Count: 5151
Beta:
madame_doodle
Chapter Summary: Beckett takes Ingrid to her new home. Talk of the past and wondering about the future. My summary is really bad...
Author Notes: Due to the location of my computer being in an oven (games room with tin roof in summer = oven) when the temperature rises in the summer here I tend not to enter the oven or use the computer, or at least as often. So it might be a while until my next update. Unless I can somehow find another working power point and move my computer into the main part of the house - bless air conditioning! Anyway, I will update on this or my other work when I can.
Thank you(s): My beta Madame_Doodle, you were as awesome as always. The next one and I can’t believe I’m saying this but... thanks Mum. Really, I couldn’t have done it without her, REALLY, hehe I kind of needed Microsoft Office and she brought it for me xD but only because she can claim it because it's for school.
Lord Beckett and the Ivory’s hadn’t waited for the snowfall to lighten before Beckett and Ingrid left; there seemed no point waiting, as it was only going to get heavier. As Ingrid put her cloak on in the foyer Charlotte sobbed again whilst Charles tried to stand tall - tried and failed however, as you could clearly see the pain in his eyes. With one final turn to look back at her sister and father Ingrid smiled, she knew it would give her family some reassurance that she could and would take care of herself. And though she knew that it wasn’t necessarily true, she attempted to show it anyway.
As Mercer helped Ingrid into the carriage to sit beside Lord Beckett, Frank stowed Ingrid's trunk onto the roof. As the driver called for the horses to move on, Mercer leapt in after her and closed the door just as the carriage began to roll forwards on route to Lord Beckett's estate.
Now that Mercer was in he picked up the vase that had been placed next to him. He held the vase tightly because he had already been told of what would happen if he so much as marked it.
After scolding Mercer, Beckett apologised to Ingrid for the tone he’d used. He made a quick introduction of Ingrid to Mercer and Mercer to Ingrid, and then asked Mercer for his opinion on his bride to be.
“An excellent choice sir. I saw the other girl and I have to say that Ingrid looks much more suitable,” Mercer answered. He always made sure to give the answer that his lordship most wanted to hear.
“Yes, the other one - Charlotte, she was just as agreeable as Ingrid, only I found her rather mindless,” Beckett said, and after a short pause and a slight turn to Ingrid who sat next to him he asked, “Perhaps you could tell me why your sister is lacking intellect?”
“She’s been like that for years. You see, she was the one who, um.... found mother... and she was so young, it really traumatised her. She’s never been quite the same,” she replied. ‘Though there are other reasons too...’
“Well, it’s no wonder then,” Beckett said. And though it crossed his mind to ask about her mother’s death he knew it would be a fragile topic. Not to mention, the last thing he needed right now was to have Ingrid sobbing and if she sobbed anything like her sister did, then yes, it was very much worth preventing.
After several moments of nothing but the usual travel noises coming from the horses’ efforts and the carriage wheels annoyingly scraping themselves along the track Beckett turned to Ingrid again. “Now, before I forget; why was it that your father was so keen to marry Charlotte off instead of you?”
“Well, father and I, we think just the same as you, she is very much lacking in intellect...,” Ingrid answered a little too fast. She couldn’t help but answer with a lie. If she told the truth she would risk feeling guilty.
“Come now, that wouldn’t be the real or only reason. Tell me the truth.” Beckett said. Attempting to coax the truth out of her - he could see that she was lying.
“I- I don’t really want to...” Ingrid said.
“Oh really? And why would that be?” Beckett asked.
“Because... my sister would never forgive me if she found out that I told someone,” Ingrid answered.
“In that case she won’t find out.” He replied.
“Very well... Before we had Frank we had this horrible old man... Charlotte told me that he’d done things to her... Things that would question her virginity,” Ingrid explained, though to Beckett it seemed that she didn’t want to reveal all of the details. He was going to coax more information from her but she continued before he could. “Father hasn’t really liked Charlotte since. From what I gather it happened more than once - so I suppose she could’ve said something sooner, but she didn’t so really it’s her own fault if she’s not the virgin that she claims to be. So I suppose father wanted to offer you her hand so that he could get rid of her. Then of course, he did favour me... as you probably noticed.”
“So choosing you over your sister has been a greater investment than I originally thought,” Beckett said. He was now more pleased with his choice than he had been before.
“I fail to see why. There isn’t anything wrong with Charlotte in any other way.” she said.
“Yes, but that doesn’t matter now. I presume that you’re still a virgin? And, your father still has to deal with finding a husband for Charlotte,” Beckett said proudly, noting that he’d sunk Charles’ reputation further into the mud.
“Oh yes, I’m definitely still a virgin... I could see that father was rather annoyed with Charlotte when you took me...” she trailed off and wondered if her father would punish Charlotte.
“Excellent. Now see Mercer, the best investment can be the one which displeases the seller,” Beckett said.
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
When the carriage finally slowed and came to a complete stop, the footmen assisted Ingrid in getting out of the carriage. She looked up as she stepped down. Her new home was beautiful. It was much, much bigger than her old home, and far more elegant. It had a garden with various expensive looking statues, though they were all covered in snow. Everything was covered in snow. It was something that she’d never seen before and to think that she was going to live there - she felt like the luckiest woman alive. But was she?
“I take it that you are enjoying the view of my estate?” Beckett asked, taking her arm a little too roughly, forcing her to walk forwards with him towards the house.
“Yes, very much. I’ve never seen a more beautiful house,” she said excitedly, and Beckett of course had nothing against her claim. And she completely ignored the fact that she was practically being dragged about like a mother in a bustle-filled crowd at the markets, Beckett wondered if she cared.
“Wait until you see inside. I’ll have Mercer introduce you to your chambermaids and what have you, then I’ll leave you to wander the house,”
‘Chambermaids and what have you? Oh this is wonderful!’ she thought. “You want me to wander about on my own? My, but I’ll get lost!” she said with enthusiasm, she intended it to be slightly humorous. And when he’d given her a short chuckle at her claim she smiled as she congratulated herself for uncovering that Beckett wasn’t a completely serious person.
Once they were inside the staff were instructed by Mr. Mercer to gather in the entrance hall. The hall was well lit considering it was evening and dark outside because of the snow clouds, very unlike the one at the Ivory household and Ingrid was glad that she could see everyone clearly. She was sure that Beckett was showing off and she knew that he hadn’t thought much of her home. She noticed that her trunk was being taken up the stairs and the vase was still with Mercer. She wondered where the vase would end up - she hoped that he wouldn’t sell it and that it would become a simple ornament, another thing he could proudly show off.
Her thoughts were broken when the butler offered to take her coat. He took it outside, along with Beckett’s and shook the snow off before returning to hang them on the stand.
Beckett cleared his throat with the hand that wasn’t linked to Ingrid’s arm. “This is Ingrid and she is my fiancée. You are to give her the same respect that you give me or else you will endure the usual consequences of your actions.” Beckett watched the reactions of his staff. Most of them looked baffled; it was expected because they hadn’t expected him to bring home a fiancée out of the blue. They’d never seen her until now, nor had they heard of an ‘Ingrid’.
Beckett dismissed some of the staff, mostly those from kitchens. He then showered her two lady’s maids - Cassandra and Alice. They both curtsied. Alice was a young woman with dark brown hair, brown eyes and sharp features. Cassandra looked to be in her forties with dark blonde hair and blue eyes; she was also a reasonably big boned woman.
“Your maids will take you upstairs and show you to your room, whilst there I’d also like you to change into something that will coordinate with your new surroundings,” Beckett said.
“This is my best dress,” Ingrid answered. She wore it because it was her best; her father had told her to look well bred for when Beckett came to inspect her and her sister. It was pretty, but painfully tight - she wasn’t used to wearing something so constricting.
“Oh....” How could he forget? He bet that even her best dress was in-fact a hand-me-down. “Then these two are to take your measurements, they can then organise the making of newer ones - a whole collection of much finer fabrics will be ordered if this is the best of your attire. I trust that you’ll keep your appearance the best you can until they’re made?”
“Thank you... I understand why I must be well presented, so I shall do my best,” she said. ‘He’s not as bad as I thought he’d be. Though he is slightly arrogant,’
“It’s nothing really,” he said modestly. “I’ll be in my study, I have some things that need tending to and I ask not to be disturbed. Dinner is at half past eight, I’ll see you then,” he said, before he and Mercer took their leave and headed into the left wing. As soon as he was out of sight the rest staff scrambled back to their duties.
Ingrid was watching all the fuss when she was tapped lightly on her shoulder. When she turned around she saw her maids. Alice spoke “We’ll show you to your chamber now and take your measurements as the master instructed. Right this way,” Ingrid noticed that Alice had a very soft voice and it suited her well.
“Oh yes, of course,” Ingrid said as she followed her maids upstairs.
On her way to her chamber she couldn’t help but dart her eyes about to see every little detail of her new home. She noticed that everything was well placed, not cluttered like it had been in her family home. The white paint on the upstairs hallway walls was well contrasted with the furniture that ran along them - a few wooden bureaux scattered with ornaments - they really did made it look nice.
When her maids swung her chamber door open and showed Ingrid inside, she noted how well the room was made up. There was a large four post bed with her trunk placed at the foot of it, vanity, wardrobe, writing desk, a few windows and all the small objects that were here and there; ornaments, books and paintings. She wanted to squeal with excitement, but propriety demanded otherwise. Before Ingrid could even think about touching anything in her room Alice pulled a measuring tape out from God knows where and she and Cassandra began to push Ingrid around as they took down her measurements.
While Ingrid’s maids were taking her measurements she noticed that Cassandra gave a glance to Alice. Alice opened her mouth to speak but no words came. Ingrid noticed this, “If you have something to say, say it,” Ingrid said, and annoyed by her maid’s actions her tone was raised.
“When we first saw you we thought you might have come from a brothel. But then when he announced you... we wondered otherwise. Then of course he told us that you’re to marry him,” Cassandra said as she wrapped the tape across Ingrid’s chest.
‘He’s quite the libertine, then?’ She thought. “I am no whore! And I most certainly don’t look like one! I’m to be his wife, just as he mentioned earlier!” Ingrid corrected. It was the first time she’d said her condemned verdict out loud, and it felt a little odd.
The two maids seemed surprised even though they had already been told that it was the case. Cassandra apologised. “Sorry miss, we didn’t mean to judge you so improperly. We just thought that if the master were to ever take a wife that she’d be, well, a spoilt, arrogant, upper class brat… and you don’t seem to be like that at all.”
Ingrid wondered if what Cassandra had just told her was supposed to be some form of compliment. “I see what you mean. But I must ask; why would you imagine her to be an ‘arrogant, spoilt upper class brat?’” Ingrid asked.
“Because that breed would go well with ‘im,” Cassandra answered, before Alice could even think of a more tactful response.
“How do you mean? He appears to be a decent, nice man,” Ingrid said in disbelief of Cassandra’s claim.
This time it was Alice who jumped in first. “Oh no, he’s not... not all of the time. Just don’t get in his bad books, is all.”
“Oh most people are like that - everyone has a darker side… he probably just can’t help himself, he’s only human,” Ingrid said, trying to stick to what she had said.
“Alright, you believe what you want, miss. Just don’t come crying to us when something ‘appens between the two of you that you don’t like,” Cassandra said waggling her finger at Ingrid. And with that, she left the room.
‘For a maid, she really doesn’t know her place at all too well,’ Ingrid thought.
When Cassandra was gone Alice spoke. “Don’t you mind her miss. She and the master don’t get on too well; she tends to over-exaggerate about him all the time. It’s uh, probably that time of the month too by the sounds of things,” Alice winked. “She’s usually a lot better than this.”
“Oh... I see,” Ingrid said, smiling nervously. ‘So what you really mean is that she’s always like that…’
“Would you like me to show you around then? I suppose it’d be a big help - seeing as you’ll be living here from now on,” Alice said.
“Well if you don’t have anything better to do,” ‘I prefer Alice over Cassandra and I’ve only known them for a very short time…’
Alice gave Ingrid a quick tour, but was interrupted by other duties just after she’d finished showing her the sitting room downstairs. “I’m sure you’ll be alright to wonder around on your own now, Miss. Just don’t disturb the master,” Alice said before she disappeared.
Once Ingrid was alone her mind began to wander and so did her feet. She was admiring a painting of some London scenery that was hung on the wall in the downstairs hallway when she heard voices coming from behind one of the doors near her. As she crept closer she could decipher that the voices were those of Beckett and Mercer. Drawing even closer she could hear the words. She completely ignored what Alice had told her.
‘A week, I’m sure that a ..... wouldn’t be that busy,’ She heard Beckett say. He sounded rather fired up about something, someone. She wanted to know more but she couldn’t quite make out all the words.
Then she heard Mercer speak. ‘I offered additional money sir, and even then he said he still couldn’t be around by ............ to .......’ After making sure that no one was around, Ingrid pulled her hair behind her ear and placed the same ear on the door to see if she could understand more of the conversation. She knew she shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but she couldn’t help wondering what they were talking about and why Beckett was so eager to have this mystery man visit. She hoped she’d find out soon enough... and without getting caught.
‘Find someone else to do it then. I don’t care if he has to come from ... other side of London to ........ my marriage. I need this done now, the sooner it’s done the quicker I can..... Ingrid,’ She began to listen more intently now that she’d had her name mentioned, but although she had her ear on the door the wood was too thick to make out all the words.
‘I’ll go in the morning sir,’ she heard Mercer suggest.
‘Yes. As soon as dawn breaks you’d better be up and gone,’ She heard Beckett say, but this time it sounded closer and the words were much clearer. They had to be coming closer to the door. She quickly, but quietly made her way down the hall and pretended to admire the painting she’d admired before again.
When she heard the study door open she thought it best to turn her head. Mercer hurried off past her whilst Beckett slowly approached her.
“What are you doing?” he asked haughtily.
“Well, I told you that I liked art didn’t I?” she said before turning back to the painting.
“Yes, I believe you did,” he drawled. “But surely you don’t think that this is anything spectacular, do you?” he asked.
“Oh... I don’t know. All of the paintings that I’ve seen are nice,” she lied. She could barely remember the other paintings, they were just blurs when she walked passed them.
“Rightly so.... and I take it that everything is to your liking?” he urged.
“Oh yes, very,” she replied with a smile.
“Good,” he said noting her smile - she had a nice smile.
“I have to ask though. My ladies maids-,” she was going to ask something but was cut off.
“If you don’t like them I can easily replace them. Alice is a bit mindless and Cassandra should learn her place. Though she should already know it, really,” he said.
“Oh no, there’s nothing the matter with them. It’s just that they.... they thought that I was a - something that I’m not,” she said and made sure she’d chosen the right words.
“Oh really, and what was that?” he knew exactly what she was talking about. ‘Cassandra you never learn.’
“They thought I was a-,” she was cut off again.
“I know exactly what they thought of you. But don’t worry. It won’t happen again,” he said.
“Why? It didn’t upset me, not really. It’s just that....” she wasn’t cut off this time, she just couldn’t finish.
“That what? You think that I’m the sort of man who has a different woman in bed with me every night?” he said, he did sound rather cross and Ingrid began to worry that what Alice had warned her of was true.
“No.... not... to that extent,” she said but as she soon he got closer to her she began to regret it.
“So now you think I’m the type that behaves like that on the odd occasion?” he asked.
“Yes. I always had,” she lied, of course. It was too much of a blessing to find a man who didn’t have a woman in bed with him at least once every fortnight. And she knew it too; her father had had a few prostitutes in his bed chamber from time to time. The thought always made her feel ill.
‘Good girl,’ “It’s almost eight. You and I should wait for supper. The sitting room or the dining room?” he said.
“Don’t ask me something like that, please - you decide,” she replied.
“Dining room it is,” he said.
‘I should have said sitting room. I hope the chairs are nice... this dress is driving me insane,’ she thought, musing over her decision not to say ‘Sitting Room.’
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+Beckett and Ingrid sat at opposite ends of the dinner table. They’d been speaking only of trivial things. Occasionally Beckett would ask Ingrid a question about herself, but Ingrid never did the same in return. She thought it best to just answer the questions and not ask her own, she liked the mystery.
“You know, I was speaking with Mercer earlier this evening,”
“Oh, really?” she said as if she hadn’t a clue.
“He said he’s having trouble finding someone to pronounce us man and wife. It shouldn’t be that difficult. It doesn’t require much, just a flick of a quill really,” he said as he watched the servants set the table.
“Oh..... Just a simple paper signing...” she said. She sounded disappointed.
“Yes. Why spend weeks on end planning a wedding that’s only really going to last not even an hour - and better yet, why do that when I can have it over and done with in minuets by simply signing an official document?” he said.
“Well.... I suppose,” she said and still she sounded disappointed. She looked into one of the many spoons at her place in which she could see her reflection staring back at her - they were so well polished that she couldn’t imagine the amount of elbow-grease that had most likely been used. She thought for a moment before lifting her head up again to speak. “Yes, that does make a lot of sense.”
“You didn’t want a wedding, did you?” he asked, in a way which gave Ingrid the idea that he did not.
“Not really. I did think it would’ve been nice though. My older sister Clare’s wedding was lovely, even for something so cheap,” she answered.
“That’s right; your father did mention that he’d married her off just recently. I wasn’t on good terms with him after he’d said that. I really had hoped to meet the three of you as he’d promised in one of his letters but of course he’d lied,” he paused before continuing, “What is your older sister like?”
“Well, personality wise, she’s really just an older version of myself. She looks a lot like me, though, she has blue eyes and not green, it’s the only way you can tell us apart really, and it makes her the most like mother,” Ingrid replied.
“Your father did say she was the most like your mother and that she was his favourite on account of that,” he said as a large soup tureen was placed in the centre of the table. The dish hadn’t been there long but the smell of what was underneath the lid had already began to escape into the room’s atmosphere.
“Oh yes, she was. But as soon as he gave Clare away he began to favour me. I’m not too sure if I liked it or not though,” she admitted. She could smell what was under the lid of the tureen as it lifted to her nose, she couldn’t identify the smell but she was sure she’d smelt it somewhere before.
“Why wouldn’t you like being the favourite?” he asked.
“Oh, it had its advantages. It’s just that he was... a bit too affectionate at times and it became rather annoying. Though, the way he gave me that hug before we left... that was the only time that I’ve actually minded it, but I suppose it was due to the circumstances,” she said.
“You’re not really going to miss him are you?” he asked. She couldn’t possibly miss her father, could she?
“A little, I’m surprised,” she replied.
“Surprising. How could you possibly miss him, and that awful house?” he asked without considering her feelings.
“I’m afraid that I don’t know how to answer that. I just do.... Not the house though, horrible thing, it should be torn down really,” she replied. ‘How could someone say something like that?’
“Very well,” he said. He could clearly tell by the upset look on her face and the way she spoke that he’d hurt her feelings somewhat but it didn’t bother him much.
Dinner was taken while Beckett lectured Ingrid of his household do’s and don’ts. The list went on forever and it felt like he was simply making it up as he went along. He’d say a few rules then take some soup then say a few more. Ingrid wasn’t entirely sure which was more irritating, his tone or the list itself. “...You’re to present yourself well at all times - dress adequately for every occasion and be well mannered-”
“Sorry to interrupt, but can I just mention that I do have at least a little common sense,” she drawled, but carefully. She was sick of his long - and what seemed to be never-ending - list and wished that he’d just get to the point. She felt unwell and that made things worse. She felt strange, it started about half way through her meal but she thought it was that she was her being nervous or something. ‘My stomach... it can’t be what I ate, I only just finished... and I know it’s not that time of the month... I wonder if it’s linked to my headache..,’
“You’ve already broken one. My, that didn’t take you long did it?” he said. He then took a good look at her. She didn’t look right. “Is something the matter? You look... feverish,”
“Sorry. I have a slight headache, and it has been a long day,” she said as she placed her spoon into her soup bowl. ‘My corset... I’ve never had to wear one for this long... so I hope that he’ll let me go to bed so I can take this thing off,’
“Well, perhaps you’d better go and get some sleep then. A bath can be arranged if you’d like?” he suggested.
“I think sleep should fix it. That’s probably what it is - I’m just tired. Thank you though, for offering to have bath run all the same,” she said, though she knew it wouldn’t be from lack of sleep. It could be many things.
“Very good. Well, I shall see you sometime around lunch tomorrow as I have to attend a meeting with some Company executives,” he said but then he continued. “When you wake in the morning stay in your room until someone arrives to assist you. I don’t want you wandering around as you did today again; I think you’ve done enough of that.”
“Of course... but what shall I do if I get bored whilst waiting?” she asked.
“I can assure you, you won’t be bored. There are some books in your room that I’d like you to read when you have the time. They will help you become settled in your new life.”
“Oh dear, are these books by any chance along the lines of etiquette?” she asked.
“Yes. They are... I can’t imagine you having too many lessons on being proper so I thought they would be necessary so that you can arise to the standard that’s expected of my wife. And to ensure that you are up to date with everything and well kept. Do you understand?”
“Yes I understand perfectly. And you were right, my etiquette could do with some refining,” she said.
“Good. I shall see you tomorrow then, goodnight,” he said. He was still seated at the other side of the table, he watched her as she said goodnight and made her leave.
As soon as Ingrid was upstairs her maids organised her for bed. As they did so, they enquired about how dinner had gone. “It was alright... except he gave me a lot of rules that I must follow. It wasn’t the rules that got under my skin, it was the tone he used, he spoke down to me as if I was without even an ounce of common sense,” Ingrid said as Alice ran a brush through her hair.
“Oh, he does that to everyone - and I mean everyone - so don’t take too much offence,” she said as she placed the brush on the vanity. “There you go miss, all done,” Alice smiled.
“Well, when you say he does it to everyone it helps a little, but it’s still rather harsh don’t you think?” Ingrid said.
“Oh, don’t worry about it, the master will see that you’re a good person and he won’t be like that as often. I’ve seen him change emotions for a person in the blink of an eye, usually because they say something that he wants to hear. So here’s a bit of advice for you: always tell him what he wants to hear. Otherwise-” Alice said before Cassandra who had just pulled the bed down interrupted.
“Otherwise you’ll get a good, hard slap around the face... or on the hand... but that all depends on what you’ve gone’un said, of course.,”
“He’d hit someone if he didn’t hear what he wanted to hear?! That’s a bit cruel....” Ingrid said shocked.
“Only women though of course, with a man he’ll jus’ raise his voice. You’ll see it for yerself soon enough, I’m sure,” Cassandra said before she left.
“She thinks I’m going to be a ‘say something I shouldn’t’ person? And does she usually just disappear after saying something like that?” Ingrid asked as she got into bed. The sheets were comfortable, the mattress was soft, and the pillows were just right; everything was just too good to be true.
“Well, there isn’t a woman that’s been here that he hasn’t had an issue with, so Cassandra and I just expect it, though I’m sure it won’t be the same with you miss. And yes, she does do that a lot, come to think of it,” Alice said.
“Hmm....” Ingrid hummed as she looked straight ahead into the darkness at the other side of the room. Her thoughts were focused on what had been said in the conversation.
“Oh, do you want me to leave? Or are you just thinking?” Alice asked.
“I’m just thinking, but I suppose you may leave now. Goodnight.” Ingrid replied.
“Sorry miss... I didn’t mention it earlier, but I’m still fairly new here myself, I’ve only been a maid less than a few months, I’ve no idea why his lordship made me a ladies maid... I would’ve thought he’d choose someone with more experience,” Alice said, explaining her behaviour.
“Oh. Maybe he thinks that you would do a good job and learn quickly while doing it,” Ingrid said.
“Am I doing a good job, miss?” Alice asked.
“I can’t see anything that you’ve done wrong, so yes, a good job,” Ingrid smiled.
“Thank you miss, it means a lot to me. Goodnight,” and with that Alice left and Ingrid was left alone.
Ingrid was alone in a new house, a new room, and a new bed... a completely new life. Her thoughts were of the events of the day past and what could happen next. She soon settled though, and went to sleep.
More soon =)
Author: Lady_Elizabeth2
Chapter Two: The Investment
Characters: Lord Beckett, Mr. Mercer, Ingrid Ivory and some OC maids. Mentions: Charlotte and Charles Ivory.
Warnings: None?
Rating: PG, possibly higher/lower?
Word Count: 5151
Beta:
madame_doodle
Chapter Summary: Beckett takes Ingrid to her new home. Talk of the past and wondering about the future. My summary is really bad...
Author Notes: Due to the location of my computer being in an oven (games room with tin roof in summer = oven) when the temperature rises in the summer here I tend not to enter the oven or use the computer, or at least as often. So it might be a while until my next update. Unless I can somehow find another working power point and move my computer into the main part of the house - bless air conditioning! Anyway, I will update on this or my other work when I can.
Thank you(s): My beta Madame_Doodle, you were as awesome as always. The next one and I can’t believe I’m saying this but... thanks Mum. Really, I couldn’t have done it without her, REALLY, hehe I kind of needed Microsoft Office and she brought it for me xD but only because she can claim it because it's for school.
Lord Beckett and the Ivory’s hadn’t waited for the snowfall to lighten before Beckett and Ingrid left; there seemed no point waiting, as it was only going to get heavier. As Ingrid put her cloak on in the foyer Charlotte sobbed again whilst Charles tried to stand tall - tried and failed however, as you could clearly see the pain in his eyes. With one final turn to look back at her sister and father Ingrid smiled, she knew it would give her family some reassurance that she could and would take care of herself. And though she knew that it wasn’t necessarily true, she attempted to show it anyway.
As Mercer helped Ingrid into the carriage to sit beside Lord Beckett, Frank stowed Ingrid's trunk onto the roof. As the driver called for the horses to move on, Mercer leapt in after her and closed the door just as the carriage began to roll forwards on route to Lord Beckett's estate.
Now that Mercer was in he picked up the vase that had been placed next to him. He held the vase tightly because he had already been told of what would happen if he so much as marked it.
After scolding Mercer, Beckett apologised to Ingrid for the tone he’d used. He made a quick introduction of Ingrid to Mercer and Mercer to Ingrid, and then asked Mercer for his opinion on his bride to be.
“An excellent choice sir. I saw the other girl and I have to say that Ingrid looks much more suitable,” Mercer answered. He always made sure to give the answer that his lordship most wanted to hear.
“Yes, the other one - Charlotte, she was just as agreeable as Ingrid, only I found her rather mindless,” Beckett said, and after a short pause and a slight turn to Ingrid who sat next to him he asked, “Perhaps you could tell me why your sister is lacking intellect?”
“She’s been like that for years. You see, she was the one who, um.... found mother... and she was so young, it really traumatised her. She’s never been quite the same,” she replied. ‘Though there are other reasons too...’
“Well, it’s no wonder then,” Beckett said. And though it crossed his mind to ask about her mother’s death he knew it would be a fragile topic. Not to mention, the last thing he needed right now was to have Ingrid sobbing and if she sobbed anything like her sister did, then yes, it was very much worth preventing.
After several moments of nothing but the usual travel noises coming from the horses’ efforts and the carriage wheels annoyingly scraping themselves along the track Beckett turned to Ingrid again. “Now, before I forget; why was it that your father was so keen to marry Charlotte off instead of you?”
“Well, father and I, we think just the same as you, she is very much lacking in intellect...,” Ingrid answered a little too fast. She couldn’t help but answer with a lie. If she told the truth she would risk feeling guilty.
“Come now, that wouldn’t be the real or only reason. Tell me the truth.” Beckett said. Attempting to coax the truth out of her - he could see that she was lying.
“I- I don’t really want to...” Ingrid said.
“Oh really? And why would that be?” Beckett asked.
“Because... my sister would never forgive me if she found out that I told someone,” Ingrid answered.
“In that case she won’t find out.” He replied.
“Very well... Before we had Frank we had this horrible old man... Charlotte told me that he’d done things to her... Things that would question her virginity,” Ingrid explained, though to Beckett it seemed that she didn’t want to reveal all of the details. He was going to coax more information from her but she continued before he could. “Father hasn’t really liked Charlotte since. From what I gather it happened more than once - so I suppose she could’ve said something sooner, but she didn’t so really it’s her own fault if she’s not the virgin that she claims to be. So I suppose father wanted to offer you her hand so that he could get rid of her. Then of course, he did favour me... as you probably noticed.”
“So choosing you over your sister has been a greater investment than I originally thought,” Beckett said. He was now more pleased with his choice than he had been before.
“I fail to see why. There isn’t anything wrong with Charlotte in any other way.” she said.
“Yes, but that doesn’t matter now. I presume that you’re still a virgin? And, your father still has to deal with finding a husband for Charlotte,” Beckett said proudly, noting that he’d sunk Charles’ reputation further into the mud.
“Oh yes, I’m definitely still a virgin... I could see that father was rather annoyed with Charlotte when you took me...” she trailed off and wondered if her father would punish Charlotte.
“Excellent. Now see Mercer, the best investment can be the one which displeases the seller,” Beckett said.
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
When the carriage finally slowed and came to a complete stop, the footmen assisted Ingrid in getting out of the carriage. She looked up as she stepped down. Her new home was beautiful. It was much, much bigger than her old home, and far more elegant. It had a garden with various expensive looking statues, though they were all covered in snow. Everything was covered in snow. It was something that she’d never seen before and to think that she was going to live there - she felt like the luckiest woman alive. But was she?
“I take it that you are enjoying the view of my estate?” Beckett asked, taking her arm a little too roughly, forcing her to walk forwards with him towards the house.
“Yes, very much. I’ve never seen a more beautiful house,” she said excitedly, and Beckett of course had nothing against her claim. And she completely ignored the fact that she was practically being dragged about like a mother in a bustle-filled crowd at the markets, Beckett wondered if she cared.
“Wait until you see inside. I’ll have Mercer introduce you to your chambermaids and what have you, then I’ll leave you to wander the house,”
‘Chambermaids and what have you? Oh this is wonderful!’ she thought. “You want me to wander about on my own? My, but I’ll get lost!” she said with enthusiasm, she intended it to be slightly humorous. And when he’d given her a short chuckle at her claim she smiled as she congratulated herself for uncovering that Beckett wasn’t a completely serious person.
Once they were inside the staff were instructed by Mr. Mercer to gather in the entrance hall. The hall was well lit considering it was evening and dark outside because of the snow clouds, very unlike the one at the Ivory household and Ingrid was glad that she could see everyone clearly. She was sure that Beckett was showing off and she knew that he hadn’t thought much of her home. She noticed that her trunk was being taken up the stairs and the vase was still with Mercer. She wondered where the vase would end up - she hoped that he wouldn’t sell it and that it would become a simple ornament, another thing he could proudly show off.
Her thoughts were broken when the butler offered to take her coat. He took it outside, along with Beckett’s and shook the snow off before returning to hang them on the stand.
Beckett cleared his throat with the hand that wasn’t linked to Ingrid’s arm. “This is Ingrid and she is my fiancée. You are to give her the same respect that you give me or else you will endure the usual consequences of your actions.” Beckett watched the reactions of his staff. Most of them looked baffled; it was expected because they hadn’t expected him to bring home a fiancée out of the blue. They’d never seen her until now, nor had they heard of an ‘Ingrid’.
Beckett dismissed some of the staff, mostly those from kitchens. He then showered her two lady’s maids - Cassandra and Alice. They both curtsied. Alice was a young woman with dark brown hair, brown eyes and sharp features. Cassandra looked to be in her forties with dark blonde hair and blue eyes; she was also a reasonably big boned woman.
“Your maids will take you upstairs and show you to your room, whilst there I’d also like you to change into something that will coordinate with your new surroundings,” Beckett said.
“This is my best dress,” Ingrid answered. She wore it because it was her best; her father had told her to look well bred for when Beckett came to inspect her and her sister. It was pretty, but painfully tight - she wasn’t used to wearing something so constricting.
“Oh....” How could he forget? He bet that even her best dress was in-fact a hand-me-down. “Then these two are to take your measurements, they can then organise the making of newer ones - a whole collection of much finer fabrics will be ordered if this is the best of your attire. I trust that you’ll keep your appearance the best you can until they’re made?”
“Thank you... I understand why I must be well presented, so I shall do my best,” she said. ‘He’s not as bad as I thought he’d be. Though he is slightly arrogant,’
“It’s nothing really,” he said modestly. “I’ll be in my study, I have some things that need tending to and I ask not to be disturbed. Dinner is at half past eight, I’ll see you then,” he said, before he and Mercer took their leave and headed into the left wing. As soon as he was out of sight the rest staff scrambled back to their duties.
Ingrid was watching all the fuss when she was tapped lightly on her shoulder. When she turned around she saw her maids. Alice spoke “We’ll show you to your chamber now and take your measurements as the master instructed. Right this way,” Ingrid noticed that Alice had a very soft voice and it suited her well.
“Oh yes, of course,” Ingrid said as she followed her maids upstairs.
On her way to her chamber she couldn’t help but dart her eyes about to see every little detail of her new home. She noticed that everything was well placed, not cluttered like it had been in her family home. The white paint on the upstairs hallway walls was well contrasted with the furniture that ran along them - a few wooden bureaux scattered with ornaments - they really did made it look nice.
When her maids swung her chamber door open and showed Ingrid inside, she noted how well the room was made up. There was a large four post bed with her trunk placed at the foot of it, vanity, wardrobe, writing desk, a few windows and all the small objects that were here and there; ornaments, books and paintings. She wanted to squeal with excitement, but propriety demanded otherwise. Before Ingrid could even think about touching anything in her room Alice pulled a measuring tape out from God knows where and she and Cassandra began to push Ingrid around as they took down her measurements.
While Ingrid’s maids were taking her measurements she noticed that Cassandra gave a glance to Alice. Alice opened her mouth to speak but no words came. Ingrid noticed this, “If you have something to say, say it,” Ingrid said, and annoyed by her maid’s actions her tone was raised.
“When we first saw you we thought you might have come from a brothel. But then when he announced you... we wondered otherwise. Then of course he told us that you’re to marry him,” Cassandra said as she wrapped the tape across Ingrid’s chest.
‘He’s quite the libertine, then?’ She thought. “I am no whore! And I most certainly don’t look like one! I’m to be his wife, just as he mentioned earlier!” Ingrid corrected. It was the first time she’d said her condemned verdict out loud, and it felt a little odd.
The two maids seemed surprised even though they had already been told that it was the case. Cassandra apologised. “Sorry miss, we didn’t mean to judge you so improperly. We just thought that if the master were to ever take a wife that she’d be, well, a spoilt, arrogant, upper class brat… and you don’t seem to be like that at all.”
Ingrid wondered if what Cassandra had just told her was supposed to be some form of compliment. “I see what you mean. But I must ask; why would you imagine her to be an ‘arrogant, spoilt upper class brat?’” Ingrid asked.
“Because that breed would go well with ‘im,” Cassandra answered, before Alice could even think of a more tactful response.
“How do you mean? He appears to be a decent, nice man,” Ingrid said in disbelief of Cassandra’s claim.
This time it was Alice who jumped in first. “Oh no, he’s not... not all of the time. Just don’t get in his bad books, is all.”
“Oh most people are like that - everyone has a darker side… he probably just can’t help himself, he’s only human,” Ingrid said, trying to stick to what she had said.
“Alright, you believe what you want, miss. Just don’t come crying to us when something ‘appens between the two of you that you don’t like,” Cassandra said waggling her finger at Ingrid. And with that, she left the room.
‘For a maid, she really doesn’t know her place at all too well,’ Ingrid thought.
When Cassandra was gone Alice spoke. “Don’t you mind her miss. She and the master don’t get on too well; she tends to over-exaggerate about him all the time. It’s uh, probably that time of the month too by the sounds of things,” Alice winked. “She’s usually a lot better than this.”
“Oh... I see,” Ingrid said, smiling nervously. ‘So what you really mean is that she’s always like that…’
“Would you like me to show you around then? I suppose it’d be a big help - seeing as you’ll be living here from now on,” Alice said.
“Well if you don’t have anything better to do,” ‘I prefer Alice over Cassandra and I’ve only known them for a very short time…’
Alice gave Ingrid a quick tour, but was interrupted by other duties just after she’d finished showing her the sitting room downstairs. “I’m sure you’ll be alright to wonder around on your own now, Miss. Just don’t disturb the master,” Alice said before she disappeared.
Once Ingrid was alone her mind began to wander and so did her feet. She was admiring a painting of some London scenery that was hung on the wall in the downstairs hallway when she heard voices coming from behind one of the doors near her. As she crept closer she could decipher that the voices were those of Beckett and Mercer. Drawing even closer she could hear the words. She completely ignored what Alice had told her.
‘A week, I’m sure that a ..... wouldn’t be that busy,’ She heard Beckett say. He sounded rather fired up about something, someone. She wanted to know more but she couldn’t quite make out all the words.
Then she heard Mercer speak. ‘I offered additional money sir, and even then he said he still couldn’t be around by ............ to .......’ After making sure that no one was around, Ingrid pulled her hair behind her ear and placed the same ear on the door to see if she could understand more of the conversation. She knew she shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but she couldn’t help wondering what they were talking about and why Beckett was so eager to have this mystery man visit. She hoped she’d find out soon enough... and without getting caught.
‘Find someone else to do it then. I don’t care if he has to come from ... other side of London to ........ my marriage. I need this done now, the sooner it’s done the quicker I can..... Ingrid,’ She began to listen more intently now that she’d had her name mentioned, but although she had her ear on the door the wood was too thick to make out all the words.
‘I’ll go in the morning sir,’ she heard Mercer suggest.
‘Yes. As soon as dawn breaks you’d better be up and gone,’ She heard Beckett say, but this time it sounded closer and the words were much clearer. They had to be coming closer to the door. She quickly, but quietly made her way down the hall and pretended to admire the painting she’d admired before again.
When she heard the study door open she thought it best to turn her head. Mercer hurried off past her whilst Beckett slowly approached her.
“What are you doing?” he asked haughtily.
“Well, I told you that I liked art didn’t I?” she said before turning back to the painting.
“Yes, I believe you did,” he drawled. “But surely you don’t think that this is anything spectacular, do you?” he asked.
“Oh... I don’t know. All of the paintings that I’ve seen are nice,” she lied. She could barely remember the other paintings, they were just blurs when she walked passed them.
“Rightly so.... and I take it that everything is to your liking?” he urged.
“Oh yes, very,” she replied with a smile.
“Good,” he said noting her smile - she had a nice smile.
“I have to ask though. My ladies maids-,” she was going to ask something but was cut off.
“If you don’t like them I can easily replace them. Alice is a bit mindless and Cassandra should learn her place. Though she should already know it, really,” he said.
“Oh no, there’s nothing the matter with them. It’s just that they.... they thought that I was a - something that I’m not,” she said and made sure she’d chosen the right words.
“Oh really, and what was that?” he knew exactly what she was talking about. ‘Cassandra you never learn.’
“They thought I was a-,” she was cut off again.
“I know exactly what they thought of you. But don’t worry. It won’t happen again,” he said.
“Why? It didn’t upset me, not really. It’s just that....” she wasn’t cut off this time, she just couldn’t finish.
“That what? You think that I’m the sort of man who has a different woman in bed with me every night?” he said, he did sound rather cross and Ingrid began to worry that what Alice had warned her of was true.
“No.... not... to that extent,” she said but as she soon he got closer to her she began to regret it.
“So now you think I’m the type that behaves like that on the odd occasion?” he asked.
“Yes. I always had,” she lied, of course. It was too much of a blessing to find a man who didn’t have a woman in bed with him at least once every fortnight. And she knew it too; her father had had a few prostitutes in his bed chamber from time to time. The thought always made her feel ill.
‘Good girl,’ “It’s almost eight. You and I should wait for supper. The sitting room or the dining room?” he said.
“Don’t ask me something like that, please - you decide,” she replied.
“Dining room it is,” he said.
‘I should have said sitting room. I hope the chairs are nice... this dress is driving me insane,’ she thought, musing over her decision not to say ‘Sitting Room.’
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+Beckett and Ingrid sat at opposite ends of the dinner table. They’d been speaking only of trivial things. Occasionally Beckett would ask Ingrid a question about herself, but Ingrid never did the same in return. She thought it best to just answer the questions and not ask her own, she liked the mystery.
“You know, I was speaking with Mercer earlier this evening,”
“Oh, really?” she said as if she hadn’t a clue.
“He said he’s having trouble finding someone to pronounce us man and wife. It shouldn’t be that difficult. It doesn’t require much, just a flick of a quill really,” he said as he watched the servants set the table.
“Oh..... Just a simple paper signing...” she said. She sounded disappointed.
“Yes. Why spend weeks on end planning a wedding that’s only really going to last not even an hour - and better yet, why do that when I can have it over and done with in minuets by simply signing an official document?” he said.
“Well.... I suppose,” she said and still she sounded disappointed. She looked into one of the many spoons at her place in which she could see her reflection staring back at her - they were so well polished that she couldn’t imagine the amount of elbow-grease that had most likely been used. She thought for a moment before lifting her head up again to speak. “Yes, that does make a lot of sense.”
“You didn’t want a wedding, did you?” he asked, in a way which gave Ingrid the idea that he did not.
“Not really. I did think it would’ve been nice though. My older sister Clare’s wedding was lovely, even for something so cheap,” she answered.
“That’s right; your father did mention that he’d married her off just recently. I wasn’t on good terms with him after he’d said that. I really had hoped to meet the three of you as he’d promised in one of his letters but of course he’d lied,” he paused before continuing, “What is your older sister like?”
“Well, personality wise, she’s really just an older version of myself. She looks a lot like me, though, she has blue eyes and not green, it’s the only way you can tell us apart really, and it makes her the most like mother,” Ingrid replied.
“Your father did say she was the most like your mother and that she was his favourite on account of that,” he said as a large soup tureen was placed in the centre of the table. The dish hadn’t been there long but the smell of what was underneath the lid had already began to escape into the room’s atmosphere.
“Oh yes, she was. But as soon as he gave Clare away he began to favour me. I’m not too sure if I liked it or not though,” she admitted. She could smell what was under the lid of the tureen as it lifted to her nose, she couldn’t identify the smell but she was sure she’d smelt it somewhere before.
“Why wouldn’t you like being the favourite?” he asked.
“Oh, it had its advantages. It’s just that he was... a bit too affectionate at times and it became rather annoying. Though, the way he gave me that hug before we left... that was the only time that I’ve actually minded it, but I suppose it was due to the circumstances,” she said.
“You’re not really going to miss him are you?” he asked. She couldn’t possibly miss her father, could she?
“A little, I’m surprised,” she replied.
“Surprising. How could you possibly miss him, and that awful house?” he asked without considering her feelings.
“I’m afraid that I don’t know how to answer that. I just do.... Not the house though, horrible thing, it should be torn down really,” she replied. ‘How could someone say something like that?’
“Very well,” he said. He could clearly tell by the upset look on her face and the way she spoke that he’d hurt her feelings somewhat but it didn’t bother him much.
Dinner was taken while Beckett lectured Ingrid of his household do’s and don’ts. The list went on forever and it felt like he was simply making it up as he went along. He’d say a few rules then take some soup then say a few more. Ingrid wasn’t entirely sure which was more irritating, his tone or the list itself. “...You’re to present yourself well at all times - dress adequately for every occasion and be well mannered-”
“Sorry to interrupt, but can I just mention that I do have at least a little common sense,” she drawled, but carefully. She was sick of his long - and what seemed to be never-ending - list and wished that he’d just get to the point. She felt unwell and that made things worse. She felt strange, it started about half way through her meal but she thought it was that she was her being nervous or something. ‘My stomach... it can’t be what I ate, I only just finished... and I know it’s not that time of the month... I wonder if it’s linked to my headache..,’
“You’ve already broken one. My, that didn’t take you long did it?” he said. He then took a good look at her. She didn’t look right. “Is something the matter? You look... feverish,”
“Sorry. I have a slight headache, and it has been a long day,” she said as she placed her spoon into her soup bowl. ‘My corset... I’ve never had to wear one for this long... so I hope that he’ll let me go to bed so I can take this thing off,’
“Well, perhaps you’d better go and get some sleep then. A bath can be arranged if you’d like?” he suggested.
“I think sleep should fix it. That’s probably what it is - I’m just tired. Thank you though, for offering to have bath run all the same,” she said, though she knew it wouldn’t be from lack of sleep. It could be many things.
“Very good. Well, I shall see you sometime around lunch tomorrow as I have to attend a meeting with some Company executives,” he said but then he continued. “When you wake in the morning stay in your room until someone arrives to assist you. I don’t want you wandering around as you did today again; I think you’ve done enough of that.”
“Of course... but what shall I do if I get bored whilst waiting?” she asked.
“I can assure you, you won’t be bored. There are some books in your room that I’d like you to read when you have the time. They will help you become settled in your new life.”
“Oh dear, are these books by any chance along the lines of etiquette?” she asked.
“Yes. They are... I can’t imagine you having too many lessons on being proper so I thought they would be necessary so that you can arise to the standard that’s expected of my wife. And to ensure that you are up to date with everything and well kept. Do you understand?”
“Yes I understand perfectly. And you were right, my etiquette could do with some refining,” she said.
“Good. I shall see you tomorrow then, goodnight,” he said. He was still seated at the other side of the table, he watched her as she said goodnight and made her leave.
As soon as Ingrid was upstairs her maids organised her for bed. As they did so, they enquired about how dinner had gone. “It was alright... except he gave me a lot of rules that I must follow. It wasn’t the rules that got under my skin, it was the tone he used, he spoke down to me as if I was without even an ounce of common sense,” Ingrid said as Alice ran a brush through her hair.
“Oh, he does that to everyone - and I mean everyone - so don’t take too much offence,” she said as she placed the brush on the vanity. “There you go miss, all done,” Alice smiled.
“Well, when you say he does it to everyone it helps a little, but it’s still rather harsh don’t you think?” Ingrid said.
“Oh, don’t worry about it, the master will see that you’re a good person and he won’t be like that as often. I’ve seen him change emotions for a person in the blink of an eye, usually because they say something that he wants to hear. So here’s a bit of advice for you: always tell him what he wants to hear. Otherwise-” Alice said before Cassandra who had just pulled the bed down interrupted.
“Otherwise you’ll get a good, hard slap around the face... or on the hand... but that all depends on what you’ve gone’un said, of course.,”
“He’d hit someone if he didn’t hear what he wanted to hear?! That’s a bit cruel....” Ingrid said shocked.
“Only women though of course, with a man he’ll jus’ raise his voice. You’ll see it for yerself soon enough, I’m sure,” Cassandra said before she left.
“She thinks I’m going to be a ‘say something I shouldn’t’ person? And does she usually just disappear after saying something like that?” Ingrid asked as she got into bed. The sheets were comfortable, the mattress was soft, and the pillows were just right; everything was just too good to be true.
“Well, there isn’t a woman that’s been here that he hasn’t had an issue with, so Cassandra and I just expect it, though I’m sure it won’t be the same with you miss. And yes, she does do that a lot, come to think of it,” Alice said.
“Hmm....” Ingrid hummed as she looked straight ahead into the darkness at the other side of the room. Her thoughts were focused on what had been said in the conversation.
“Oh, do you want me to leave? Or are you just thinking?” Alice asked.
“I’m just thinking, but I suppose you may leave now. Goodnight.” Ingrid replied.
“Sorry miss... I didn’t mention it earlier, but I’m still fairly new here myself, I’ve only been a maid less than a few months, I’ve no idea why his lordship made me a ladies maid... I would’ve thought he’d choose someone with more experience,” Alice said, explaining her behaviour.
“Oh. Maybe he thinks that you would do a good job and learn quickly while doing it,” Ingrid said.
“Am I doing a good job, miss?” Alice asked.
“I can’t see anything that you’ve done wrong, so yes, a good job,” Ingrid smiled.
“Thank you miss, it means a lot to me. Goodnight,” and with that Alice left and Ingrid was left alone.
Ingrid was alone in a new house, a new room, and a new bed... a completely new life. Her thoughts were of the events of the day past and what could happen next. She soon settled though, and went to sleep.
More soon =)