An Improper Courtship

“One hour away!” a small boy slid across the deck, announcing to all passengers aboard The Destiny, the time left of the crossing from Calais to Dover. Rosalie was lost in thought, the words barely bouncing off her back as she considered everything that had led her up to this point in her life.  Being a proper lady had never crossed Rosalie’s mind. Her mother, Karina, had been an author in a world where the sole acceptable job for a woman of her standing could have, was to be a wife and mother. Living in the 15eme arrondissement of Paris, a simple promenade away from la Seine et Les Bois de Boulogne, Rosalie’s background was different, to say the least. Her Maman, a woman of worldly heritage who had chosen France as her home, had profusely rejected societal expectations and along with it, matrimony with Rosalie’s father, an English gentilhomme.  At 16, on the brink of adulthood, Rosalie had discovered with her fresh eyes the abnormal relationship that encompassed her Maman’s and Father’s love. The love for her Father decreased and the situation her Maman lived in unraveled itself. For reasons Rosalie couldn't comprehend, her Father had given up his pursuit of Karina and married into a wealthy family increasing his finances. Until 16, the coming and going of her Father was a joyous and heartbreaking occasion. Until that age, Rosalie had loved her Father unconditionally as any child would. Until that precarious age, Rosalie had felt as normal as a girl could. Rosalie and her Maman had had an easy relationship until her understanding and sense of the world came crashing down and Rosalie learned of her Father’s second family life in London. Rosalie grew up a spectator in her own family life, never understanding the relationship of her parents, never having the courage to breathe words of complaint when it came to her Maman’s happiness but also never quite understanding the own precarity of her position. Due to her Maman’s improper choices meant Rosalie and Karina lived on the fringes of society, spectators of French society. Rosalie brought her head down to her ship's verandah barrier and breathed deeply. The sea sprayed a salty reminder that she was leaving her home and all that she knew. After her Maman’s quick departure from this world, life had taken a different rhythm.  Across the verandah Mr Michael Jameson observed his daughter in her fidgety motion, their strained relationship over the past three years was something he found too hard to bear. There had been a shift in their relationship when hugs had transformed to pulling away, when her welcoming smile had morphed into a distasteful frown and when her humorous wit had dissipated into sharp tongue and venom directed purely at him. Karina had whispered under the cover of the dark that Rosalie would come to accept their situation, that she was resentful but at the end, there would be acceptance.  His deep wounds of guilt self-inflicted by societal decisions could never heal properly whilst under Rosalie's unforgiving gaze. When Karina had died, Michael's world came shattering down. His heart ached for the loss, his brain cursed his situation. The conversation with his wife had been tense, to say the least, Kate was aware of his infidelities but he couldn't bring back a nearly grown woman and induce her into the harsh English society as his daughter. In efforts of redemption, he formulated the plan to introduce her as the daughter of his cousin who had died abroad, a story that brought enough sympathy and not too much curiosity.   The irony was too clear for Rosalie, she would be under the ward of Lady Kate Fedora, her Father’s wife and Sir Michael Ralph Jameson. Her new 'sisters' Alyssa Peach and Honey Rose would perfect her etiquette and provide companionship. The journey across the English Channel had been a journey with very few words, Rosalie was resolute in her silence and Micheal unskilled in bridging the emotional void. Upon arrival, Rosalie was silently surprised to find that the sky had not rained all over them in Dover, she had read of England’s rainy tendencies and had expected nothing less. As her Father had explained in his correspondence they would go to their country home in Hertfordshire, away from the prying eyes of the London. They would spend 3 weeks as a family trying to establish a united front. It didn't seem to bother the two perfect girls that they had a half-sister. One of them seemed overjoyed, the other showed training in controlling emotions on her bony structured face.   To Rosalie's surprise, Kate didn't bat an eye at the ‘bastard’ child now living in her house. She was as warm and endearing as her energy allowed her to be. Energy she conserved to stop the occasional trembles her hands made and covering her eye when it drooped. Perhaps it was because Rosalie had just entered their world with fresh eyes or perhaps her daughters were too blind to see those alarming first signs of illness, whatever it was Rosalie felt uncomfortable at how fragile the illusion of perfection was.  On Rosalie’s third morning in Hertfordshire, the sun shone brightly and after a light breakfast and heaps of tea and coffee, all the Jameson ladies were to go out and collect flowers to decorate their hats with. Rosalie tried as she may but could not block the sigh of irritation when told their itinerary for the day. Surely, there was something more useful than to decorate hats with flowers.    "Couldn't we do something much more...useful?" she asked, trying to find the right word. Kate smiled softly at her from across the table and both the young innocent girls turned to her in a slight daze as though she had morphed green under their eyes.  "Does this not interest you, Rosalie. Should we find something else to do?" Honey asked, they had only known each other but a few days yet Rosalie noticed Honey’s constant need to please her. Please everyone.  "We could argue that hat decorating can be entirely useful. Useful in attracting the right sort of attention," Alyssa interrupted. Rose just sipped her tea in response, shrugging her slender shoulders. There was no point arguing, she was here to stay and she didn't want to cause trouble.  Her Father sat silently as usual, yet barely moving, he reached out to hold Kate's hand and though it Rosalie her to see him do so, the necessity dawned. Kate’s hands were twitching. "In fact, if we consider on closer inspection, these hats could be a helpful accessory to mapping out your whole future" Alyssa stated proud with her answer, cleaning her mouth with the napkin, even though Rosalie was sure she had hardly eaten. Rosalie smiled and decided to keep her comments to herself. She doubted the male gaze even saw the hats. Probably saw anything else than the hats. It was obvious that the three girls shared very different views when it came to marriage, men and life. Alyssa and Honey had been brought up as very examples of propriety whereas Rosalie struggled to find her footing at Ranley mansion, let alone figure out what was improper.  She was sure that her first conversation with Kate, upon arrival hadn’t been proper. Improper as it may have been, it had been... nice.  "I really don't want to beat around the bush, and so I'd like to clear the air by saying I hold no grudges against you or your dead mother," Kate said, sitting delicately in the drawing-room, looking as though just a breeze could destabilise her center. Rosalie, who had barely collected her breath from her long journey to England, was stunned by the words and nodded. "I guess I should thank you then," "No, don't thank me, just accept us as we are,"    She would do her best to accept them as they were. “It’s fine, Honey, I’ve never really decorated hats, so it's an occasion to try. “ Rosalie reassured, “Just don’t expect too much,”.