Chapter 5: Verindale

            The old Lady Margaret embraced the young heir of Felandencia Dukedom as its carriage reached the frontal gate of her mediocre abode. The butlers carried Lady Francesca’s luggage inside with the aid of Lady Maragret’s footman.

            “What a great pleasure you are here, young maiden? I am sorry about your father,” her grandma consoled amidst their tight embrace while gently soothing her back. She knew how hard must it been for her granddaughter to handle.

            “Oh heavens! How I miss the warmth of your embrace,” Lady Francesca honestly admitted. Through her grandma, she was able to have the pleasure of hugging something identical to that of the scent of her late mother.

            After what feels like an eternity, Lady Margaret slowly let go of her granddaughter. She look at her thoroughly starting from the hem of her dress up to the end of her hairs.

            “You look exactly like your mother when she was at your age,” she couldn’t help but to retort, which gave a blast on her ladyship.

            “T’was all thanks to you, grandma, that we had such good genes,” Lady Francesca cracked a joke to lighten up the nostalgic atmosphere.

            “Why don’t we go inside and have a proper seat?” old Lady Margaret suggested. Both ladies sauntered inside and into the salon, where a maid served them freshly extracted camomile flower tea imported from India.

            They spent almost half the day talking about each others life; indulge in some of the epic memories they had done in the past; and finally retire for a nightly respite. The coachmen and butlers were given free rooms to rest before they would start their journey back to the manor, and return back again once Lady Francesca decided to go home.

            Laying her back on the soft foam placed atop the oak-made mattress, Lady Francesca looked at the starry sky above her heads. The ceiling of her room was designed to have a small opening covered only with transparent glass so as to offer a free view of the night sky, which her mom used to love.

            As a matter of fact, the room she is occupying was Duchess Savrina’s old room before she met Duke Landon of Feladencia and later get married to him and moved out for good to start a family.

            The Anderson family was one amongst the pillar of London, particularly the earldom of Verindale as it holds a huge share in the tea industry. It was Lady Savrina’s younger brother who was managing the family business and ought to inherit almost eighty percent of it, leaving the rest to Savrina’s daughter.

***

            Early the next morning before the sun even sets in, Lady Francesca’s retinue started their journey back to Feladencia. Lady Margaret was able to bid them formal goodbye in behalf of her still sleeping granddaughter, which was for sure, exhausted from the long travel yesterday and the other day.

            Only about half near lunch when finally the young lady woke up from deep slumber. Body now fully recharged for a whole day vigorous activity. As per custom, they will be going to visit the local tea store in the market the family owns.

            And it’s been a long time since she visited her, that’s why excitement cannot be hide on her glowing aura and colorful choice of outdoor dress to wear. It was Lady Margaret’s handmaid that assisted her in perfectly arranging her expensive layered clad.

            And grandma, then assured, they will be hiring new temporary handmaid that would cater on Lady Francesca’s personal needs in the absence of Eloisa. The old granny didn’t bother to ask why about the absence, for she trusts her granddaughter was old enough to know what is she doing and what decision she make in her life.

            “Way to go now, young lady,” Lady Margaret chirpily offered to her mimicking a curtsy as she motioned towards the awaiting hackney. Lady Francesca smiled genuinely with the joyful spirit she received. It has been long since she smiled from the bottom pit of her heart after the loss she experienced, which she still have now, only that, she learned how to be positive about it again.

            “After you most respectable mother of my mother, Lady Margaret Anderson,” Lady Francesca fired back with the same humor and sincerity. She held on her grandma’s hand and ushered them both in the hackney.

            Not long after a short travel, they’ve reach the flee market. They unmounted from the hired hackney and handed few Guinea coins as a just fare to the coach.

            The place was crowded with diverse people of color, races, and most notably of social classes. Most of the vendors and merchants were wearing simply to moderate lavish clothes. Pretty few were dressed in a lucrative deluxe garments like hers.

            The atmosphere was almost impossible to describe just in one word. From one certain corner, people were playing some sort of card games, board games and even ping-pongs. Cheerings of people on their bets were loud and overpowering. On the other side, people were catering on their on-sale horse, cows, and cattle, which were rather, producing natural animal sounds… and when combined were quite disastrous to the ear.

            Until finally, the two ladies were able to surpass the noises part of the flee market. The noises slowly died down as they entered the warm market of garments, muslin, silks and any other type of cloth that can be sold.

            Lady Francesca couldn’t help but to feel amazed and awed on the different items displayed, appealing to her womanly senses on fashion and dressing. Verindale’s garment stores was in no doubt way better than that in Feladencia. Perhaps, it was because they the largest producer of silk in the country.

            They continued walking until they entered the wine cellars sections where their family tea store was also situated. Immediately, Lord Bastien, Lady Savrina’s brother welcomed them with pleasure.

            After a short exchange of greetings, the three of them entered the shop. And as Lady Francesca used to do when visiting, she separated from the elderly and ventured on her own.

            Walking along the elongated shelves containing different teas, she read them one by one. Amongst her favorite were teas coming from China particularly that extracted from unique Chinese herbs such as ginseng. In fact it was the largest importer of tea both in the east and in the west side of the world.

            After a mindless venture, she found herself on the storage room of the shop. Her eyes literally drop with the numerous quantity of tea stocks wrapped secured on breakable glasses. Some were still on their raw form, yet to be processed and extracted for tea flavorings.

            She walked and walked, rounding the corner, until her eyes landed on a strange door-like frame partly covered by few branches of preserved roots for healthy tonics. Triggering her curiosity, she cleared the way and the finally realizing the accuracy of her guess. Indeed, it was a door.

            “Where does it lead?” she asked herself. Looking over her shoulder, she could see no sign of both Lady Margaret nor Lord Bastien. They must have been busy addressing some business concern. The only option left to unveil the answer is to open it.

            Sliding the medium-sized metal rod locking the door from the inside, Lady Francesca gingerly opened the door. It produced small sound of creaking as evident of its long stagnancy.

            She grasped on her realization. The door led to an empty space with few small tents as if serving as an extension of the main flee market inside. It was then, things started to sink in her mind.

            The door she just opened was one of the emergency door meant to be use only in cases of emergency like sudden fire outbreaks, earthquakes etc.

            From a short distance, she could see glimpse of the colorful silk displays on the extension market. Now, her innate desire and passion for fashion suddenly awakens and she could, take control of it, no more.

            Closing the door from behind, she walked towards the vendors. T’was a good thing, she always carry with her silvers in case she ought to buy something that suits her taste and gallantry.

            “My lady, this imported yarn from Middle East will definitely make you a warm and sturdy scarf once knitted,” one seller tried to offer. Lady Francesca halted a bit to fast scan her items. It more of raw yarns and unprocessed plain clothes. Now that she ain’t have a personal handmaid, who could work it out for her. She passed her be.

            Lady Francesca checked on the next and next until she found herself entering the main garment section of the flee market they once passed not long ago. She instantly had a recollection of a peach colored muslin darted with a soft hint of petal pink, which caught her attention while they were passing by.

            She rolled her vision 360 degrees as to find the fabulous item, remained intact in her head. And gotcha! The wonderfully hanged peach muslin was just about fifteen steps away from where she was standing.

            She literally ran towards it, but to her dismay, the item was way up high, out of her reach.

            “You want the peach muslin, maiden?” A random passerby asked. Lady Francesca nod in admission. “You better asked the seller’s assistance. Go and check her inside,” the passerby added while motioning her hand on the right.

            Lady Francesca realized there was a main store inside. The displayed muslin along with other garments were just displayed outside to lure people in, and it successfully did with the young lady.

            As she was nearing the end stack of hanging silks at the opposite end of the open entrance, she could hear voices… one low and hoarse, and the other sweet and giggling.

            And to her innocence, the Feladencian heir couldn’t figure out what’s going on behind those garments and tapestries, without witnessing it herself.

***

            “You sure had the most perfect curve and figure among all ladies I’ve met in the entirety of my life,” a low voice of a man said, using the overused flowery words he had given to almost tens of women already.

            “Even compared to all noble ladies?” the sweet tone asked. Instead of a wordy answer, the gentleman shut her lips and washed her doubts away with a deep and passionate kiss, making the woman moan in delight and inexplicable pleasure.

            “What a delight it was... t-to have… a re...respectable earl ravishing you for dear life,” the sweet woman whispered in between heaving cry of excitement.

            In the middle of the two’s intimate moment, the cloth displays concealing them away from the public were parted into halves.

            “Lord Syford!” the sweet temptress instinctively shouted in surprise as she turns her have naked body towards the man’s chest.

***

           

            The woman who happened to witness the vulgar insolence act was, needless to say, Lady Francesca. Her cheeks automatically burned in embarrassment for witnessing such intimacy. Despite her reputation for causing scandals in their dukedom, it never had involved anything sexual and explicit as like this. That’s why she was so shock having to witness it first hand.

            She didn’t had the luxury of time to look at the faces of the individuals, but she was quite sure of seeing a rare pair of expensive leather combat boots of a man when she withdrew her gaze to the floor. It was her clue that he was a noble of some sort.

            Who on earth, in a broad delight, attempt to perform vulgarity in a dense place rather unsecured? She thought.