Wallflower

1765 London, England.

~~~

Lawrence Walter, a man who sits at the epitome of British society. Arguably the most handsome man in England, his hair is soft, golden in color, as if it was sunshine itself. His eyes are icy blue, entrancing people in its harshness for as long as anyone could remember. Fair skin and a well built figure makes him the most sought after man in society. But to the ladies dismay, he never let them get close. He dislikes easy women, and sadly for him, his looks made women into such easy putty that he instantly dislikes them. His cold, stoic nature then draws them even closer, and he pushes them away even more desperately. Hence the impasse. His genius in business, however, is even more famous than his face.

Sitting at his desk, he attempts to clear his messy desk. Sighing, he begins to work through his paperwork for the day. Managing a business is no easy task, especially when you have to balance a busy social life with it. 

“Ren! Have you heard?” barging into his office, Damian Skyler slams his hands onto Lawrence’s desk, scattering papers everywhere. Damian is a jack of all trades, able to do anything and everything. He is every bit as handsome as his friend. His wavy dark brown hair shone in the light, contrasting with his emerald green eyes. He’s twenty three, and is a well known playboy. No lady can resist his charm even if they know they’ll be discarded soon after. They all hope they’re different from the others, that they’ll have his heart. But it hasn’t happened yet. Deflowering those beautiful ladies is something he is widely known for, and tries to drag his best buddy down the same path. 

“Damian, how many times have I told you to knock first? And don’t call me Ren.” he replies coldly. 

“Seriously, I’ve known you since forever. Don’t be like that to your best bud.” Damian pouts, but he was used to his childhood friend treating him like that. He could tell on the inside Lawrence was only joking.

Sighing, Lawrence puts down pen. “So what is it that you’ve come for?”

“The Prime Minister is holding a ball, hoping to marry off some of his daughters. Are you going? Even if the daughters are subpar, there will be other ladies there.” Damian says excitedly.

“Robert Grayson? Didn’t see him as the type who would hold a ball, even for his daughters.” Lawrence enquiries, he met the man once before and he was most definitely the type that hated public spectacle.

“Rumor has it that his wife made him do it, she’s worried that her daughters will never get married despite being the children of the Prime Minister. She probably blames it on his disregard for society. He rarely appears in public, and his three daughters were sent overseas for some time. They’re said to be absolute beauties, and each more talented than the next. I would love to score one, what do you think?” Damian, breathless, turns to Lawrence, hoping to share his enthusiasm. 

“I’ve heard there is a fourth sister.” Lawrence replies, hoping to not be dragged to another ball by his friend. No matter how much he loves his best friend, he hates crowded places. 

“Really? Guess I still can’t beat the number one man in all of London.” he shrugs. Smirking, he walks around the desk and nudges his friend, “Come on, don’t act like you aren’t curious, let’s go have some fun.”

“You just want to add to your collection of sluts.” Lawrence deadpans. 

“Come on, even if you’re right, it’s more fun if you tag along.” Damian pleads. 

Lawrence, realizing that there was no way his friend would concede and just let him sit this one out, sighs, and finally agrees to go to the party. 

“Yes! Success, the party’s tonight at 6. It’s being held at the Minister’s estate, don’t be late, I’ll be waiting!” and with that Damian was out the door, probably to hit up another girl. 

Exhausted, Lawrence turns back to his ever towering paperwork and groans. This is going to be a long day, he thinks, and dread courses through his body.

~~~

“Callista! Aria! Lilith! Phoebe! Come down stairs immediately!” A beautiful, poised lady stands at the bottom of the stairs of the Grayson estate. Her name is Josephine Grayson, wife of Robert Grayson, the Prime Minister of England, and the mother of four beautiful and talented daughters. 

“Coming Mother!” replies a chorus of four crystalline voices, although one sounded more like an angel than a human. Four beautiful girls run down the staircase, lining up in front of their mother. Callista, twenty one years old, a talented artist. She has lived overseas in Spain since she was six with her mother’s cousin, drawing and gaining a reputation for herself. Waist length platinum blond hair is draped over her shoulder, and two hazy, soft blue eyes gaze out from her petite face. Aria, twenty years old, a prodigious musician. Lived overseas in Venice until a few months ago when her mother called her back. She has mastery over any and all instruments, but even that talent can not hold a flame to the sound of her voice. Shoulder length dark brown hair frames her strong features. Passionate dark blue eyes, stare, waiting for their mother to speak. Lilith, Aria’s twin sister, lived with her father’s sister in Cambridge, until Mrs. Grayson called her back to London as well. Talented at speaking and exceptional at acting, although it was impossible for females to be actresses. Her brown hair is in curls, and her dark blue eyes hold the same passion as her twin. Standing side by side, the sister’s are nearly completely identical, despite only seeing each other a few weeks each year ever since they were twelve, and desired to travel as Callista did. Phoebe, the youngest of her sisters, only eighteen years old. She has buried herself in the estates library ever since she learned to read. Shy, but intelligent, she is an avid reader who holds an insatiable desire to read. She has platinum blond hair like her eldest sister, but her eyes are a pale green. Her eyes shyly stare at the ground, wishing she was back in the library. 

“Why on earth are you girls not preparing for the ball tonight! Do you know how hard it was to convince your father to hold a ball?”

“Sorry mother.” the girls say in unison. Looking at each other, they knew none of them were looking forward to it. 

“I know Callista, Aria, and Lilith won’t let me down. They will undoubtedly be the stars of the ball. But you,” Mrs. Grayson walks slowly towards Phoebe, “You are incapable of interacting with other people.”

Flinching, Phoebe holds back tears and nods. She knows that her Mother just wants what’s best for her. 

“Alright, I expect all of you to start preparing. Remember, best behavior tonight. I hope all of you can finally get married.” sighing, Josephine walks away to the sitting room, dispatching a maid to get her tea and biscuits.

“Come on, we’d better get moving.” Callista takes the lead, and the sister’s all walk upstairs. Reluctantly, Phoebe follows, longing to open the French doors once again and enter the library. Walking into her room, she strips and calls a maid in to help with her corset.

The other sisters eventually began to feel anticipation as they dressed up, and suddenly that party which they dreaded so badly seemed like it could be fun. They had never been to a ball which was held for them, and they were giddy with excitement.

Callista puts on a beautiful baby blue chiffon ball gown with tulip sleeves adorned with what seemed to be an endless sea of frills. After applying a fair amount of makeup and perfume, she chooses to wear a pair of diamond drop earrings with a matching multi strand diamond choker. Her maids carefully style her hair into a French twist, as Callista admires her reflection, believing that without a doubt she would be the star of the ball.

Aria, after an hour of contemplation, finally decides on a creamy yellow silk ball gown adorned with a few pearls and puff sleeves. Deciding on forgoing most of her makeup, she has her maids help her apply some rouge and some orange and yellow sandalwood perfume as she chooses a pair of topaz stud earrings with a simple topaz rivière to wear. As her maids twirled her hair into a low bun, Aria contemplated what type of music will be played at the ball, and if she would be allowed to play.

Lilith rummages through her walk-in closet, looking for the dress she knew she had in there a few days ago which she prepared for the very ball occurring that night. Finally, at the very back, she pulls out a midnight blue satin ball gown that seemed to shine in the light. With long fitted sleeves, the dress had a few embroideries. The gown is beautiful in its simpleness, and Lilith admired the dress before having the maids help her get dressed. She had the maids redden her lips and used a bit of rouge. With a spritz of lavender perfume, she puts on a pair of sapphire cluster earrings and a necklace with a single sapphire on a chain. Her maids braid her hair into a crown braid updo and wonders if she really could find a man both she and her mother would be satisfied with.

Phoebe silently resigns to be dressed like a doll by her maids. They carefully help her wear a hunter green velvet ball gown with poet sleeves decorated with lace. Telling her maids to not apply any makeup on her face, she puts on a pair of emerald chandelier earrings and an emerald matinee. With just a dab of cinnamon and nutmeg perfume, her maids skillfully weave her hair into a Dutch braided low bun. Finally done, Phoebe dismisses her maids and wishes that the ball would be over already. 

~~~

Lawrence stands in front of the Grayson estate, admiring the architecture. Soon, he knew, other guests would be arriving and spoil his serene mood. But for the moment, he decided to enjoy the outside air. 

“Ren! You’re here! Probably five minutes early as always, am I right?” Damian pops out of seemingly nowhere as he embraces his friend.

“Yeah, you’re correct as always. You look nice, like you’re trying to seduce every woman that’ll be at the ball.” jokes Lawrence.

“So you can be funny! Or perhaps you’re serious? I can’t tell.” laughs Damian.

Lawrence becomes colder and colder as more guests arrive, wishing he could just run away. Dragged by his friend, they head into the estate.

~~~

“Please, I really don’t want to go. Especially now that you’ve applied rouge on my face.” pleads Phoebe, as her sisters drag her down the hall to join their parents in welcoming the guests.

“Come on! You’re all dressed up now anyways, so just go with the flow.” counters Lilith.

“Yeah! Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” adds in Aria, struggling to pull Phoebe along.

“But I really do not like this type of event.” begs Phoebe. The dread of being at the center of attention was increasing with every step. Lilith circles behind Phoebe and starts pushing, helping her twin. Phoebe, sandwiched between her sisters, has no choice but to be moved to the door of the ballroom. Upon entering, Callista closes the door immediately.

“If you leave, Mother and Father will be furious, so stay. Capisce?” Callista asks, getting in Phoebe’s face. Meekly, Phoebe nods. Satisfied, her sisters go to greet the guests. Phoebe, hoping to avoid arousing the interest of any of the guests, walks along the wall. Finally reaching a relatively safe alcove, Phoebe relaxes and observes the guests. Catching her eye, she notices two amazingly handsome men stroll in. One with golden hair and one with dark brown hair. Curious, Phoebe watches as the Goldie - she decides to refer to them by their hair color - shakes hands with her Father. Goldie then seems to introduce Brownie, and then Brownie shakes her Father’s hand. Looking away from the two men, she searches the ballroom for her sisters. She finds them easily, and sees the chattering excitedly and pointing towards Goldie and Brownie. 

~~~

After shaking hands with Mr. Grayson, Lawrence introduces him to Damian. They then start chatting about politics, while Damian is somehow able to talk to the Prime Minister as if they were old friends. Suddenly, a pretty young lady approached Damian. 

“Hello,” she says, her voice sweet yet light. An alluringly musical voice, Damian was intrigued but I felt slightly put off by her forwardness. “My name is Aria, Aria Grayson.”

“A pleasure, Lady Aria.” Damian smoothly moves forward to stand beside her, “This is one of your daughters, I presume, sir. She’s quite beautiful, but her voice is impossibly angelic. When she opened her mouth I thought an angel had descended upon us.”

“Oh, you flatter me.” chuckles the Prime Minister. Lawrence looks around, and notices a heavily decorated young lady walking towards him. Excusing himself from the conversation, Damian tries to run away but finds that there are actually many women looking at him and trying to approach him. Desperate, he looks for the most tolerable woman. Noticing a lady in a green dress by an alcove, he calmly walks toward her. Hoping his instinct was right he comes to a stop in front of the young lady.

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing? You’re much too beautiful to be a wallflower, come dance with me.” Lawrence, carefully observing the lady, sees that she seemed to bear the same expression he has when being approached by a female. 

“Um, sir, I can’t possibly, I, I, I really do not think…” trailing off, Phoebe wishes that she could disappear. Why on earth would Goldie approach her? 

“Please, I do not wish to be swarmed by those terrifying females. Do me a favor, I’ll owe you big time, please.” Lawrence, slightly amused by the girl’s similarity to himself, reaches out his hand. Phoebe, realizing that this handsome man, like her, hated social gatherings took this as a chance to stop her parents nagging. Although slightly apologetic to Callista, timidly places her hand in his. Smiling, he guides her to the dance floor. Slowly dancing the waltz, the other women drifted away one by one, looking for other men to dance with. 

“So what is your name little wallflower?” asks Lawrence. Startled, Phoebe nearly misses a step, but recovers quickly.

“Phoebe. My name is Phoebe Grayson. What is yours?”

“Lawrence Walter, a pleasure to make your acquaintance Lady Phoebe. Are you one of Mr. Grayson’s daughters?”

“Yes, I am his fourth daughter. The one in a baby blue dress that tried approaching you is his first daughter Callista, and then the twins Aria and Lilith.” After a few moments of random questions, they find a shared love of books. After dancing for hours while contemplating which is the best book, or who is the best author, Phoebe finds herself falling in love with Lawrence, and vice versa. But fear of it not being reciprocated stuffs the feeling away at the back of their minds. 

“Did you realize that you’re dancing with the most desired man in all of England? I’m filthy rich, a genius at business, and apparently handsome beyond comparison. Except perhaps Damian.” Lawrence asks suddenly, “Also, if you haven’t noticed, nearly everyone is looking at us. I suppose they thought the wallflower couldn’t dance.”

“What, wait what?” stunned, Phoebe looked around, and indeed everyone's eyes are focused on them. Unknowingly, she had become the star of the ball. She sees her Mother and Father crying tears of joy, Lilith gives her a thumbs up, and Aria and Damian are giggling. Callista then caught her eye, her face was twisted with rage, as she watched her youngest antisocial sister become the star of the ball. Twirling her around, Lawrence then leads her off the dance floor and towards her parents. 

“Mr. Grayson, I wish to speak with you.” Lawrence could not stand the thought of having his wallflower anywhere but safely tucked away at his estate. Possessive emotions welled inside his heart as he steeled himself to do what must be done. Phoebe walks towards Aria and Damian as I converse with her Father.

“Phoebe! You were so cool, I bet you’re glad to have come after all.” smirks Aria.

“And you? What’s going on between you and Damian?” retorts Phoebe.

“We’re engaged, he asked for my hand in marriage. He’s the second best man in all of England after all, I’d be crazy to decline. Plus, we get along so well.” Aria practically sings the good news.

“Phoebe, come over here.” Robert Grayson calls his daughter over to possibly make the most important choice of her life.

“Yes Father?”

“Lawrence here has asked for your hand in marriage.” gasps are audibly heard all over the ballroom. The cold, stoic Lawrence has asked for a lady’s hand in marriage, this was the biggest news ever. “What do you say?”

“I do.”