Getting A Propper Education

“We came to London so that Anna could get a proper education,” Martha looked down at her daughter with adoring eyes.  Anna’s brown curls had been pinned to the crown of her head and hung down her back.  A feathered hat was pinned on her head along with a jeweled hairpin. Her emerald silk dress sucked in her stomach and flowed down to her ankles.  Her small breasts were adorned with lace and beads.  

Martha made sure Anna was dressed in the best American fashions that money could buy with the railroad fortune Martha’s husband made. Although Martha said these twelve words again and again, “We came to London so that Anna could get a proper education,” both Anna and Martha knew that that was not the whole truth.

The Countess Marguerite of Mende who sat across from them, listened intently to Martha’s ramblings about the bustling new city of New York. Anna had heard it all before.  She even lived it.  She missed her friends back in New York where she had the freedom to do as she liked.  But here in Paris, she was confined to her schooling, her mother, and the various European aristocrats.  These aristocats did not have much in terms of money, but what they did have was status.  And it was this status that Martha was after. She was done being shunned by Mrs. Astor and this was her solution.

The education system in London that Martha often referred to was just as she called it, “a proper education.” Anna was taught to have good manners, about religion, and to sing and dance.  Her education back in New York, on the other hand, taught her to read and write, science and politics.  If she didn’t know that was in London to find an aristocratic husband who wanted her wealth, she would think her mother was silly for sending her here for an education.  

“Have you heard the news?” The Countess asked, taking a sip of tea from a floral porcelain cup.

“What news?” Martha smiled back at the Countess.

“My Louis is engaged to be married,” the Countess beamed.

“Married?” Martha asked, attempting to retain the smile on her face.

“Yes, this lovely girl from New York.  Perhaps you know her.  Minnie Fish?”

Martha nearly spit out her tea.  She did know Minnie Fish.  Or more like knew of her.  The Fish family were a family of steel moguls.  And Minnie’s mother had made it quite high in Mrs. Astor’s friend group.  This was the elite group that Martha had looked up to for ages.  Martha’s eyes grew green. 

“Well isn’t that nice,” Martha forced a smile.

Shortly after, Martha made the excuse that Anna was feeling unwell and pulled Anna out of the Countess’s home before Anna could ask questions or protest.

“Well, there goes another one,” Martha threw up her hands as she trudged down the street, with her daughter at her heels. She pivoted face to her daughter, “we have been trying for three seasons.  Three seasons! One! Just one. You just need one!  Is that too much to ask for?” Martha held up a finger in her daughter’s face.

“I… I….” Anna didn’t know what to say.

“I can help you,” a rickety voice came from against the wall.  The mother daughter pair looked up to see a woman dressed in rags.  She had yellowed teeth and milky eyes.  The skin around her eyes seemed to melt off her face. 

“What help do you think we need?” Martha asked.  Anna’s mouth dropped open.  She was not used to seeing such poverty.  And for sure was not used to her mother paying attention to anyone not of the upper class.   

“You are looking for a husband for your daughter here.  Are you not?” The woman gestured her rags toward Anna.  “But you are not looking for any husband. You are looking for an aristocratic husband.  You have fortune.  But your fortune is not the issue.  You want to status.  The kind of status only an Aristocrat can give you.  I can help.”

Martha stared at the women with such strong intensity.  Then she opened her mouth, “what do you propose?”

The old woman smiled and held out a small apothecary jar. “This!”

Martha’s stare intensified.  As she reached out to touch the bottle the woman snatched it back.

“And what is that?” Martha asked.

“A love potion.” The old woman showed her yellow teeth with a grin. “If your daughter drinks this potion right before a ball with an aristocrat of your liking, he will fall madly in love with her.  He will propose to her and you will finally have the status you have been looking for.”

Martha thought for a moment, “What will it cost me?”

“Let me see.  This is something you deeply desire.  So the price must match the desire.”  The old woman drummed her fingers together around the apothecary jar.  “I could ask for money.  I know that is something you have and something you can give.  But that is not what I desire most in the world.  What I really want is your daughter’s soul.  When she has died, I want her soul.”   

“Done!” Martha reached for the apothecary jar.

The old woman reached out her hand and snatched it back quickly, “Are you sure of this?  Once she takes the potion, her soul will be mine.”

“I don’t…” Anna started before her mother turned to her and gave her a stern look. 

“We understand,” Martha hoisted her fist back at the old woman, “now give it.”

Martha’s eyes grew large as she peered at the apothecary jar.  The liquid inside shined bright and her face lit up.

Later that evening, as Anna’s housemaids crowded around her, pinning up her hair, tightening her corset, and rouging her cheeks.  That evening the Duchess of Malfi was hosting her second ball of the season.  The last one the Duke of Kent was there and had caught Martha’s eye as a possible husband for Anna. 

A loud creak at the door announced Martha’s grand entrance into the quarters.

“May I have a moment of my daughter's time…  Alone.”  

Anna was perched up in front of the vanity.  She had been plucked and powdered and pulled tight per Martha’s request.  She nodded with approval at her daughter as the housemaids vacated the room.  

Martha heard the door close and glanced over her shoulder to verify that they were alone.  She produced the apothecary jar from her pocket with a huge grin on her face.

“Here my darling.  Drink up.”  Martha uncorked the apothecary jar and raised it up to Anna’s mouth.

“I don’t want to,” Anna protested.

“But it will make the Duke fall deeply in love with you.  Don’t you want that?  Don’t you want an aristocratic man to fall deeply in love with you?” She pleaded.

“How do you know it will work?” 

Martha paused and pulled the apothecary jar back, “I guess I don’t.  But what do we have to lose?”  

Anna was done fighting.  She was done with being a single woman in London, searching for a husband.  She was done with her mother breathing down her back to marry.  She wanted to find a husband and for her mother to go back to America and leave her alone.  

Anna grabbed the apothecary jar from her mother and swallowed the green liquid in a single gulp.  Anna was thrown forward with an expel of gas from her throat.  She smiled at her mother who smiled back with approval.

Martha stared at her daughter for a full sixty seconds, her smile fading as she watched.  She expected her daughter to change but she still looked the same.  “Very well.  We don’t want to be late.” Martha grabbed her tightened, tinted, and tinctured daughter by the hand and dragged her out to the carriage waiting for them outside.  They loaded into the carriage and were on their way to the Dutchess’ ball. 

“I don’t feel so good,” Anna clinched her stomach with both arms.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Martha looked away from her daughter, watching the streets run by.

Anna’s head felt foggy and her fingers tingled.  Her breasts began to swell as her breathing slowed.  Her face grew warm and her cheeks pink.

“Mother,” Anna pleaded, laying a hand on her mother’s arm. 

“Not now,” Martha waved her daughter away as she continued to watch the street out the small window, “we are almost there.”

The carriage came to a halt and the carriage door opened allowing the ladies to make their entrance at the mansion’s entrance.  Martha came out first.  She patted her gown and smoothed the feathers in her hat.  

When Anna didn’t follow behind her, she glanced back at the carriage.  Martha rolled her eyes and took a step closer to the open carriage door to get a better look at her daughter.  Then a scream left her lips.  What she found was not her daughter but a blue and green swollen case of her daughter spilling out of a ruby red satin dress.  Anna’s breath had ceased and her soul floated above her body and out into the cold London night.