Author's note: This story is part of a larger work I'm working on called The Ashton Heights Affair. It is set during an alternate history of our world where Napoleon had taken over the entire world.
Prelude to the Ashton Heights Affair
On a warm, summer evening, a carriage arrived at the Chateau du Sinclair located in the mountain regions. Ms. Cynthia Dupuis stepped out of the carriage and almost tripped onto the gravel, cursing herself for her clumsiness. She was already late to the soiree which is unthinkable for gossip columnist. She thought about shorting the driver but, she knew she was lucky just to find a driver available. All the other drivers were paid 5 times the regular amount that she could pay simply because the royalty could afford it and they wanted to show off like peacocks, which was her bread and butter,of course.
Cynthia stood up and put her most winning smile as she approached the large, wooden doors of the estate, trying not to sweat. She was getting warm in her elegent hoop dress, but her stomach was already trembling. The two guards stood on either side, still and silent and impassive, while the sgt at arms, took a look at her invitation, glanced at her face, through some bushy eyebrows. She continued to smile at him as if nothing at all was wrong and allowed her in without a word.
She breathed a sigh of relief walking the brightly lit atrium anda made her way to the main ballroom taking note of everyone there.
Lady Beaumont was circling the room, her peacock feathered fan hiding some of her face. Lady Beaumont was always at any social gathering, trying to improve her social circle. At age 45, she did well but her long face had lines that indicated fatigue.
Cynthia shook her head and navigated her way through the teeming crowd, listening to every word that she could glean.
"Oh my, here's the town tattler!", people said as Cynthia passed them. Then there was the soft giggle amongst the others as they made further comments like “dirt digger” and “nosy Nancy”.
She heard that a lot and usually, the words were followed by some resentful comment about her profession in general. She ignored all of this and simply waited. People couldn't help but talk and Cynthia was exceptionally good and listening. Before to long, there was usually some juicy gossip that could be made into a story. All she had to do was wait.
Lord Earnshaw of Ashton Heights had just arrived with a girl in tow. Lord Earnshaw was the heir apparent to the Colonial region of Saint Martens. With his light brown, wavy locks, and angular face, Cynthia understood why so many girls flocked right to him like moths to a flame. He was drop dead gorgeous as well as being in a high position.
Not much was known of him other than he tended to go on dates on a regular basis. Most of the children of the colonial Baron's went to school here or in London. Cynthia was sure he was a Londoner by the uniform.
Across the room,. Cynthia noticed people staring at the girl he had brought with him. She was an Oriental girl wearing a simple Qipao. The others women in the room whispered to each other and their faces had disgust written all over them.
" How dare she come here? This is a place for royalty not dirty servants!"
"The young Lord is insulting us and the Emporer himself by bringing her here as his date. My God, he could have anyone in the country why her?"
Cynthia was curious as well about her and she decided to observe the girl for awhile. After all if she caused this much of a stir, she had to be interesting.
The girl left the Lord's side and walked around the room by herself. Her dark eyes took in her surroundings. The way she moved around the room really spoke volumes to Cynthia. This girl is not some random date. She is hunting? A bodyguard perhaps? She was so small. How could she protect him? Did this mean that his Lordship's life was in danger?
Cynthia thought about this for a moment. There could be a power struggle in the works. The elder Baron ruled over the territory with an iron fist, but he did have some rivals. One such rival was Baron Prascia of the Southern region. He was an older man and rumors had it that he was a lecherous man and he had a massive spy network capable of wreaking havoc across the empire.
Another rumor about Baron Prascia, also known as the Southern Baron, is that a woman actually tried to kill him during a “tryst” but he pushed her out the third story window of the castle. The Southern Baron often had designs on having more territory.
Cynthia knew though it was dangerous to go too far with an investigation into this line of thought. Gossip columnists were tolerated in the empire as long as the image of the ruling class was never maligned. It's okay to talk about the people in the periphery, their clothing etc. It was a good distraction for the people.
If you got too close to the power, it meant danger and even death.
Cynthia knew all of this but for her this possible story was just too good to pass up.
The music changed to a Waltz at which point, everyone was eagerly looking for a partner except for Lord Earnshaw. The Oriental girl came back to his side began to dance.
The crowd seemed to part ways for the Lord and his partner, but the ladies all stared at her aghast as if to say “so she thinks she is better than us?”
The two of them danced the waltz in front of everyone, totally ignoring the army of eyes that would kill if they could.
Whispers went all around the ballroom leaving all other conversations to fall by the wayside. The gossip was now all about the Oriental consort of Lord Earnshaw of Ashton Heights, who seemed to command attention for their very presence here. Some of the young ladies threw their corsages on the floor in disgust and promptly left the ballroom.
The others remained in the ballroom, not wanting to draw attention to themselves.
After the waltz had ended a member of the staff approached the Oriental girl with a silver platter that held a telegram. She looked the envelope, bowed to the waiter and walked quickly to Lord Earnshaw.
The Lord took the envelope and opened it and after a few minutes, all the color drained from his face as the envelope dropped to the floor.
Everyone turned all at once to look at his Lordship as he turned and promptly left the ballroom, the girl following behind him after she picked up the telegram from the floor.
Cynthia knew that she had a story for the books so that night she determined that she would tail them wherever they went to get it no matter how dangerous it was.
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6 comments
Loved the details you used in this. Lovely ! I'm going to assume you got some of the names from French, which I happen to speak. A bit of correction, if you don't mind ? Dupui - I think you mean "Dupuis" ? Mon serre - I'm actually not sure with this one. But "serre" is a feminine word in French, so it would be impossible to use it with "mon" (which is the masculine form of the word for "my"). It's either Mont Serre (which is kind of redundant, but then Lac Beaulac exists. Hahahaha !) or Ma Serre. Anyway, linguistics rambling over. Hahah...
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Thanks! I was guessing on the French, although Dupuis is a family name that was changed to Peay some eons ago
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Made some changes to the names. Thanks!
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You described it so well that I felt like I was there in those moments. Splendid job.
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Thank you!
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Incidentally,.one of the secondary characters is based on a character from Puccini's Tosca. The Baron Prascia is basically like Baron Scarpia in the opera.
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