Tuesday, July 8, 2014

Green Thumbs-1773


Georgiana held her sister’s hand tightly as they walked the moonlight path in the back of their garden. A cool spring breeze blew through Williamsburg, and Georgiana could feel Alice moving closer for warmth. Clad only in her shift and a thin shawl, she could understand her sister’s discomfort. Gently, she placed her arm around her sister’s slight shoulders. Alice was small for her age, and at thirteen, looked more like a child of eleven, that and her shift made her look like a little ghost, hovering over the garden. Alice looked up at her elder sister, and Georgiana could see the moon reflected in her dark brown eyes.
“Are we leaving the garden tonight?” Alice asked, looking longingly towards their gate.
“No pumpkin we cannot. Father and Mother told us to stay right here. Besides, it is a cool night. We wouldn’t want to venture to far.”
Alice looked down at the ground. She loved the sun more than anything, but their parents would never let her be seen outside during the day. Georgiana’s heart ached as she walked her sister around the garden.
“You need not be sad Alice!” She exclaimed trying to distract her sister from her melancholy. “Look dear, I think some of your flowers are blooming.” Alice let out a squeal of delight, and ran over to her corner of the garden. One of the few pleasers the child was allowed was to plant her own garden every spring. Alice crouched down so that her blonde hair fell past her shoulders, reflecting the moon light just as her eyes had.
“Oh Georgie! The lavender is blooming!” Her voice was filled with enchantment, as if it gave her no more pleaser in the world than seeing those delicate little flowers blooming.
“I planted a purple garden this year Georgie! Maybe some other flowers will grow!” Georgiana found it hard to contain her smile. Everything about Alice was charming and endearing, and she was Georgiana’s treasure.
“I am sure your other plants will grow. You have a gift.”
“Mama said I have a green thumb! Isn’t that silly Georgie?”
“Well let me see your thumbs.” Georgiana said. Alice smiled all the way to her eyes. She thrust her two hands forward for Georgiana to examine. To play along, Georgiana bit her lip and hemmed and hawed, trying to sound like the apothecary who came once a week to examine Alice. Her sister giggled.
“Ahaha!” Georgiana exclaimed.
“What Georgie?” Alice asked, her brown eyes wide.
“Your thumbs are green!”
“Where? I cannot see…” Alice said softly.
Georgiana took her sister’s hands and kissed her thumbs “There, and there, and there.” She said each time she planted a kiss on her sister’s fingers. Alice almost shrieked from delight. Georgiana loved hearing her sister’s laugh. Alice was simple, and sweet, something that their parents didn’t seem to understand. That their youngest was unbalanced caused Mr. and Mrs. Middleton a great deal of shame, and they scarcely allowed her out in society. Georgiana took it upon herself to bring joy to the child whenever she could. So she encouraged her sister’s laughter more by tickling her tummy. Both of them dissolved with laughter.
“What is this?” And their father’s booming voice echoed across the night. Alice leaped up and scurried off behind the magnolia tree. Georgiana, still on the ground, looked up to find her father standing over her.
A tall man, Mr. Middleton was intimidating to look at. As a lawyer and member of the House of Burgesses in Virginia, he was not a man to be trifled with.
“Father, we were just walking…” Georgiana said as she got to her feet.
“Were you planning on waking all of Williamsburg with that rabble?” He said is a soft, but harsh tone that made Georgiana want to run behind the tree, even at the age of twenty. She bowed her head and looked at the earth, not wanting to meet her father’s eyes.
“Get your sister and come inside immediately.” 
“Aye, Father.” Georgiana said, dipping into a small courtesy as he left the garden into the house.
It took a moment to coax Alice out from behind the tree, but soon they were walking back towards the house.
“Tomorrow night we must be quieter, Alice. Do you understand? We don’t want Father to be upset. Besides, if you are good you might get to come to the ball.”
Alice looked up at Georgiana, tears rising in her wide, brown eyes.
“Papa will never let me go to the ball.”
Georgiana sighed. There was some truth in that. But perhaps if she worked with Alice, taught her the courtesies and customs and perhaps a few dances, then maybe father would let the child out.
“Well we shall just have to teach you some dances then.” Georgiana said, putting her arm around her sister again. Alice sniffled in reply and buried her head into her sister’s side. Georgiana stopped walking and held Alice close. She didn’t care what her father and mother thought. She would make sure Alice went to the ball. Her sister needed wings, and Georgiana wanted more than anything to give them to her. She kissed Alice’s soft blond head, and together the sisters headed towards the house. 

Romance lost and found

Charlotte was mad at herself.  She had promised herself, sworn up and down- no more love stories.  None.  Not even a tale of passing attraction turned tragic loss- she was through.  She was nearly twenty and four now and much too mature of an adult to amuse herself in this manner- no she would write things of scholarly import and business- her father always said to leave love to the satirists and the French, and it was about time she should do so. But then, oh then she had met the shoemaker's son at a Country Dance, and now she found herself beneath her favorite old catalpa tree- long green pods dangling above her head and her journal upon her knee.  Looking back at the five pages of pencil scrawl she was both pleased and upset with herself- the wild romance had all of her usual flair and dramatics, exactly what she had promised herself she was to avoid.
"Oh Charlotte Turner, grow UP!"  But even as the words escaped her lips she smiled.  Yes, Papa would much rather she wrote treatises on nature or local politics, but even he had to admit that it was romance that kept his paper alive.  Poems and anecdotes from European journals that her carefully copied and typeset, and local creations made to satire the news of the small city.  Yes, even Williamsburg had romance, and some of the scandals would make even Parisian ladies turn pink- Charlotte was sure of it.
  But this journal, this was just for her.  Charlotte had started keeping a journal as soon as she could write, she was lucky that her father had encouraged her education.  He had no sons, and it stood to reason that she and her future husband should inherit her father's printing business when he retired. If I ever find a husband, that is.  At twenty four, she was certainly not an old maid- but it seemed that most of the girls she had grown up with were already settling down.  And not one prospect yet- well, there was one once, but it didn't bear thinking about.
But now, ahh now she had a daydream again.  Brilliant eyes that sparkled as they turned by the right, and then left- not leaving her face even when they made long lines to travel down the hall and back again.  She had felt herself blush and even now a pink tinge came to her cheeks.  How was it, that she could grow up in the same town as him and never notice until now?  And how much more difficult it was to arrange a chance meeting now that it was her goal, why just last week she had seen him at the market and had barely even noticed.
Well, at the very least she was now determined to attend the assembly in honor of the governor's wife's arrival.  Though it was sure to be less fine than the grand ball at the Governor's Palace, the shoemaker's son would perhaps be there.  Smiling at nothing in particular, Charlotte re-read her last sentence.
"The Admiral with brilliant blue eyes gazed into the brown eyes of Bess, and he knew in a minute that she was the maid for him.
Romance, it seemed, was in her blood whether she would will it there or not.