Chapter 1: Scandalous Lady

Tarly and Gino were banging heads with the headstrong, obstreperous media trying to break through the duke’s house early in the morning. The head matron immediately runs to the master’s bedroom to notify the sleeping duke and his second wife about the unexpected ruckus outside.

Upon hearing the thrice knocks on the door, Duchess Chandler pulls the string on her side, ringing the small metal bell connected outside.

Sussana got her cue to gingerly turn the doorknob and reveal herself to the masters. Catching her breath, she held on her rather shabby skirt for strength. The years must have weaken her knees and youthful vigor. Gone are the old days.

“I am afraid to start your day my lord, my lady, in such a atrocious way but, there was a throng of reporters gathered in the main gate,” the head matron in her fifty’s struggled to report everything in the best accuracy she could muster.

Surprise was not already part of the duke’s reaction. Plainly, dismay and irritation. His eyebrows remains calm, contradicting to the burning temperament inside him, but he hid it excellently. London society taught him well on masking up emotions above anything else.

“What could have been the matter this time?” the impatient duchess asked the matron.

“It was about Lady Francesca—” poor Sussana was cut short with the perverse assault of the duke’s short-tempered duchess.

“Heavens Sussana! I already know the who about of the trouble outside. What I’m asking you is the what about of the matter? Such a trifling difference between elites and commoners.”

“Careful Carlotta, you must not to look down on my people.” Duke Landon Chandler was noble enough to remind his second wife’s unstoppable tongue. “Tell me about it,” he said eyeing the matron

She regains her confidence from the duke’s compassionate words and continued. “Lady Francesca just got involve in the disdaining affront towards a retiring baronet widow in Colstalbay, rumored for giving highly offensive remarks on her two-decades old wedding gown.

“Now the media wants to get on her side and discern more to be able to draft the best scoop they could get.” The head matron was surprisingly good at grasping event, the duke silently thought.

“You see Carlotta, Sussana’s capacity was way better than the stupid commoner you had in mind.” The duchess just grimaced in surrender.

Turning once more to the matron, the duke ordered. “Go on and bring that insolent little girl in the sitting room. She’ll be getting a lot lectures for today.”

Expressing her respect through a polite slight bow, Sussana proceeded to the stonewalled murals leading to the exquisitely designed lady’s room. Throwing a three times knocks, she gently inserted the key in the hole and opens the wooden door, moving aside the cascading brocade hangs at the topmost door frame.

The young lady was quite a heavy sleeper that the head matron have to secure herself her own key in order to wake her up, in case she oversleep again.

Laying there was a slim, hourglass lady in nightgown with her auburn hair unevenly spread all over the soft Victorian queen-sized bed. Her pale complexion blends perfectly fit with the cotton white color of her pillows, blankets, and bedsheets. With her eyes close, the long naturally, curly lashes remains very noticeable. Her lips was nowhere far from a ripe cherry in cold seasons, nor was her high cheekbones in the unique cherry blossom of South Korea. The proud bridge of her nose also didn’t fail to replicate the royal bloodline of her birth.

“My lady, it’s time for you to rise and shine.” Sussana tries to go easy at first, but no signs of Francesca awaking, leaving her no choice but to resort on the last way. She rings the bell beside the sleeping Greek goddess in a dirt body.

“Argh! Stop the bell boo-boo now! The lady is sleeping!” Francesca hissed in so much irritation, forgetting any sense of ladyship she learned. If she could choose one thing in the world to never get disturb with, she would absolutely choose this.

Determined with her actions, Sussana, instead of stopping, continued shaking the handheld metal bell placed right next the lady’s bedside. “Pardon me my lady, but your father need you in the sitting room now,” she explained.

Withstanding the annoying clashing metal sounds no more, Francesca stomps on her feet and stood up. Perhaps, the news of my unladylike remarks on the old rags, gown rather, of that widow from yesterday was all over the headlines now, she thought.

By then, her maid Joan appears on the doorstep to take charge of her mistress. “My apology for being informed late. You may leave Lady Francesca on my care now.”

“No problem Joan. Just make sure to groom her properly and usher her to the sitting room. Her father demands of her presence.” Sussana instructed Joan before leaving. She got something else to do as the head matron. And it was really Joana, who was in charge of the young lady’s needs.

***

After what seems to be eternity, Lady Francesca was done with her layered gowns and corsets. Her hair was now also pulled up in a neat bun, at least neat enough to reduce her father’s temperament on her.

She had learned from her maid, the media was banging at their doors, and his father was not a bit impressed with it. If that was the only way to be sitting with him face to face, why not right? She thought to herself.

“Mind explaining the yet another scandal you’ve got into after the patroness dancing scandal you’ve been a week ago, if I am not mistaken.” The duke was in no doubt fuming in anger with his mouth tightly twitch. How could her only daughter behave recklessly on the critical society of theirs?

“The widow Countess Margaret’s wedding gown was no better than an old rag. And I was simply stating the obvious father,” Lady Francesca idly answered.

“How can I be called out scandalous when I’m stating with utmost integrity. It doesn’t do me justice having my honesty labeled inappropriate for the countess just because she’s offended?”

Both the duke and duchess were amazed on her wits and spirit, though on an obvious sideway.

“You’re a smart kid, definitely. But that ain’t anything. You should know where to use that providence. Don’t use it for reasoning out a mistake,” her stepmother shammed.

“You’re mother was right Francesca. You should listen to her,” the duke supported, which just infuriates her daughter.

I would never consider that wicked, double-faced coin my mom ever because she was nowhere near the class and prestige of my now gone mother, Francesca thought.

Before even getting herself more infuriated…Before sanity leaves her be, she marches off towards the open door of the sitting room. When will her father realize what a plaque he brought home?

She wouldn’t definitely live harmoniously with her father, not unless he sends away his second wife.