Augusta Dowding
"AUGUSTA PRISCILLA DOWDING!" Roared Augusta's uncle from the bottom of the staircase. It was not a call the young woman was unfamiliar with. At this point it was routine and she was very aware of his reasoning for being furious with her, "so absolutely furious and disappointed" as he would so often tell her. And when he said so, his face was red and twisted. Sometimes she wondered if steam would come out of his ears like in the drawn cartoons she had seen in the papers.
Well, there was no time like the present to check. One of these days it would have to become a reality. She rushed over to the staircase, looking over the railing and at her uncle at the bottom of the stairs. "Yes, uncle?" she answered sweetly. She knew how it bothered him so when she played dumb. But it was part of the act, their little show that played every few weeks. He started it first and she followed his lead.
"Augusta I am furious! Absolutely furious!"
As he spoke, silently she moved her lips, reciting his lines in sync with him. When she had gotten every word right, she was hardly able to keep the smirk off her face as paced the floors angrily, waving papers in his hand. Papers she could only assume were the source of his outburst.
"You have embarrassed our family once again!" He threw his fist in her direction.
"Uncle," Augusta said, slowly descending the stairs to meet him. "I don't understand. What have I done?"
He shoved the papers in her direction. Playing cautiously, she took them from his hands. It was a letter. She held the letter in front t of her face and began reading its contents out loud. "To the lord of the House, I am most grateful for your invitation to Dowding House, but I must inform you that I have no intention of marrying a woman as witch-like as your niece. A woman who laughs at a good man's courting and whose words are so ill and dishonorabl- oh please, all I did was tell him he was a no good fortune hunter." In the rudest way imaginable. And then laugh at any attempts he made to jab at her "flaws". These men were so easy. "I was rather tamed with this one. He is so horribly boring even his letters are! He's very whiny. I spared us both."
"Augusta! You can't say whatever you like to whomever you like! That is not the way of a lady!" Cried the man, clearly distressed. he knew his niece well enough. "You barked at the last gentleman before this one! If you keep this up there will be no respectable man in England who will marry you."
"Honestly, Uncle, if those are all the respectable men of England. I don't think I mind." That said, Augusta was done with the conversation. The scene could close now and to express as much, she handed the letter back to her uncle and began walking away.
"Augusta! I will have you married!" He called after her and she rolled her eyes. "It is what your father would have wanted."
At the mention of her father, whatever fun she was having with the debacle was over now. It was not fair of him to use the memory of the man against her. He frowned and quickened her pace to get away from him. She sought respite in the only place she knew she would find it. The garden.
Her father had built the space for her when she was barely able to walk. Building up stone walls and having every plant he could get his hands on plant. There were still trees that he had carved images into with her. And from one a swing still hung after all these years. The entire place was so beautiful Augusta was sure the birds that lived in it sang of it. They would surely write poetry of it if they could, but since she was the reader and writer, Augusta did that part herself.
She walked onto the grounds with bare feet and loose hair. It was as close as she could get to their Mother and Father Adam and Eve as fully going undressed was indecent. She may not show all the manners of the ladies, but she showed just enough to still be part of not just high society, but society in general. So she hopped from stone to stone, hitching up her dress to keep out of the way of her legs.
The young miss jumped onto the grassy floor with more enthusiasm than she had ever shown anywhere else and grinned. She should have had the servants prepare her a picnic basket so that she might enjoy the weather and her surroundings with food. If only she hadn't been so quick to escape her uncle and his nagging and ranting.
When she looked up, she noticed something was ... amiss. She couldn't quite put her tongue on it, but the garden was looking different. Less unruly, but more ... alive. Somehow. And then she noticed him.
"Who are you?" She quickly walked over to the stranger in
her garden. "What are you doing here?" Looking down at him, it was obvious to see he was working on the grounds. But she had certainly not authorized it. If she wasn't frowning before, she most certainly was now.
@wren.
