Memory of Morning

by Susan Sizemore

  "Thank you, Mr. Vine." Seeli spoke for us. "What can you tell us about your ball gown designs?"

  "I can tell you that ball gowns are difficult, the most difficult designs of all. Because Season ball gowns cannot be white, but they cannot be any other color, either. It is difficult to make every woman look uniquely beautiful and memorable when all I have to work with is shades of beige." He smiled. "You are here because it is well known that I am more than equal to the task."

  I expected him to tell us about materials and start taking measurements, but instead he asked us questions one at a time, starting with young Rhane, and took notes about many aspects of our lives, about our plans; all sorts of things. I rather liked this approach to dress design.

  By the time he turned his attention to me I had made up my mind to trust him. I answered his questions for a while before I said, "Excuse me." I pulled up the right sleeve of my dress, revealing the scar just below the shoulder.

  Belladem and Seeli had both seen and been told about the scar, but Rhane gasped at the sight. I gave her a sharp look. "Don't you dare talk about this. Father would faint if he knew."

  "Megere was wounded in battle," Seeli told the girl. "You should be proud of her."

  I blushed. I looked at the designer.

  He glanced at the scar, then looked me steadily in the eyes. "You should show that as a badge of honor," he said.

  I had no intention of doing anything of the sort. "I do not wish to look old-fashioned by wearing a ball gown with sleeves, Mr. Vine. Is it possible for you to make a fashionable gown that will still conceal this?" I pulled my sleeve down now that the point had been made.

  He gazed at the ceiling for a bit, tapping a forefinger against his lips. "A challenge," he said, looking back at me. "Thank you, Dr. Cliff. I truly do enjoy a challenge."

  His attitude was most satisfying. "I am certain you will rise to it, Mr. Vine."

  That evening, I finally was able to wear my black lace evening dress. I was delighted to have the chance to get into it once before it had to be folded away during the next few months where only pale was proper. But as much as I enjoyed the chance to show off the frock, I must say I did not much enjoy the evening's entertainment. The company that made up our party was certainly pleasant - this included Seeli and myself, along with cousin Abethe, who is Uncle Eadum's acknowledged daughter. We were all surprised that Abethe had been persuaded to leave her farm to join our frivolity, but were very happy to see her. There was also Tennit and Rassi, as well as Belladem and her beloved Dwie.

  Having finally met Dwie Kestrel I must say I could understand why Bell was so very fond of him. The more I saw of him, the better I liked him. He is a tall, attractive fellow, even if his hair is thinning a bit prematurely at the sides of his forehead. Of course his manners are perfect, and he has a quick wit along with a delightful speaking voice. Most importantly and sweetly, he is a very caring individual. His profession involves enforcing laws, solving crimes, protecting the peace and somehow he manages to turn this potentially dangerous occupation into a means to help people. I believe that the moment the man meets a person he puts them under his protection.

  For the evening's entertainment, we chose to attend a reading by an author whose fictional work was currently popular. Personally, I spent two hours with my teeth held tightly together in the effort not to shout out how dull and banal I thought the book to be.

  The man did have a talent for reading, even if he had none for writing. And he was quite pleasant looking, so gazing upon him as he droned away at the lectern was some consolation. There were quite a few adoringly staring young ladies in the audience who I was sure attended only to see the author.

  What was the story about? Feuding families and a shipwrecked prince. There were abductions, rescues, ransoms, a fair amount of sex - it should have been brilliant and exciting.

  I kept thinking, my novel is better than that.

  We applauded briefly for politeness sake at the end, and made for the exit rather than the lectern where the author was being surrounded by admiring young women. My family waited until we were crowded nearly to the roof of the Cliff coach before the teasing began.

  "That should have been you up there, Megere," Tennit said. "You couldn't have done any worse."

  "She actually groaned once," Seeli, who had been seated beside me, said. "Not that I blame you, Meg."

  "I cannot imagine our third twin writing the erotic parts," Bell said. "Since she--"

  "Is a doctor with a very detailed knowledge of anatomy," I cut her off. And a vivid imagination, I added to myself. I've seen more naked men than you have, Belladem Cliff, and not all of them were bleeding.

  "Perhaps. But that is not the same as--"

  "Hush, Bell."

  "Isn't one supposed to write what one knows?" Tennit asked.

  "You told him!" I accused Belladem.

  "Twins keep nothing from each other," she answered, all prim and smug.

  "And I am your personal physician, Megere," Tennit added.

  "Since when, you, you - marine."

  "Insult me, will you? You, you novelist!"

  "That's what the man we were listening to is, yes? He's a novelist and he read his novel, that's what it said on the program." Rassi said. "And a novelist is someone who makes up stories without gods or history in them. My mum claims novels are evil, but his story was just bad. Why are you calling your sister a novelist, Tenn?"

  "It is not an insult," Abethe spoke up. "Novel writing is an art form, like painting or music. Albeit a recent one. Megere studied the art of writing fiction at university."

  "So did you," I reminded her. "We both took classes with Professor Diamond. He has written several brilliant novels himself."

  "My interest is in the concepts, not in the application, but our Megere has always wanted to write a novel."

  In the dimness of the coach's interior I could still tell that everyone’s gaze was on me.

  "I wrote a novel while I was on the Moonrunner," I said. "It is about an able seaman's adventures."

  There was a moment of silence while I flinched apprehensively. No one laughed.

  "Can I read it?" just about everyone asked at once.

  I was stunned. Being vain, I was also flattered. I was also hesitant. "Um. Perhaps," I said. I recalled the condition of the manuscript in the worn red leather journal. "I need to copy it cleanly, make a few improvements."

  "Do you fear your story will compare unfavorably to tonight's reading?" Dwie asked.

  "All, no!" I answered immediately.

  "Then do not be afraid to share your tale with anyone," Dwie said.

  "You have never feared anything," Bell said.

  "I fear having my vanity pricked," I said. "But, all right, I will hand over a clean copy of Darnin Clover as soon as I may."

  Chapter Nineteen

  I had planned on going straight to bed upon returning to the house. Instead, the butler told us we were all expected in the green parlor after our shawls and jackets were taken from us. A great many puzzled looks were exchanged, but we did as we were requested rather than question the butler.

  All of the "grown-ups" waited in the parlor: Father and Mother, Uncle Charle and Aunt Gwin, Aunt Edime and Uncle Nors Cliff, cousin Corle and her husband, and of course, Uncle Eadum.

  We "youngsters" all exchanged looks again. It was obvious that we were in trouble from the serious looks our parents turned on us. I was not the only one of us who shrugged.

  The head of the Cliff family stood with his back to the mantel, his hands clasped behind him. Everyone but Rassi and Dwie recognized the seriousness of the head of the Cliff family's mood. I glanced at Uncle Charle, but it was Aunt Gwin who looked furious.

  We were not invited to sit. So, there we stood, seven responsible, professional adults, being made to feel like naughty children deserving a parental lecture.

  "Where have you been?" Uncle Eadum asked.

  "We know exactly where you have been," Aunt Gwin sa
id. She looked specifically at me. "Have we not discussed this already?"

  "I- What?"

  "You organized an outing to a radical entertainment, Megere," Uncle Eadum said.

  I looked around at siblings, cousins, and in-laws. They all looked as puzzled as I felt.

  It was Dwie who faced Uncle Eadum. "Could you please be more specific, sir? You seem to be making an accusation without any foundation in fact."

  "You attended a novel reading," Aunt Gwin said. "That is not the sort of thing proper people do in Loudon. You risk establishing yourselves as part of a fast, loose crowd. That will not do."

  "Thought so," Rassi whispered to Tennit.

  "But novel readings are commonplace in Avan," I said. "Or they were when last I was home."

  "What is done in a hotbed of radicalism is not sanctioned by the elite of Loudon," Aunt Gwin said.

  "Loudon society is very traditional," Uncle Eadum said. "We do not wish to offend the sensibilities of those we will be socializing with in coming weeks."

  "If we get the chance to socialize," cousin Corle said. "There will be no invitations from the right people if rumors start circulating about book readings and attending plays. Fiction will not be tolerated."

  "My children are not intellectuals," Aunt Gwin said. "I will not risk their chances of making advantageous marriages because you Cliffs haven't the good sense to be frivolous."

  "It is only for a few weeks," Mother said.

  "You will conform to Loudon conventions," Uncle Eadum said.

  "Or we can go home?" Abethe asked hopefully.

  Uncle Eadum gave his daughter a long, withering look. After a few seconds her gaze dropped to the floor and she gave him a curtsy.

  "You will not have anything to do with fictional or scientific presentations," Aunt Gwin said.

  "Except in the privacy of this house," Uncle Eadum said. "We aren't asking you go give up your interests, only to conform to Loudon custom during the Season."

  He wanted his knighthood. And he wanted what was best for every member of the family. I wanted to go to bed.

  "I am sorry, sir," I said. "I was thoughtless and forgetful. It won't happen again."

  "It certainly will not." Aunt Gwin held up a circular. "I have marked every appropriate event for the rest of this month. By the time next month's circular is issued you shall all be inundated with too many invitations to worry about public entertainments."

  "Thank you," I said.

  I could feel Abethe quivering with fury beside me. Dwie looked like he was about to say something. Bell touched his arm and him gave a pleading look.

  Rassi put her hand on her abdomen. "The baby's kicking up a storm," she said. "I really must get off my feet."

  "Excuse us," Tennit said, and immediately guided his pregnant wife from the green parlor.

  The rest of us took this as our cue to follow them.

  Once we got to the front hall, Abethe said to me, "How could you be so submissive in there? So apologetic? All right, I did not argue with my father in public, but you - groveled."

  "I did indeed." I chuckled. I felt no shame or burn of indignation. "I learned to say ‘yes, sir’ and ‘no, sir’ on the Moonrunner. You don't have to mean it, you just have to do it convincingly. Have you ever seen anyone flogged for insubordination?" I asked. "Keep a vision of a whip taking the skin off someone's back in your head while addressing your betters and you can say any fool thing you need to say."

  Abethe shook her head. "How am I supposed to sleep now that I have that vision in my head?"

  "Oh, dear. I'm sorry." I was used to violence, my cousin was used to a quiet life.

  "That's all right," she said as she started up the sweeping staircase. "We slaughtered several pigs before I left home. I wonder how the sausage making is coming along?"

  I suppose a quiet life can also be a bloody one. I now hoped my night wouldn't be haunted by dreams of death squeals and pig’s blood.

  "However will I be able to eat bacon in the morning?" I called after Abethe. And followed her laughter up the stairs.

  Seeli was seated on her bed reading a book when I entered. "Novel?" I asked.

  "Of course."

  "I think I shall do the same." I had planned to go to bed, but instead took out the red leather journal, found some sheets of blank paper, and began to work on a fresh copy of my book.

  Chapter Twenty

  The next day was Songday and the entire household trooped off to First Temple for the earliest ceremony of the day. Nothing could be more proper or conventional. Cousin Corle kept congratulating us for being good, obedient children when going to temple on Songday was as habitual as breathing for all of us. Oh, well, she is a sickly woman and generally well-meaning, if a bit sour-tempered. Bell would be singing at the evening service, so I thought I might return for her performance. I used the morning service to actually worship. I was in need of centering and contemplation and the sacred songs helped take me to a place of calm and devotion.

  I thanked the All for helping me put my thoughts in order and left the temple to run an errand. Abethe came with me.

  "Why are we off to the print shop?" she asked after we'd hailed a horsecab and were alone. "Do you need a ream of paper to start a new novel?"

  "I do want some foolscap, but my main mission is to correct this." I took a new calling card out of my reticule. Aunt Gwin had presented all of us with a small box of beautiful cards on cream stock to be presented at social calls, printed with our names and our address in Loudon.

  "It reads Miss Megere Cliff," Abethe read. "Oh, dear. How did your Aunt Gwin think she could get away with that, Doctor Cliff?"

  "Don't be cynical, cousin. Well, not too cynical, as skepticism is in your nature. I believe her when she says it is a printing error. There are quite a few Miss Cliffs in the bridal stable, after all. Still, I intend to have the mistake rectified before Presentation Day."

  Abethe gave a mock shudder - at least I think it was meant to be humorous.

  "I still have some hopes that this will turn out to be entertaining," I said. "It has been so long since society has done anything like this that I thought it would be wonderful. It probably will be when the entertainments officially start."

  "Stay hopeful, cousin," Abethe said. "While you walk into the marriage trap the older generations have set for you."

  "It's not a trap if you want to get married. Which I do."

  "Not I. Not anymore."

  Abethe grew up in love with Nath Scarp. They'd been formally betrothed when they were both sixteen. No one had questioned that they were right for each other and would be together forever. The war with Framin took Nath from her in a sea battle fought within sight of Cliff and Scarp lands on the southeast coast. I remember the sounds and smoke from the cannon fire as we stood at the top of our shining white cliffs and peered out at the water. I remember ships ablaze and sinking. I remember Uncle Eadum holding Abethe's hand and how white her face was with fear for her beloved. I remember that she fainted when word came that his body was among those washed up on the shore.

  Abethe retreated into grief and the solitude of the farm she and Nath had purchased before he went to sea.

  I had been glad as well as surprised to see her among our Presentation troop when I arrived in Loudon. But in a way, it was silly for the likes of us to play at being girls.

  "I begin to see that you did not volunteer to be here," I said now.

  "By the goddess of grief, no. Father ordered me to take part in the exercise. He is concerned for me. He knows I have no plans to marry, but he feels he must make the effort on my behalf."

  "You must have children," I reminded her.

  "I know. The Cliff bloodline is too precious not to pass on. I'm perfectly happy to have a child, but no husband. My parents aren't married and they have done very well up 'til now. Although I don't even want what they have. I am sure some gentleman and I can make an accommodation."

  "But your parents are the happiest couple I kno
w. They make my doting parents appear standoffish toward each other."

  "I suppose you have noticed that Mother is not among the gay crowd of elders in Loudon. That is not Mother's choice. Your Uncle Charle is trying to talk Father into marrying again. Father says he has no intention of seeking a noble bride, but Mother says it is all right, and has moved into my house with me. I do not want my mother living with me," she added.

  After Uncle Eadum's wife died, he had hired Lise Hay as governess for his young twin sons. She and Uncle Eadum raised the boys, became lovers and had a child of their own. The sons were grown now, one lived in the Cliff family colony on one of the New Islands. The other was in charge of the family forestry interests. Both were married, and fathers themselves. Uncle Eadum did not need more heirs. I did not like the thought of his perhaps shopping for a better-connected bride for himself, and hoped he wasn't. It was neither Abethe's or my place to be outraged about it. So we spoke no more on this subject as the horsecab brought us to our destination.

  There was a picnic in the rear garden when we arrived back at our rental palace. Songday was a free day for most of the servants so we helped ourselves to baskets of cold food, ate with our fingers, and enjoyed each other's company. A game of Wicket started, and people played cards. I found out that Mother had gone with Rassi and Tennit to pay a call on Rassi's mother in East Loudon. The day wore on pleasantly. I won at cards until I was accused of being a professional gambler and requested to take up Wicket for a bit of exercise.

  Father and Uncle Eadum were standing under a tree, drinking wine and talking. They gestured me over as I headed for the Wicket players. They lifted their glasses in a toast as I joined them.