-----------------------------------------------------
She ran her gloved hand through her perfectly styled blonde hair, though it didn't require fixing.
She took a steadying breath. Today was the afternoon she would meet the Ashwicks. Her knee bounced beneath the folds of her gown, clearly anxious,
" Stop it, Irene," the lady's maid whispered in her ear.
"You are not some stable boy begging for supper. Sit like a lady should."
"Oh yes, I apologise. I was lost in thought." Irene said softly, straightening her posture and putting her hands on her lap, gently clutching her gown.
She tilted her chin, eyes staring upward at the crystal clear sky. A gentle breeze stirred the garden, carrying the scent of the blooming flowers past her powdered nose.
Irene removed her hands from her lap to grip the wooden bench beneath her.. It felt oddly comfortable, perhaps from the leather padding or due to the overwhelming amount of layers she had worn.
The fabric of her gown straightened as she abruptly stood up, treading towards the Gazebo's wooden pillar. Her hand slowly found her stomach, gripping it tightly before she exhaled.
Her knuckles beneath her glove turned white from her hold on the pillar. Suddenly, someone gripped her arm, snapping her back to reality. Her maids voice bit through,
" Irene, you mustn't be restless." Her grip on her arm tightened.
" Go sit where you were before, would you like to greet the Duke like this?"
Her voice was bitter, as if Irene wasn't just simply standing but doing something completely atrocious.
Irene remained compliant, slowly nodding her head before heading back to the wooden bench and sitting down. She was nearly numb to the dull ache in her shoulder
" Good girl," said the maid curtly, stepping back to her position behind Irene, as her loyal servant…