There is not a lot in this world that can make Miss Laura Jane speechless, in fact I had yet to meet someone who could baffle this woman. In the 25 years I had known her, she was speechless once; when her father remarried. She did not speak for the entirety of the wedding celebrations; pettiness at its finest. A skill Miss Laura Jane never needed to practice. This was always an attribute that, while I found amusing, led to some conflicting views about Miss Laura Jane along her way. I had always heard whispers among the walls of the socialites, the words “unusual” and “wait till she gets married”never uttered to close no neither I nor her father but spoken out loud all the same. Watching her now, you would never of guessed the witty remarks that flew off this young woman’s tongue; the way he was looking at her you would’ve scorned the women who talked of the day she would end up alone.
Miss Laura Jane looked the young man up and down, she had never seen him at these events before; let alone hiding in her kitchen. “May I help you?” Sheepishly she tried to hide the glass of whiskey behind her back.
“Not unless you’ve got another glass hidden behind your back” the ring on his finger glinted in the sun as he reached for the bottle she had forgotten to hide. She looked at it in his hands, kicking herself.
“Is the party I threw so boring you found it among yourself to root around my kitchen?” Now at the cupboard she smirked, his reflection in the glass showed a sense of surprise and uncertainty.
“Well,” he walked towards her, unaware of that thing called personal space, “if its your party, why aren’t you out there making sure nobody wonders into your kitchen to find a young woman seemingly stealing a sip of whiskey?”. He reached around her, for the glass that she placed on the counter. “Miss Laura Jane.”
“Well, it appears you now know who I am. May I ask who you are?” She coughed as she stepped to the side. This young man baffled her. He was an unknown, yet she felt as if she had known him for quite some time. The way he stood, leaning against the counter while pouring himself his whiskey. His hands steady as he looked up and made eye contact; enough to fluster Miss Laura Jane.
“Alexander.” His head tilted, gaging her reaction. She waited, hoping he would explain himself, knowing the probably would not. He seemed unaware of customs regarding politeness.
“Well, Alexander, tell me how is it that you seem so familiar? I swear I have never met you at any other event, I’d say I would have remembered a young man who disappears into kitchens” She smirked, confident that she could hold her own against this still unknown young man with the pretty ring and the breathtaking smirk.
“Why, LJ. Why didn’t you ask sooner,” Stood opposite her across the kitchen island, resting the glass of whiskey in his hand, his playful smirk boring into the soul of Miss Laura Jane. “I am Alexander Marshall. You’re right in saying that these sort of events are not my…shall I say cup of tea?” The glass clinked as he laid it on the table, not a drop left swimming in the bottom of the glass. His accent accentuated as he got closer, standing close enough for her to catch his cologne.
“Marshall? You are Sir Marshall’s son? I wasn’t aware that he was married.”
“He isn’t. I'm not his son. Turns out, he has a brother that he keeps a secret and myself, I am a by product of the unspoken of times he had in Europe.” He laughed, but somewhere deep Miss Laura Jane could see a glint of something else. She took a step forward as if to console him but stopped herself just before she reached him. As she looked up she saw that he was familiar, she was sure she had seen him somewhere before. There was something about his smile that set the wheels turning, pacing back and forth trying to figure it out. It couldn’t of been from school or work, he would have been at her house before and probably wouldn’t end up searching for whiskey. “Now LJ, I fear if we are missing from the party any longer people will start to talk,” He raised his arm, as if to take her own before double thinking and instead placing the glass into the sink, “Shall we?”
The doors opened to reveal a room bustling with laughter, chatter and the wonderful work of Hayden's Surprise symphony no.94 being played throughout. There were still many hours until this party could end and Miss Laura Jane could disappear once again. For now though, she had socialites to impress. Her single glass of whiskey was sure to do the trick; for an hour, maybe. Watching the girl I had helped to raise saunter around the room with her head held high on her shoulders, there was a sense of pride I held deep. Miss Laura Jane was never supposed to rise to the top of this select group of humans. She was never meant to fit in; but our girl, she is resilient, strong, a down right idiot if I am being honest. She is an idiot in the smartest ways. Her IQ and EQ are questionable at best. Balancing each other at the oddest points; yet it works. Trying her best to avoid the dance floor Miss Laura Jane ends up in a heated discussion about the current political state. I hold my breath as she steps up, this is what got her father kicked out of the socialites. He raised her like he raised himself, to not take no bullshit and to speak out. It worked, to some extent. Her hair falls back over her shoulder, and that smile she reserves dances across her face. Just as she raises her head, only a little but enough though to show assertiveness and confidence, she gets turned around. His face his hidden from where I stand watching, but its undeniable. Mr Marshall is back to save either her or the group of men she was previously talking to. Most likely the men. He takes her hand in his and as they step onto the dance floor, heads turn. It seems nobody recognizes the man who goes by the name of Alexander Marshall; they will now.
The music changed and the remaining couples departed from the dance floor. Miss Laura Jane however, spun into the centre of the room, awaiting her dance partner. The conductor nodded and turned around, the string quartet moved forward, and then there was magic. Her heels clicked the beat of the dance on the marble tiles, his ring caught the glimmer of the chandelier that hung above them. The party guests, whispered and pointed, slowly moving towards the dance floor as if this was something spectacular that they would ever see once. Maybe it was, in the last 25 years Miss Laura Jane had only ever dance once. With her father. As the song came to an end the room had fallen completely silent, you could almost sense the thoughts running through her head. The fear, panic, uncertainty. All of it; yet somewhere deep she knew the man that stood in front of her was not just Mr Alexander Marshall. There was something else, something new.
As she walked towards me I knew another party would be imminent. She would not let go of whatever it was drawing her towards this Mr Alexander Marshall. The door opened and she turned, not for the balcony where she would usually detox from this sort of event, but instead towards the kitchen. Towards the one window in the house where she could hide but still see everyone as they departed from the grounds. If she was on the hunt to see him once again, she told nobody. In fact I don’t this she ever would. Miss Laura Jane, whiskey bottle in hand, stood by that window as if she hadn’t a clue what to do or where to go. I personally, couldn’t wait to see Miss Laura Jane get flustered, and uncertain of what she was saying once again. It’s an unusual circumstance for her to find herself in, nobody has been anywhere near her level of shit? I don’t what to term is but whatever it is, I think she just met her match.
Miss Laura Jane looked the young man up and down, she had never seen him at these events before; let alone hiding in her kitchen. “May I help you?” Sheepishly she tried to hide the glass of whiskey behind her back.
“Not unless you’ve got another glass hidden behind your back” the ring on his finger glinted in the sun as he reached for the bottle she had forgotten to hide. She looked at it in his hands, kicking herself.
“Is the party I threw so boring you found it among yourself to root around my kitchen?” Now at the cupboard she smirked, his reflection in the glass showed a sense of surprise and uncertainty.
“Well,” he walked towards her, unaware of that thing called personal space, “if its your party, why aren’t you out there making sure nobody wonders into your kitchen to find a young woman seemingly stealing a sip of whiskey?”. He reached around her, for the glass that she placed on the counter. “Miss Laura Jane.”
“Well, it appears you now know who I am. May I ask who you are?” She coughed as she stepped to the side. This young man baffled her. He was an unknown, yet she felt as if she had known him for quite some time. The way he stood, leaning against the counter while pouring himself his whiskey. His hands steady as he looked up and made eye contact; enough to fluster Miss Laura Jane.
“Alexander.” His head tilted, gaging her reaction. She waited, hoping he would explain himself, knowing the probably would not. He seemed unaware of customs regarding politeness.
“Well, Alexander, tell me how is it that you seem so familiar? I swear I have never met you at any other event, I’d say I would have remembered a young man who disappears into kitchens” She smirked, confident that she could hold her own against this still unknown young man with the pretty ring and the breathtaking smirk.
“Why, LJ. Why didn’t you ask sooner,” Stood opposite her across the kitchen island, resting the glass of whiskey in his hand, his playful smirk boring into the soul of Miss Laura Jane. “I am Alexander Marshall. You’re right in saying that these sort of events are not my…shall I say cup of tea?” The glass clinked as he laid it on the table, not a drop left swimming in the bottom of the glass. His accent accentuated as he got closer, standing close enough for her to catch his cologne.
“Marshall? You are Sir Marshall’s son? I wasn’t aware that he was married.”
“He isn’t. I'm not his son. Turns out, he has a brother that he keeps a secret and myself, I am a by product of the unspoken of times he had in Europe.” He laughed, but somewhere deep Miss Laura Jane could see a glint of something else. She took a step forward as if to console him but stopped herself just before she reached him. As she looked up she saw that he was familiar, she was sure she had seen him somewhere before. There was something about his smile that set the wheels turning, pacing back and forth trying to figure it out. It couldn’t of been from school or work, he would have been at her house before and probably wouldn’t end up searching for whiskey. “Now LJ, I fear if we are missing from the party any longer people will start to talk,” He raised his arm, as if to take her own before double thinking and instead placing the glass into the sink, “Shall we?”
The doors opened to reveal a room bustling with laughter, chatter and the wonderful work of Hayden's Surprise symphony no.94 being played throughout. There were still many hours until this party could end and Miss Laura Jane could disappear once again. For now though, she had socialites to impress. Her single glass of whiskey was sure to do the trick; for an hour, maybe. Watching the girl I had helped to raise saunter around the room with her head held high on her shoulders, there was a sense of pride I held deep. Miss Laura Jane was never supposed to rise to the top of this select group of humans. She was never meant to fit in; but our girl, she is resilient, strong, a down right idiot if I am being honest. She is an idiot in the smartest ways. Her IQ and EQ are questionable at best. Balancing each other at the oddest points; yet it works. Trying her best to avoid the dance floor Miss Laura Jane ends up in a heated discussion about the current political state. I hold my breath as she steps up, this is what got her father kicked out of the socialites. He raised her like he raised himself, to not take no bullshit and to speak out. It worked, to some extent. Her hair falls back over her shoulder, and that smile she reserves dances across her face. Just as she raises her head, only a little but enough though to show assertiveness and confidence, she gets turned around. His face his hidden from where I stand watching, but its undeniable. Mr Marshall is back to save either her or the group of men she was previously talking to. Most likely the men. He takes her hand in his and as they step onto the dance floor, heads turn. It seems nobody recognizes the man who goes by the name of Alexander Marshall; they will now.
The music changed and the remaining couples departed from the dance floor. Miss Laura Jane however, spun into the centre of the room, awaiting her dance partner. The conductor nodded and turned around, the string quartet moved forward, and then there was magic. Her heels clicked the beat of the dance on the marble tiles, his ring caught the glimmer of the chandelier that hung above them. The party guests, whispered and pointed, slowly moving towards the dance floor as if this was something spectacular that they would ever see once. Maybe it was, in the last 25 years Miss Laura Jane had only ever dance once. With her father. As the song came to an end the room had fallen completely silent, you could almost sense the thoughts running through her head. The fear, panic, uncertainty. All of it; yet somewhere deep she knew the man that stood in front of her was not just Mr Alexander Marshall. There was something else, something new.
As she walked towards me I knew another party would be imminent. She would not let go of whatever it was drawing her towards this Mr Alexander Marshall. The door opened and she turned, not for the balcony where she would usually detox from this sort of event, but instead towards the kitchen. Towards the one window in the house where she could hide but still see everyone as they departed from the grounds. If she was on the hunt to see him once again, she told nobody. In fact I don’t this she ever would. Miss Laura Jane, whiskey bottle in hand, stood by that window as if she hadn’t a clue what to do or where to go. I personally, couldn’t wait to see Miss Laura Jane get flustered, and uncertain of what she was saying once again. It’s an unusual circumstance for her to find herself in, nobody has been anywhere near her level of shit? I don’t what to term is but whatever it is, I think she just met her match.
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