hello,
Here I am with another tiny little tale to amuse your uncertain quarantined days. It's the best I can do.Just like the song that sticks to our brains, to ease your Level of Concern, I'm gonna tell you a gossip I heard the other day. Gossips are, almost all the time, juicy; so here it is in the form of a Victorian nanotale.
Enjoy!
Vicious Weapon
 |
| Vitorio Reggianini - The secret |
Cecille, Baroness Westbrook, looked at her lover who calmly read the newspaper in the cabinet, a cigar stuck between her teeth, and sighed. There, alone with him, she was Cils and he Cici, simply.
With a nod to the butler who opened the door for her, she left thinking: En garde.
Ten steps to disgrace, a few moments until her life was decided in the visiting room of Bominda, the Abominable Baroness.
Cils hated that snobbish neighborhood, the white houses, the lack of privacy; she hated being recognized wherever she went, she hated even more the misfortune of having been seen treading the passageway of shame on her way out of the Albany covered walkway.
She imagined her name in the mouth of all the ladies at the tea party where she was heading just like a culprit condemned to the scaffold. 'She ran out, did she?' and 'From the apartment building for single men?' and 'Married to the elderly Westbrook, lover of a mysterious young man!'
The Abominable's butler took her coat and indicated the stairs, she went up hearing ghost voices in her head; she twisted her features in anger, felt her cheeks flush. ‘Late at night, in a dark cloak, but I know it was her!’ and ‘The little slut, doublecrossing the baron!’
The hum of female conversation stopped when she entered, her face the color of cherry. Moved by indignation, trembling fingers taking off the kid's glove on her right hand, Cils went directly to Bominda and... slap!
‘Choose your weapon.’
There was a widespread, loud and terrified gasp.
That was it, the challenge that would solve everything at once. She smiled, already victorious, looking at the shoulder of the abominable baroness. Cils was an expert hunter, she controlled a pistol like no one else. The other would never wear ample cleavages again, she would have to hide the scar in shawls.
With her hand on her face where the slap burned more in humiliation than on her skin, Bominda squinted. 'Ink and feather.' She replied, starting a new gasp across the room.
Everyone understood that it was war.
* FIM *
 |
| victorian gloves, vintage. flickr |
Just like Cloistered, this nanotale is a gift to dear friends, my quanrentine companions through endless whatsapp conversations. Each one of us in her own cage, we do gossip A LOT! Cecille and Bominda come from one of these funny afternoons.
Duels were forbidden when this nanotale is set, not only in England, but many other places. Since the 18th century, actually.
Nevertheless, there are many tales of vendettas solved on the vuming end of a pistol or bloodied point of a sword.
Between ladies, there are amazing tales of fighting undressed to the waist to avoid soiling the clothes, and the reasons were incredible: flowers, gossip, etc.
It's a great subject, every other day I get stuck researching it and this tale made me think about defending one's honour. Maybe someday it'll evolve to a novel or a cool post. Maybe both.
 |
| pinterest |
For now, I invite you to appreciate this zoom meeting of the Hamilton musical cast surprising a young fan on the hot John Krasinski home show.
The musical, famous for its diverse cast much like the (dystopian) Netflix Bridgerton and Baker Street Irregulars, tells the life and glory of USA founding father Alexander Hamilton. Politian, law virtuoso, military commander, lawyer, banker and economist, he spent his life around duels. Both him and his first born son died on the result of duels.
Lin Manuel who plays Hamilton was in Mary Poppins 2, so I'm gonna like anything he's in. Right? Supercalifragilistespialidoso!
Oh, yes, my dear!
If you're looking for a great gift,
check out my JOURNALS!
ORDER NOW!
see ya,
M.
