Tempted by Curiosity Page 2

  The sisters were all laughing together in a heap of rumpled dresses, and their smiles went wide from ear to ear. They were all enjoying their time together, and they were quite entertained with one another, even in the current emotional environment that they were living in.

  However, Lydia was not fond of any of this because she absolutely hated being tickled. Lydia believed that the Metropolitan Police could use tickling as a means of getting criminals to confess their crimes.

  Lydia tried, with all her might, to get away, but then she was tackled back down into the center of the pile again and tickled even harder then before.

  She was on the verge of heaving, luckily she had enough energy left in her to scream, “I surrender! I did it. Please stop! I might become sick on this very carpet, so please do yourselves all a favor and just listen to me.”

  With the threat of sick potentially being all over them, they let Lydia happily go and allowed her to finish her confession.

  “I did not mean to let out the rabbits. I was simply trying to play with them, and then I got distracted.” Lydia confessed with a mischievous grin on her face.

  Marcella looked to her mother and realized right away that Lydia must have been eavesdropping on their conversation, again.

  Curiosity seemed to be another trait that ran in this family. They all happened to ask way too many questions, and they were all fond of putting their noses into other people’s business without second-guessing that eavesdropping was a horrid habit.

  Eavesdropping was a common hobby for anyone, and everyone, in the countryside. On days when the most entertaining thing about the week was the ever-changing English weather, eavesdropping was a saving grace. It was unladylike for certain, but when you lived in a secluded part of the English countryside propriety was seldom looked upon.

  It was the perks of country living, at least that was what their neighbor Lady Stanton always said to them. Lady Stanton was their closest neighbor, and closest thing that the Stansfield daughters truly had to a true taste of proper aristocratic living.

  Thankfully, Lady Stanton’s estate was far enough from their home. Too much of that woman could give even the healthiest doctor in town a horrible stomachache.

  Lady Stansfield slowly arose from her chair and walked over to her daughters with her usual calm demeanor. That had stopped their tickling pursuits at once, and the girls redirected their attention to their matriarch, just as soldiers in a regiment would react to their commanding officer.

  “Girls, I think it would be best if you go and collect the rabbits now. When you do happen to find them all, put them back in their fenced area. We need to find them before supper is served, is that understood?”

  They all nodded in unison.

  “Before you all go, I would like to be immensely embraced by my greatest treasures.”

  Lady Stansfield was always sweet with her words, especially in regards to her daughters. When they weren’t talking back to her of course. Lady Stansfield had gone through five extremely tough pregnancies, each baby was a blessing, but also a triumph in the end. When Flora was born, the town doctor warned Lady Rowena that if she had another baby she would not be lucky enough survive through another birth.

  Luckily for all of the Stansfield’s, Lady Rowena took the doctor’s warning to heart. Even though she wished she could have secured a son and their family home for them all. Yet, she loved her daughters more than anything in the world, and she could not imagine not being there to see them all grow up into fine ladies, get married, and perhaps become mother’s to their own children one day in the future.

  That was what motherhood was all about for Lady Stansfield. It was about raising her daughters into intelligent, headstrong women, whom no matter what the patriarchy expected of them they would do what was right for themselves in the end.

  That was what Lady Rowena wanted for her daughters. To follow their hearts and dreams. She prayed that her children would lucky in love, and that these uncertain times would end soon.

  Just like her daughters, Lady Rowena Stansfield also had long red hair that was a tad on the darker side now. Her hair had slowly begun to gray at the sides, giving her a slightly dramatic look. It was almost similar to that of a headmistress at a pristine boarding school, but the kinder kind, and not the sort of strict ones that would swat your hands with a wooden paddle for fiddling your fingers too much during lectures.

  The Stansfield daughters had not been sent away for an education. A kind retired governess who lived in town would come to the manor three times a week to educate the girls in a proper way. Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Those were the three longest days of the week, but the girls loved the chance at being able to outshine one another in a classroom-like setting.

  As per requested by their mother, the sisters all came together for a quick group hug, and then they listened to their mother’s instructions and went out of doors in search of their colony of pesky rabbits.

  The rabbits were of sentimental value to the Stansfield family. Their late Grandfather, had purchased five white rabbits for his five granddaughters. He had always referred to the girls as his pride and joys in this world.

  The white rabbits were the very last Christmas presents that he had gifted them. He wanted his granddaughters to have some sort of gift to remember him by, and since his hair had turned a bold white at the end of his life, the late Lord Stansfield wanted the rabbits to resemble him in a subtle way.

  Right before he passed, Grandfather Stansfield had wanted the girls to focus on the happiness that the rabbits could bring them girls, rather then the sorrow that would follow their arrival.

  In a way, he did not want them to mourn him to the point of utter grief and outright melancholy. With death also came life, and that was the point that he had wanted to make with his final gifted gesture.

  Their late Grandfather had also liked the idea of the girls learning responsibilities, especially at taking care of another life. The rabbits had been wee little things at first, but now they had grown into big furry balls of fur. They were obviously spoiled when it came to their feeding time.

  Even if Lydia had accidentally let the rabbits go, it was now imminent to get them back before they were gone for good. The younger girls wouldn’t be able to forgive Lydia so easily for her carelessness with the rabbit’s and their fenced enclosure.

  Before Marcella could go help collect the rabbits with her sisters, her mother held her back.

  Lady Stansfield took Marcella by the hand and whispered lowly, “My darling Marcella, tonight we must speak about something very important. For now, you must go find Lydia and explain to her what she overheard. She may have misunderstood our conversation, and I feel that she needs to be told the truth.”

  Marcella nodded her reply, then briskly walked out the portico doors, and onto the back lawn.

  Yet, Marcella was still fuming. Told the truth? What else was there then the truth to be told around here? That’s all that was ever spoken. Sure, lies were morally wrong, but living in a world that was constantly filled with abrupt honesty and no lies at all was just really starting to become vastly boring.

  Marcella stopped in her tracks, she dearly hoped that she hadn’t just jinxed herself into a whirlwind of lies and gloomy deception. She shook her head and then bit her tongue. If only her mind would shut itself up in the same fashion.

  As she looked around, Marcella saw her three younger sisters running around and looking for their mad white rabbits. Their hair was flying about as they overly-exerted themselves in the search of the wee colony of pesky fur-balls.

  They actually did look like hellions.

  One of the many things that Marcella could not stand was when an actual stereotype came into fruition.

  If the townspeople who had called them all hellions saw this sight right before their very own eyes they would shake their heads and laugh at being right about the Stansfield daughters. That part irked her the most, when rude people got what they wanted.


  Marcella looked around her once more, and she was fairly positive that she had only seen three of her sisters. This meant that Lydia was not amongst the lot of them. She looked up and down the lawn, but she couldn’t find Lydia anywhere.

  Perhaps she had gone somewhere secluded. If so, that was not a good sign. Lydia only disappeared when she was up to something, or madly furious with someone.

  Marcella decided to search the garden, and she was more than thrilled to see a curly-haired Lydia sitting at the edge of the small water fountain that was at the center of their family flower garden.

  Marcella was hesitant at first to approach her sister. If there was one thing that all the Stansfield’s knew it was not to interact with an enraged and melodramatic Lydia. She could be both destructive, and quite hurtful, to anyone who came into her line of fire.

  With a deep breath, Marcella walked over to a hunched over Lydia and placed a gentle hand on her sister’s back. Lydia looked up with a tear stricken face. Marcella was shocked to see her sister like this, for Lydia never cried. These were real tears too.

  It was sad to see her this way, but in an odd way it was better to see tears than anger ringing like a bell in those bright topaz-blue eyes. Marcella moved her hand in a calming circular soothing motion on her sister’s back as she slowly sat next to her.

  They really needed to talk.

  “Lydia, I hate to see you like this dearie. You never cry, this isn’t like you at all.”

  Lydia wiped her tears away quickly, and took in a deep breath as she said, “Me too Marcella. I can’t help it! Our lives are changing, and to be quite honest with you, I’m terrified.”

  Marcella lifted her sister’s head up with her hands, promptly causing Lydia’s posture to straighten up. She looked into Lydia’s eyes in order to reassure her firecracker of sister that all would be fine, but Marcella saw something in those eyes that caused her pain deep inside. No other Stansfield had Lydia’s intense eyes.

  “Listen to me Lydia, we need to stay strong. We are the eldest of the Stansfield daughters. We need to, and we must, set a good example for Lucinda, Bernice, and Flora. Their futures depend on us now.”

  Lydia nodded, and took in a deep breath before she spoke to Marcella with conviction in her voice, “You’re quite right Marcella. Our mother and our sisters need us now more than ever. father is no longer in the grand position to do so, we must find and secure husbands quick. We need good husbands who can, and will, offer us both security and stability. We cannot depend on father anymore, he’s always absent, and mother needs our strength in order to keep this house in order. At least until that crabby so-called cousin of ours from Ipswich comes in and takes everything from us when our father dies of selfishness.”

  Marcella was shocked by her sister’s hardened reply. Had Lydia really just spoken such intense comments aloud?

  When had she grown up so much?

  Whether she liked it or not, Lydia had made an important point. They needed to find husbands who could secure their futures, as well as the fate of their family.

  Finding a husband was now the only way to feel safe and secure in this world. Hoping and praying for their father to stop his gambling wouldn’t be a realistic ideal at this point.

  Lydia abruptly stood up, pulling Marcella right up with her, “I have an announcement to make. Although it’s not my announcement to make, I’m going to make it anyways because I can. Lady Marcella Stansfield of Hertfordshire…”

  “Yes?” Marcella hesitated.

  “You are going to have a London season!” Lydia squealed.

  Marcella felt her heart drop.

  Today was turning out to be quite the day, and Marcella didn’t think that she could handle anymore of it, “Lydia, what are you saying exactly?”

  “I would think it was quite obvious Marcella.” Lydia snapped with annoyance.

  “You need to further explain this revelation Lydia.” Marcella spoke sternly back to her sister.

  “Oh alright. I overheard mother the other day when our neighbor Lady Stanton visited her for one of their afternoon tea talks.”

  Marcella’s eyes grew wide as she started pacing nervously. She knew that she should have stayed home yesterday instead of going to the village to run household errands with her maid. She had only left the house for a few hours, and during that time her whole life had been discussed behind her back.

  “There must be a mistake Lydia, you must have heard wrong. I cannot go to London. Not now, not like this!”

  Lydia took her sister by the arm and said, with a motherly tone, “Stop pacing! You have no choice Marcella. You have to go to London, and you must partake in the upcoming season. You are going to attend the Stanton’s Ball, like every other eligible young lady in London, and you are going to find a husband. That is the only way you can save everyone here from ruin. Do you understand me sister?”

  Marcella almost rolled her eyes, not another lecture, especially not from a younger sister who would be turning eighteen soon. This was not a time to be jovial. The pressure, and the stress of it all, was causing them all to grow up faster than they had ever wanted.

  Listening to Lydia’s firm and grim proclamation made Marcella understand how important going to London for a season would be for her, but most importantly for their whole family.

  With no brother for an heir to the Stansfield Estate, a distant male cousin from Ipswich would be inheriting both the family fortune and the family manor. They would lose absolutely everything if Marcella didn’t go to London and secure a husband. She would need to find someone who would be willing to take them all in when their cousin would take away their family home from them.

  There was so much to think about right now. All of these new responsibilities were overwhelming her like an overflowing river during a rainstorm. Marcella could feel a dizzy spell coming on so she sat at the edge of the fountain, and Lydia joined her there.

  They sat together on the edge of the fountain, and they thought about what they were going to do next. They had to develop some sort of plan, but before they could even say another word to each other they both heard a rustling noise coming from somewhere behind them.

  As they both looked towards the noise, a white rabbit jumped out of one of the bushes in the corner of the garden. The white fluff ball hopped past them, and jumped unknowingly right into the fountain.

  Before they knew it, Flora had emerged from the graveled path, tripping on her skirts, and tumbling right into the fountain, with the big white rabbit as a swimming companion.

  Lydia started laughing hysterically, whereas Marcella was completely horrified.

  At first Flora was horrified as well, but as she caught the white rabbit in her arms she started giggling with delight. Her unique laughter caused Marcella to relax a bit and laugh along with her sisters.

  Lucinda and Bernice came running into the garden completely out of breath, with a pair of rabbits settled under each of their arms. As the Stansfield sisters eyed each other from around the garden they all broke into fits of uncontrollable laughter.

  Marcella wiped away happy tears from her eyes as she said, “As much as I would love to stay in the garden and laugh with you lot all day, we need to get back to the house. Flora is dripping wet from her swim in the fountain, and supper will be served soon.”

  Lydia picked Flora out of the fountain by her upper arms like a little porcelain doll. As Lydia settled Flora outside of the fountain, she pulled a lily pad that had attached itself to Flora’s dress.

  Flora made sure to have a tight grip on the white rabbit in her arms, because the blasted thing kept kicking and trying to get away, “Not today Thumper.”

  Each of the white rabbits had been given a name, but no one could ever tell them apart so the gist of the whole idea of naming them in the first place was quite nonsensical.

  Nonetheless, they did it anyways. There was Thumper, Skipper, Hopper, Jumper, and Bob. Yes, Bob. That was Lydia’s idea at a funny name, but they all knew that Lydia
had just wanted to throw them all off with a name that had nothing at all to do with a white rabbit.

  All five sisters made it back to the house as quick as possible, they put the rabbits back in their enclosure, and they made certain that Lydia closed the latch on the gate this time.

  As they made their way into the house they ran into their Scottish maid Anne, who at the sight of Flora’s state of dress, was in utter shock. Anne had grown up around the Stansfield family. She was the daughter of one of Lady Rowena’s closest deceased friend from Edinburgh, Scotland.

  Lady Rowena Stansfield had been born to an English father and a Scottish mother. She had grown up in Scotland with many friends, but when her mother died, her father moved them back to London where she had the chance to take part in a London season.

  It had been fate when Lady Rowena met Lord Ernest. He also had Scottish roots, and that made her feel like he understood her and where she came from. They fell in love and they were married very soon after that.

  Marcella saw Anne cringe hard and then she voiced her disapproval in her Scottish accent, “Good lord, there’s a fowl stench lingering in the air. Dear Saint Andrew and all the Saints, Flora what has happened to ya dearie? If your Ma sees ye like this she’ll have an apoplexy. Come on, let’s clean ye up little lass.”

  Anne took Flora by the hand and went straight up the stairs to get her washed up before Lady Rowena saw her. Anne had the right of it, if her mother saw Flora in such disarray they would all hear it. Marcella followed right behind Anne and Flora as they headed towards the washroom together.

  Once inside the washroom, Anne took up the first hairbrush she saw and tried her best to brush the knots out of Flora’s hair. It was a serious matter, but when the little girl started laughing, Anne became puzzled.

  Marcella smirked, she couldn’t even begin to imagine what her little sister was thinking, but it was probably funny. Anne on the other hand looked perplexed as she asked, “Little Lady what has ye chortling?”

  Flora looked up into the mirror, smiled, and then looked back down at her hands as she said, “This was the rabbit’s plan all along, you see? He wants me to miss supper tonight so that I may have more time to play with him instead. How selfish of him.”