Riddermarch by Ellen Quellery (top 10 motivational books .TXT) 📖

attention. She turned toward the blue muslin dress then the green one. She passed it to a butter yellow one and said to Jastalettel, "This one is a supreme gown. I'd buy it myself, but I am afraid the color does not do me justice. But you it might."

Her friends almost gasped, surprised at such an honest and helpful admittance. But Lillian loved giving true advice, and prided in her reputation as a lady with good taste. Never would she recommend anything less than what she herself would wear.

"And what about me?" Grennanod said, stepping hopefully to Lillian with wide, expectant eyes.

Lillian, before that day, would have said the Riddermarch sisters were clones of each other. But now, with a critical eye, she could see their differences very well. Jastalettel was the graceful, elegant one. Grennanod was the cheery, sweet and open one. And as for Azuesh, Lillian liked her the best because she had fire in her eye and a sassy attitude that said she didn't think being a woman was meant to be just a quiet decoration, but strong.

"I think the green suits you," Lillian said, gesturing to the one Grennanod had been attracted to. "As for you," she said to Azuesh, who didn't look quite ready to accept just any dress from an out-of-towner, "You should go with this one."

She walked over to a smart dress with a heart neckline, cut out creamy cloth with defining lines and contours. She then patted the one next to it, which had similar attitude, but a more feminine style. "This one, I will take."

Lillian then looked to the shopkeepers who were swelling with pleasure. They had already exchanged excited looks and whispers - as this sale would bring them a bonus in pay.

The other three ladies with Lillian shared panicked looks, as the best dresses in the shop were going fast.

"Would you really be able to fit them in time for this evening?" Jastalettel asked the nearest shop lady.

The young woman nodded eagerly, hands together in joy. "Of course! Of course! We can fit you now."

Jastalettel nodded, then went to the yellow dress that Lillian had recommended. Immediately the shopkeepers sprang into action. They rushed about to help with all the other dresses, while the other three girls searched among the remaining gowns for something suitable. Lillian, much to their relief, advised them as well - as long as they were willing to hear it. But they were more than a little annoyed that the Riddermarch ladies had capitalized on her before they could

The fitting of the gowns turned out to be much easier than they had expected. Most had to be taken in. One was lengthened. Jastalettel was taller than the other ladies, elvish height - some said. A few stitches here. A few stitches there. And they were done.

All the gowns wrapped in tissue paper and boxes, they all went together to fetch matching shoes and hair accessories for the event. The gaggle of ladies tittered together, pleased with their purchases, waving to the gentlemen that passed by on the street while blushing. It was a moment of inclusion that none of the Riddermarch sisters had ever felt before. And though they enjoyed the moment immensely, they could already feel that it would soon come to its end.

"Well, what do you know?" came the inevitable sound of the elegant Baroness's voice, calling out from a carriage a few feet away. "Out and about on spending spree I see! Lovely." Her voice had a happy lilt. And her face looked happy, her posture prim and elegant in carriage seat. Baroness Rooke was wrapped in a luxurious white fox fur trimmed travel cloak of warm tan. Her hair up in ribbons, her chin perched with perfect regality. Yet, the Riddlermarch sisters bristled, reading the underlying mockery.

"Good morning Baroness," Lady Lillian courtside along with the other ladies of her party, each of them smiling adoringly at their hostess. "Lovely day, isn't it?"

"Indeed." The woman smiled, her eyes only for the Riddermarch ladies. "A marvelous day."

Jastalettel turned with a brief curtsy to continue on. Grennanod followed, Azuesh lingering near Lillian with an inspecting gaze on the baroness.

"Is your mother well?" the baroness asked.

Jastalettel stiffened. "Very well, thank you."

But the ladies with Lillian shared looks, comprehending the meaning behind the remark. This time they understood the insinuation behind the words - especially after the incident with their mother at Witsend the day before. Lillian herself peeked to Azuesh who had become rigid with her chin a little higher.

"And your father?" the baroness asked.

Sighing, Jastalettel replied, "Father is not yet home. Business is still keeping him away."

The baroness's expression dimmed somewhat, her disdain leaking into her smile. "I see. No time for revelries or celebrations I suppose."

"Father was never really into such things anyway," Grennanod said, looking to Azuesh who nodded.

The Baroness huffed then gestured to the driver to continue on. "Pity. He misses out on so much."

As soon as she rode off, Lillian shared looks with her friends. Then she said to Riddermarches, "What was that?"

"Baroness Rooke, in true form - to us," Azuesh said.

"She doesn't seem very much to like you," said one of the girls, then blushed, slapping her hands over her mouth for saying so.

"No..." Jastalettel shook her head, showing the lady it was ok to speak her mind. "She doesn't."

"Then why did they invite you to their anniversary celebrations?" another asked, glad it was an open topic.

All three sisters shrugged.

"Not sure, really," Jastalettel said.

"Some ulterior motive," Azuesh said.

"But we might as well enjoy it," Grennanod added.

Lillian stared first then with her friends broke into furtive laughs, looking over their shoulders to where the baroness had gone. Grennanod's sisters peeked at her then laughed also, nodding.

They continued on their shopping spree, getting shoe forms covered in cloth that matched their gowns, trimmed with lace and little silk flowers. Their bonnets and hair bands were purchased and styled at a neighboring shop, where the ladies chatted over and exchanged ideas about proper hairstyles. And though Jastalettel normally thought such talk was shallow and vain, it had turned out to be useful. She had begun to understand why the ladies talked over the details of lace and fabric - as the heads of men turned at their end result.

On their way out, carrying their hatboxes to their carriage, a rider charged in the main thoroughfare on horseback, pistol in the air and followed by two others. All three were in masks. The small counting house was just on the corner, and closing shop. They rushed up to it.

Looking back, the ladies watched the robbers charged forward, pistols cocked. They screamed.

"No," Jastalettel whispered under her breath.

"This can't happen," Grennanod hissed.

"Not our village," Azuesh said.

Lillian peeked over to them. Like in the garden at their home, the air went still around them. And rising, almost at their call, out came the local dogs. Their hackles raised. Teeth bared.

And the horses bucked and kicked, eyes wide and jerking from their riders.

"Woah! Woah!" the robbers grabbed their horses' reins, but could barely hang on before they kicked and bucked them off. As soon as the horses were free, they ran from the village as if a lion were on them - though one horse ended up carrying his rider off, almost dragging him to his death.

Two down on the ground in the square, the dogs set on them.

The Riddermarch sisters did not let the dogs eat the men, but they did have them drive the robbers out of town, biting their hands every time they had attempted to reach for their guns. Their pistols got left behind as they scrambled away for their lives.

Some of the townspeople looked to the Riddermarch sisters who had been staring intensely at the scene while their new friends had screamed and ducked behind them when the ruckus had started. Yet the manager of the counting house tipped his hat to them sighed gratefully.

"Well, that was a new thing," Grennanod murmured to the party. "I wonder how long they had been targeting the counting house."

"Months?" Azuesh murmured. "I had heard of robbers going from town to town, but never coming to ours. Why did they foolishly think they could do that?"

"They had never come here before, I gather," Jastalettel said. "They don't know who lives here."

The other ladies stared at them, Lillian most especially. She inched in, whispering, "Were those dogs...you know...obeying..."

The sisters shared looks before Azuesh said, "They were just protecting their masters. The village, I believe, had a good number."

"Best guard dogs in the region," Grennanod added cheerfully.

Only Jastalettel showed any inclination of understanding what Lillian was truly implying - that they had called upon the dogs for the town's defense. Even now they were trotting back, getting petted by their local masters and the kids who had watched them come to their rescue from robbers. A pair of locals had bowed to the Riddermarch ladies, which Jastalettel gently waved off with thanks.

"Honesty, you'd think Lord Baron Rooke would take more interest in the affairs and well-being of the town," said Azuesh. "He has the power, for pity's sake.

"But it's not his town," Jastalettel replied gently. "But ours, you forget. This town's constant prosperity annoys him, I think."

"Annoys him?" The ladies stared at the three sisters.

Chuckling, Jastalettel waved it off. "Don't mind us. It just seems this village survives in spite of the efforts of him."

"The Sorcerer has plagued these lands since...well since as long as we can remember," Grennanod added, nodding sincerely. "But our farmers and tenants are under Father's protection, and therefore - strangely enough - that of the Elfking himself. The animals of the forest and land defend it, like those dogs. The Baron and Baroness can pass through, as do their rook spies. But this is, in the end, our land."

"You really think the Baron is the Sorcerer?" Lady Lillian asked.

The sister sighed and shared looks. Azuesh said, "Sadly, we cannot prove a thing one way or the other."

The visiting ladies parted from the Riddermarch sisters with much to think about. Was it true, or just rumor? Were they guests to a sorcerer? Or were the just believing the lies of elf-kin? At this point, they decided to defer a true decision until later, for the sisters were good company after all, and the visiting ladies had started to like them.

Chapter Seven: The Dinner Party

 

 

 

 

 

Rumor and speculation was the flavor of the evening. After the incident with the dogs, the horses and the robbers, someone in the party of guests finally decided to talk to the servants of the inn before they went off to The Dinner Party. For servants talked to servants. And if anyone truly knew anything worth knowing about the curse on the Riddermarch family or on the village, it was the common folk.

"Yes, yer governorship. They's all wild with curses. I'ves got a sister that works at Witsend in the kitchens. They'ves always gots animals eatin' with them - inside the 'ouse. And they's gots nurses on that mother of theirs from mornin' to night."

"But what about...fits...their mother has?" asked the gentleman.

"Fits?" The inn worker looked puzzled. Then his eyes brightened as he said. "Oh! You's mean when she finds things! Yeah...'er servants say whenever one