Lillian Prescott's morning consisted of an almost endless parade of gentlemen callers who wished for her company to various public venues, such as plays, saunters through the parks, an evening meal together, or simply the permission to call again. Elizabeth had disappeared into her classroom on the third floor with her tutor, and Brian had departed from the house to spend time at the opened-again Keating’s Gentlemen’s Club.
The most insufferable man to call that morning was someone whose name Lilly purposefully forgot. She found herself trying to steady her head from dipping. He may have dressed appropriately, been well groomed, articulate, and well learned, but he spoke gratingly and inspired nothing more than paint drying.
The two sat down to be served their drinks in the morning room that afternoon, and Lilly picked up the morning newspaper that had been left on the table.
“Put that down,” Mrs. Prescott said, taking the paper from Lilly’s hands. “You need to eat. Arthur will be coming back soon.”
"Oh, that's his name," she said, groaning. Lilly stopped when the manservant walked in with their hot food. “Please don’t tell me you’ve arranged for him to...take me to the opera.”
“Lillian, the opera house is still being repaired,” she replied.
“But him? Why not the McDowell boy? Or Stephen...Watersfürd? Or, or the Kristensen boy?”
Mrs. Prescott took a sip of her tea. “None of them were available this weekend to take you to that new play at the Hanzburg Theatre. On the Boardwalk.”
The landmark attraction in Antham was an over seven-mile stretch of wood and metal bolts that featured luxury hotels and shops, several theaters, casinos, two amusement park, and the Yacht Club. If the attraction hadn’t existed or suffered damage from the War that wasn’t repairable, Antham would’ve been devastated by the end and would’ve taken decades to recover.
This didn't include the numerous brothels and whorehouses in its roster of attractions.
Lilly looked horrified at her mother for a few more moments before asking, “Again, why not the other men who called? On a different night? Something? Please, anything but him.”
“Lillian, stop being overdramatic. I will be with you through the whole evening, so - ”
“Wonderful,” she replied under her breath, slouching into her seat.
Mrs. Prescott sighed and placed down her silverware. “Sweetheart, I’m just trying to help you get your backup plan set up. I don’t want you to fall back and not have someone catch you,” her mother explained, who then leaned back to allow the butler to set down the main course.
The two spoke little during the meal until Lilly cleared her throat and put down her silverware, appetite gone. “I’m not even sixteen yet. This feels extremely unfair.”
Her mother looked at her, melancholy flashing in her eyes and said, “I give you permission to politely leave early if you feel that Arthur isn’t suitable for you. But, you must stay for at least one act.” Mrs. Prescott put out her hand. “Do you agree?”
Lilly looked to her mother’s hand and smiled. “Yes, I do.” The two women shook. “You certainly know how to make a good deal.”
Mrs. Prescott smiled warmly. “Thank you, Lilly. I learned that from your father.”
“What?”
“Compromise.”
“Where is Father? I haven’t seen him since the fire.”
“He’s away on business, I believe,” she replied.
“It feels like he’s never here anymore, is he?” The question acquired no reply. Mr. Prescott hadn’t been seen much since the attempted coup of Antham’s government two months prior. Regardless, he had also been a poor planner, disappearing for quite some time for business away from home before returning to his family.
“What are you thinking of wearing?” her mother asked after about a minute of silence. She had also finished her meal.
“Pardon?” Lilly cleared her throat and drifted over to her hand, which held her chin and kept her gaze steady. “Oh,” she said, finally processing what Mrs. Prescott had asked, “I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought about it.”
“Naturally,” Mrs. Prescott replied, teasing. “What about that nice blue gown you wore to Mrs. Kroening’s soiree? Should you go dancing, it’s perfect.”
“I can't use that. I used the petticoats to heat dinner two months ago when we ran out of firewood. It would take too long to repair if I were to wear it for this weekend.” After a pause, Lilly asked, “Why don’t I go in that yellow frilly thing you got me last year from that dress shop from on Harland Street?”
“Isn’t that a little too…over the top? You’re not getting married, sweetheart,” her mother told her, chuckling. “It’s only an escorted night to the theater.”
“I thought Father - ” Lilly didn’t complete the question. The absence of Mr. Prescott suddenly resounded in her ears like the Clocktower ringing for the first time in years. She sighed and whispered, “Never mind.”
“Even if your father was here, it’s more...customary for a mother to chaperone.” Lilly’s mother placed her silverware on her plate and grabbed her daughter’s hand. “Thank you for putting up with me.”
“Mother, it’s fine. Honestly, you’re treating this like you’re forcing me into a marriage.”
Her mother smiled and stood up. “Come on, then. We need to begin getting you ready. We have more gentlemen callers coming this afternoon.”
The two departed from the morning room, leaving behind dirty dishes, the smell of their meals, and Lilly’s self-confidence of being escorted by Arthur around the Boardwalk.
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