Scandals and Bluestockings

Chapter One

“I have committed many naughtily pleasurable sins in my life while enjoying the warmth of a good story, and my question is what is wrong with that?

-The Adventures of a Scandalous Bluestocking

“Agh, the disgusting, vile worm!”

Miss Holly Paxton exclaimed as she stuffed another gown into her traveling case. She was leaving, as many could tell, and they could tell that she was not leaving happily. Cursing softly now, she reached for another gown and placed it in the case.

A young maid was waiting cautiously outside of the door, once and awhile peeking into the room. “Francine? Francine!” A plump housekeeper, Mrs. Dale said as she hustled to the maid, who happened to be her daughter. Her gray hair was slightly falling into her face as she approached. “Francine,”

The maid made a quieting gesture with her small hand as her doe like brown eyes looked back at the door with fear. Mrs. Dale whispered to the maid, “Francine, why are we whispering outside the Miss Holly’s door instead of helping her pack?”

“Holly has gone insane, Mother! I fear for my own safety out here!” Mrs. Dale gave a frustrated, yet understanding sigh at Francine’s exclamation.

“Yes, Miss Holly does have quite the vocabulary, but that does not mean that she is out of her head.”

“The filthy, ungrateful, unworthy, son of a,” Some of Holly’s words were covered by the thud of another gown. Francine gave the older house keeper an I-told-you-so look. Mrs. Dale shooed her daughter and the girl sighed in relief. It was a larger room, with lacy drapes and a white painted walls. It had a slight blue accent that was meant to give the room a welcoming feel. But there was nothing welcoming about the insults flying from the woman running around in the room. She slowly shook her head and took in a deep breath. She walked as Holly continued running back and forth, violently shoving the few gowns that she had into the case, a wide assortment of insults gracing her tongue.

“Miss Holly, if you could please think reasonably,”

` “I saw him with that, that, that, woman. The filthy mangy scoundrel and they were, they were,” She stuffed another gown into her traveling case. A piece of short brunette hair fell out of her bun on top of her head like it always did.

“Miss Holly, please think,”

“I am thinking!” Holly exclaimed to the housekeeper as she ceased pushing down her gowns. “I am thinking about how much better I can do than that, that,” She let an angry breath pass through her full lips, as she turned and placed both of her hands on her hips. Taking a deep breath in, Holly calmly pronounced. “I am going to London.”

Mrs. Dale’s mouth dropped. “London! But, miss, please! I know that men can do despicable things, but,”

“Do despicable things?! He is despicable!”

“But,”

“I am done with his scandals, and his endless line of lovers, and his many rumors. I am through with Robert Tyler!”

Holly turned to her night stand and grabbed the latest book that she had been reading, “The Adventures of a Scandalous Bluestocking.” With a thump, she placed it in the center of the array of dresses. She then brought down the lid. When it didn’t fit right away, Holly kept trying.

“Miss, please think for a moment. Where are you going to stay? Your family doesn’t own a London townhouse.”

“I know that it will be with no notice, but Lady Maitland said that I am always welcome in her home.” By this time, she had climbed onto the bed and onto the case and was bouncing on it to get it closed.

“Lord and Lady Maitland?”

“Yes. They,” Holly bounced on the top of the traveling case. “Said I am,” She bounced again. “Always,” She bounced again, “Welcome.” The case finally closed with the last final bounce.

“Well, what about your family?” Mrs. Dale said, trying to make Holly see that this escapade didn’t make sense. Holly climbed off the bed and answered. “I’m four and twenty now, I shall be fine on my own. I will write to them, and you as well.” She picked up her case and gave her a kiss on her withered cheek. “I just need some time away from that blood-“ Holly smiled as she caught herself. “That man.”

She almost ran out of the room, not a doubt visible on her face, and left Mrs. Dale standing there, shocked and amazed as she could hear Holly’s rapid footsteps down the hall and stair case. “Heaven help us, what has he done?”

When Holly reached down stairs, she walked up to the tall and willowy butler who happened to be Mrs. Dale’s husband. “Dale, please get the carriage ready.” With a quick look, Dale’s brown eyes lit with question. “And where may I say you are headed.”

“London.”

“London?” Shock was apparent on his face.

“Yes London. Now, go tell John to be ready. I want to leave as soon as possible.”

“Yes miss.” The older butler wandered off to find John the coachman. He scratched his head in confusion. Never before has any of the Paxton’s wanted to go to London. Well, he thought, there was a first time for everything.

Holly entered the breakfast room where her younger brother, Quentin was piling food onto his plate and his parents were both reading. She walked over to her mother and gave her a kiss on the head.

“Well, good morning, Holly. How’re ye,” She looked down to her bags and changed her question. “Where ye going?”

“Mum, you know how you have always felt guilty for me never having a Season?”

“Aye,”

“Well, feel guilty no more. I’m off to London.” Holly reached for a biscuit as her mother’s large hazel eyes seemed to have grown larger.

“Holly, what in Lord’s name are ye doing that for?”

Holly looked over at her mother, a longing look entering her face. “I just need to get away. I will write and I promise that I will return.”

“Love, think.”

“I am thinking! Why does everyone think that I am not thinking?” Her mother opened her mouth to give an answer when Holly interrupted. “Don’t answer that. I will talk to you soon.” Holly went over to kiss her father on the forehead and blew a kiss to a now interested 16 year old Quen. “Mum, why can’t I go to London?”

“Do ye want to get married?”

“No,” Quen answered, somewhat confused because of his innocent age.

“The ye will not be gettin’ to London any time soon.” His mother quickly silenced her son. Soon, Quen shrugged his shoulders and went back to eating his biscuit smothered in jam.

“Miss Paxton?” Dale asked as he entered the room.

“Yes?” She questioned looking up.

“The carriage is waiting.”

“Thank you.” She nodded to their family’s long time butler. “Good bye family.” As she passed by she stood on tiptoes to kiss Dale on the cheek. “Good bye, Dale. Keep them out of trouble.”

Blushing, Dale said. “Yes Miss Holly.”

When the front door closed, her father, Mr. Paxton, dropped his paper and looked up at his wife. He asked. “Where is Holly going?”

“To London.” She responded calmly with a sigh.

“Oh good.” He picked up his paper again and then dropped it, understanding what his red headed wife was saying. “Wait a moment, where?”

As Holly walked out of the door, she breathed in the fresh air and found what she had longed for. Freedom.

As she climbed into the carriage, John Coachman looked at her. “Are you ready, Miss?”

“Yes,” She responded as she shrunk into the back seat, smiling. “I have been ready for a long time.