Summary: Daphne moves to the UK to live with her father and his family, but her life will take unexpected turns as soon as she arrives.
October 2015
Daphne walked cautiously through the airport, her father’s driver leading the way to the exit while a hyper-energetic Briar looked around, taking in everything. She has never been to Europe before and the idea of living here would never be possible if Earl Vincent didn’t offer her mother a job in one of the most prestigious bakeries of Edgewater. Daphne, however, wasn’t as thrilled.
Through her early teens, Vincent would travel to the States once in a while to meet Daphne, bring her gifts and spend some time with her and she slowly grew fond of him. But one thing was meeting him occasionally. Moving in and living under the same roof, his roof, with his new family in a country she didn’t know anyone else but him was overwhelming. What if they don’t like me? What if he sends me away if they don’t like me? I miss mama…
Lost in her own thoughts, Daphne walked inattentively towards the airport exit when she felt the painful pressure of luggage cart wheels running on her foot.
“Oww!” She let out a loud high pitched scream. Leaning down to rub her lightly injured foot, she caught the sight of a large male frame huffing as he left. “Hey! Watch where you’re going!” She yelled at the man, who merely looked over his shoulder, gave her a dirty look and continued to walk away.
“Miss Wang, are you alright?” The driver asked, helping Daphne to be on her feet again.
“Yes, thank you,” she forced a smile.
“Daph, are you hurt? Do you need help to walk to the car?” Briar questioned.
“I’ll manage.” Daphne gave her friend a reassuring smile and walked as steady as possible.
“It’s sad a good looking man like that was so rude,” Briar sighed.
Daphne gave her best friend a sideways glance.
“What? It’s true. Of course he’d be so much prettier if he didn’t seem like he has something stuck up his–”
“Briar!” Daphne elbowed her friend as the driver hid a grin from them.
The driver led Daphne and Briar to a blue SUV with Edgewater coat of arms and took them to Earl Vincent’s estate. The ride wasn’t long enough to calm Daphne’s nerves. The imposing prodigy house, the number of staff members passing by and the vast English garden were just some of the things making her anxious. Her biggest fear was meeting her father’s family.
Daphne had seen pictures of her father’s family members and memorized their faces to make a good impression. The pictures, however, didn’t say much about their personalities.
“Good morning, ma’am,” Daphne smiled and extended her hand.
“Good morning,” The dowager countess eyed Daphne from head to toe before replying to the handshake. “You must be Daphne. I see the resemblance to your mother and my son. Welcome to our home.”
“Thank you, ma’am. This is my best friend, Briar Daly.”
“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Briar mirrored Daphne’s gesture.
“Ah, yes. Vincent told me you would have company, Daphne. I’m pleased to meet you, Briar. I’m Dominique,” she returned the handshake. “Come. You must be tired.”
The dowager countess led the girls inside the house, showing a few rooms of the house on the way to Daphne’s bedroom.
“Oh god,” Daphne mumbled staring at the newly furnished suite with a queen-size bed, a plush chair near to a bookshelf and to the glass door leading to a balcony with a lovely view of the estate, a walk-in closet, a study desk, a vanity dresser and plenty of space to fit another bed.
“Vincent wanted Briar to take one of the guests’ rooms, but I figured you both want to keep each other company while you get settled and Ms. Daly moves to the house in Norwich with her mother.”
Daphne and Briar squealed and hugged each other.
“I can take you both agree with me?” Dominique smirked.
“Yes! Thank you so much, ma’am,” Daphne replied giddily.
“From now on, you can start skipping the formalities and call me grandmother.”
“Sure! Yes, ma’am!” Daphne nodded then smacked her forehead. “I mean, granny.”
Dominique gave arched an eyebrow, amused.
“Uh… Lady Grandmother?” Daphne flinched a little.
“I understand it’ll take some time for both of us to get well acquainted.” The dowager countess grinned. “We have to prepare for your dinner party tonight. Get some rest and be ready to leave at 2 pm so we can go shopping.”
“Shopping?“
“Unless you packed any designer outfits in your suitcase, I believe we have to purchase a few cocktail dresses and gowns for the upcoming events of the season.”
“Oh… I didn’t know.”
“Don’t worry, my dear. You’ll learn everything you need to know to honor our family’s name and I’ll be with you every step of the way,” Dominique patted her granddaughter’s shoulder fondly. “Now have some rest. Call the servants when you’re hungry or call me if you need anything else.”
“What about my father?”
“He’s in town in a business meeting. You’ll see him tonight at dinner.”
“Okay,” Daphne smiled, in an attempt to hide her disappointment. “Grandmother?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Dominique smiled and left the room.
“Daph, you’re so lucky. This room, this house, your noble family… You’re living like a princess! Hey, do you think you’ll meet the Queen?” Briar mused.
“Yeah, right…” Daphne rolled her eyes. “Let’s think about the things we can do here. You go take a shower and I’ll call the servants so we can have some snacks.”
“Mmm… I can’t wait to use your fancy bathtub while eating chocolates truffles and macarons,” Briar winked.
“Wanna tone down the extravagant demands there, Blair Waldorf? This is my dad’s home, not a rich kids TV drama,” Daphne scolded, hitting her friend with a pillow.
“But it never hurts to dream about it,” Briar grinned picking up her things and going to the bathroom.
…
At one of the biggest boutiques in the city, Daphne looked through the racks and her eyes darted at the sight of a one-shoulder jumpsuit. She picked it up and smiled as her hands ran through the soft fabric. Walking into the fitting room, she put on the jumpsuit but couldn’t reach the zipper and got out to look for help.
“Interesting choice for a lady on her debut to the English society,” a female voice taunted in the background.
“Why should I care about your opinion or anyone else’s on the clothes I wear?” Daphne glared at the blond lady seated on the couch behind her.
“Ah yes. I believe you have a point. Why would anyone care about a nobody?” The woman smiled slyly.
“Not all women have your conservative and tacky fashion sense, Henrietta,” Dominique retorted walking into the room holding an outfit still on a hanger and placing it on the couch. “If you’re done harassing my granddaughter, you can go now. She needs some peace and quiet to choose her outfit.”
“And I can hardly wait to see it.” The countess stood up and marched towards the door. “Welcome to the family,” she waved and walked away.
Daphne frowned. “Is this a bad choice? I don’t want to embarrass the family.”
“Absolutely not. If anything, our minds think alike,” the dowager countess zipped Daphne’s jumpsuit up and reached for the same clothes in a different color she brought with her. “You can wear this blue one and match with this,” she took a gold purse out of her shopping bag.
“It’s gorgeous!” Daphne looked at the purse mesmerized.
“Excellent. Now we need earrings and see if your friend stopped flirting with the salesman on the menswear section and finally found something to wear.”
Daphne giggled and got into the fitting room to change clothes.
…
All the guests were already at the dinner party when Daphne walked down the stairs, arms laced with her father’s. Unlike all the other women wearing cocktail dresses with cleavages, glittery makeup and with their hairs in updos, she stood out on the crowd with her navy blue jumpsuit, hair down and delicate natural makeup. Amidst whispers and gasps, she smiled to everyone, following Vincent’s lead.
“My esteemed friends, let me introduce you to my daughter, Daphne. Daphne, these are our family’s most loyal friends and business associates, Lydia Sinclaire and her son, Ernest,” Vincent gestured to the graceful woman and the young man before them.
As Daphne shook hands with Lydia, she locked eyes with the young man and scowled, but kept her hand extended to him. Noticing her glaring eyes, the young man studied the girl’s face for a second before recognition dawned him. Still, he replied to her gesture and shook her hand. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Wang,” he nodded.
“Likewise,” she answered icily.
Locked in conversation about business, their parents didn’t seem to realize Daphne and Ernest shooting hostile glances at each other. Shoving one of his hands in his pocket, Ernest picked a champagne flute from a waiter passing by and sipped the drink calmly, well aware she was still glaring at him. Choosing to ignore her, he turned away from her and picked up an appetizer from another waiter. Annoyed, Daphne pursed her lips and walked away.
Along the night, Daphne was introduced to several other business associates of her family and British gentry, dazzling the guests with her wit and graceful demeanor. Every step she took that night, every word she said, everything was meant to impress her father and earn her grandmother’s affection. However, she didn’t enjoy being in the spotlight, especially after a long flight and with almost no time to rest. Her enchanting facade was fading and she was slowing giving in to tiredness. In order to keep going, Daphne went outside for a walk.
The English landscape garden was delicately decorated with statues, small ponds and bridges lit by bollard lights. Aside from the music and the faded chatter coming from the house, the chirrup of toads and crickets were the only sounds she could hear.
Daphne stepped away from the main entrance and sat on the rim of a fountain. Taking her feet off her shoes, she rubbed them gently then looked at the fountain. The water must so cool and no one else is here. Why not? She folded the legs of her jumpsuit pants, turned around and dipped her feet into the water. She flinched at first, but slowly her feet adjusted to the temperature and she relaxed as the water cooled down the injured parts of her tiny feet. Yet, her moment of relaxation was about to be cut short by the sound of someone clearing their throat.
Daphne grimaced. Damn… “Oh my god, I’m so–” But as she looked over her shoulder, she narrowed her eyes. “Ah, it’s you.” She turned away from Ernest, who approached the fountain.
“Subtle,” he retorted.
“It’s what you deserve.”
“Because I ignored a little girl glaring at me for no reason?”
“Because you are rude. What are you doing out here?”
“Taking a breather from frivolities and idle conversation, but I think I failed my mission,” he narrowed his eyes.
“Oh, please. Don’t stop on my account. I don’t plan to waste any of my time with this,” she hissed.
“Are all Americans impolite or is it just you?”
“Oh, sure. You’re the one to talk running over people’s feet with suitcase wheels.”
“Haven’t it crossed your mind I had important matters to attend?”
“It did. But one would expect that someone from such a prestigious and traditional family would have manners and apologize for running over someone else’s foot,” she taunted, still refusing to look at him.
“It was just cartwheels and my luggage wasn’t even that heavy, it can’t be as–” Ernest trailed off as his eyes fell on the green and purple bruise on her big toe whilst her feet floated on the water.
“You were saying?” Daphne finally turned to look at him and crossed her arms.
“Uh… I–” Ernest sat on the rim of the fountain at a respectable distance and looked down. “It can’t be all my fault. Look at your shoes.”
“Well, yeah, they are uncomfortable, but I could have survived my stilettos if my toe wasn’t hurt.”
“But if you knew these shoes were uncomfortable, why wearing them?”
“Because they go perfectly with this outfit.”
Ernest rolled his eyes.
“I know it may be stupid for you, but this outfit means something to me. Clothes are much more than just coverage from the weather. They communicate something. They can tell us about a certain period of human History, its art, its music, its culture. I chose to debut to British gentry folk wearing a minimalist jumpsuit in the colors of Edgewater instead of a pretty little dress like all the other girls in here because I’m making a statement.”
“And what would it be?”
“I am who I am. I am not of ashamed of it and getting rich or receiving a title – if my father thinks I’m worthy – won’t change anything.”
“Stil… Isn’t it too soon to assume you won’t change? Everyone changes. Who is to say you will be the same person you are now next year?”
“Maybe. I’ll change if I have to, but I won’t do it to fulfill anyone’s wishes.”
Ernest looked at her as if taking her in for the first time. This girl, with her jumpsuit pants folded to her thighs, soaking her feet into a cool water fountain during a party meant for her… She was smarter than he thought, bolder than she seemed to be, and even though what she said has some inconsistencies, she wasn’t entirely wrong. “Not even for your father’s?” He cocked an eyebrow.
“What makes you think he would ask me something like that?”
“You are in a party filled with old boring people you don’t know and you talked to everybody as if you cared. You don’t strike me as someone who would engage on these social conventions on your spare time.”
“If you know my father well enough, you know he wouldn’t ask me such thing.”
“Indeed, but it doesn’t answer my question.”
“If I do change for him, it still would be ultimately my decision. Everything is a matter of decisions, Mr. Sinclaire,” she rebuked.
A ghost of a smile played on his lips as he considered her words. His blue eyes glanced for a moment at her feet bouncing in the water, the soft waves and splashes filling their comfortable silence. “I’m sorry about your foot, Miss Wang. I was in a hurry and I didn’t see you coming in the same direction.”
“Thanks,” she replied quietly. He peeked at his features for a moment. His strong jaw, perfectly messy hair, fair skin… Maybe Briar was right. He is good looking. A bit rude, but still. “I guess I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going, though. First day in a new country… It can be–“ she played a lock of hair, trying to hide her embarrassment.
“Daunting?”
“Yeah,” she replied shyly. “I think I stayed out here for too long.”
“You should. Someone is probably wondering where the guest of honor is.”
Daphne turned away from the fountain and picked up her shoes.
“Are you going to put your shoes back on with your feet wet?”
“Yeah, I mean… I don’t have a towel here.”
Ernest shook his head and produced a handkerchief out of his pocket. “May I?”
Daphne shrugged.
Taking her left foot, he began to dry it off, dabbling the cotton fabric on her foot. The flesh was cold, toes a little wrinkled from the water, but her skin was smooth, delicate, only flawed by the red bruises and the now purple big toe he accidentally injured that morning.
As his hand slid up her ankle, his soft and warm touch sent a shiver down her spine. She watched his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. Their eyes met for a split second and heat spread through her cheeks. It’s just a man’s hand on your ankle, Daphne. Get over it.
Ernest quickly put her foot down and gave her the handkerchief. “I–” he stammered, searching for the right words to excuse himself. “I have to go. I have a– a meeting tomorrow.” He stood up abruptly. “I’m sure you can take it from here,” he said, avoiding eye contact.
“Yes, I can.”
“Terrific. Have a good night, Miss Wang,” he replied and started to walk away.
“Mr. Sinclaire?”
He stopped in his tracks, his heart pounding in his chest as her melodious voice called his name.
“Thank you. I’ll ask someone to return your handkerchief tomorrow.”
“Keep it.”
“Okay…”
Before she could say anything else, he rushed to the door and walked inside the house, probably to look for his mother and leave. She heaved a sigh, dabbed the handkerchief on her right foot and placed it on her pocket, put her shoes on, adjusted her jumpsuit and marched back to the house to rejoin the party.
