A year.
 
A year locked away from everything and everyone. It had been boring. Painful. Tormenting.
 
It had almost killed her soul....
 
Almost.
 
Somehow, she still held onto the part of herself that set her apart from other ladies of her age. She had just gotten better at hiding it from those who would punish her for it. If there was one thing she could not deny, it was that her father was right that the school would do anything it could to get her to behave the way he had wanted her to for years. Alex could not help but wonder how she would have turned out if he had sent her there in the first place rather than getting that woman to do it. She probably would have ended up like her sisters, polite ladies ready to be tossed away to the highest bidder.
 
It was a terrifying thought.
 
But with her twenty-first birthday right around the corner, she knew it was time for a new plan. She could not spend the rest of her life locked away from the world as her father’s dirty secrets. And if she ran away, he would just drag her back. So that left her with one, terrible and unthinkable option.
 
Alexandra McPadraic would have to marry.
 
And soon.
 
So, she made a plan. Become the Lady her father wanted, find a man she could twist around her finger and marry him so she could run her own home away from her father and do whatever the hell she wanted. Sure. It was giving in in a way, but it was better then being locked up forever.
 
Six months later, she finally found herself in the carriage home from the train station. The letter having been sent to her father a short while ago to inform him that she was the perfect Lady, ready to take on her responsibilities and was now acting appropriately. She wondered if he believed any of it. If he knew her well enough, would he see through the act that the school hadn’t? She hoped not otherwise he would just marry her off to anyone and not someone she could actually stand…
 
Alex had thought she would be fine, but the moment the view of her childhood home could be seen, she could feel her heart in her throat. It was now or never…
 
As the carriage pulled to a stop outside the building, Alex sighed before checking her hair and dress, making them perfect like any ladies should be. She then fixed her posture and made to exit the vehicle.
 
Time to leave her childhood behind she supposed…

All the servants fit to be seen stood lined up in front of the porch to receive the eldest daughter of the McPadraic family. Arthur stood in front of them, legs apart like a man who was used to taking up space physically and metaphorically, and hands folded behind his back. He squinted as the carriage rolled in. It was a warm and dry summer evening. Birds sang in the hedges that separated the front lawn from the gardens. There was the sweet smell of flowers coming from the other side. The low evening sun seemed to light up the mansion and coloured the marble porch a feeble pink. But Arthur neither noticed nor enjoyed any of that. His mind was occupied with the young lady who would step out of that carriage in a moment, and whether he would find her improved and worthy of polite society, or whether this too had been one of her tricks. Experience told him not to hope, yet hope he did.

When the carriage came to a halt, a footman ran forward to open the door, while two others occupied themselves with the young lady's luggage. Arthur tilted his head slightly and observed the result of a year's worth of exorbitant fees. His first impression was that it had been worth it. She looked more charming than he had ever seen her and carried herself like a lady. But he was wary. "Alexandra, my dear," he greeted her. He stepped forward put his hands on her upper arms and kissed her cheek. "You look well."

Alex looked out the carriage door window so see her father standing there in his normal controlling way, surrounded by his army of servants. Was the spectacle necessary? For Sir McPadraic, Alex was sure it was but, in her mind, she would have preferred him and her sisters to be the ones greeting her home. But instead of feeling annoyed, she reminded herself that she would have to hold her tongue, more then she ever had if this was going to work.

She waited for the footman instead of just getting out like she would have done a year ago, taking the time to steady herself for what was about to happen. She allowed him to assist her in getting out, hand in his as she took her time to be careful so her dress wouldn’t end up caught or muddy. Once on the ground, she walked her way up to her father, keeping her eyes looked on him as her hands held the hem of her dress out of the mud. How she missed her shorter dresses…

Alexandra stopped in front of him and smiled softly as he embraced her, her eyes warm with a mixture of happiness of her return home and the lingering sadness of having been away. She returned the kiss. “As do you Father. How are you?” she replied, keeping her attention on him. As much as she disagreed with her father, she was pleased to see him. She had missed him while away. Had missed her family… well most of it. The woman still could disappear for all she cared…

Arthur was skeptical, but it was hard not to cherish this fresh hope that his daughter had been transformed, when she looked and behaved so much like the elegant young lady he had wanted her to be. She looked like her mother. He had always known it rationally, given the shape of her face, her eyes, the colour of her hair. But this was the first time he saw it. And despite their history of conflict, despite his apprehension, which he tried desperately to keep alive, he burned with pride.

"I'm very well, thank you. Very pleased to see you, my dear child." But he chuckled. "No, I shouldn't say it anymore. What a graceful young lady you have become. You look so much like your mother." He held out his arm, and if she took it, he led her up the steps. As they passed them, the servants bowed or curtsied. Arthur had hoped that all the pomp for the return of the eldest McPadraic daughter would flatter its object into acting the part.

Her eyes widened in surprise and her mouth dropped slightly. He had never said that to her. Others who knew her mother had, but never her father. She shallowed lightly as tears tempted along the edges of her eyes as she took a moment to catch herself before taking his arm. Did he know how much such a simple comment would affect her? Perhaps… she didn’t get her cunningness from her mother after all. But still… She had not thought she would ever need to hear it from him, and yet…

 
“Where are my sisters?” she asked as they walk, not taking any notice of the over display of the servants. She really did just want to see the others, to make sure they were well. And perhaps see how deep the woman had gotten her claws into them without Alex being there to stop it.

Two servants held the double door open for them and Arthur led his daughter into an opulent reception hall, furnished with polished marble, ancestral portraits, exotic vases and statues purchased by several generations of McPadraics from several generations of colonial looters merchants, and doorways, windows, and stairs of almost decadent proportions. Left and right grand doors led to the ball room and the parlour, respectively. In front of them there was a grand staircase to an open landing, from which two corridors spread to the two wings of bed and guest chambers. To the left of the staircase there was a gothic arched corridor leading to the other rooms: the breakfast room, the dining room, the great dining hall for the more ceremonial dinners, the billiard room, the drawing room for the ladies, etc. Right under the staircase, almost hidden from view was a door to the servant corridors. The home had a separate network of corridors for the servants so that they could stay out of sight while moving from room to room.

Arthur withdrew his arm. "They are dressing for dinner, as is mama. We'll have dinner in the dining hall today." He hoped the honour would make her feel welcome, and encourage her to be amiable and civilised. "Why don't you go get settled and changed? I've asked Martha to help you. If you find her assistance to your wishes, she can be your lady's maid from now on. Your mother's maid left, so she's taken Dora." Dora had been Alexandra's lady's maid before she left for the school.

Alexandra hardly had to look around to know what there was, the house had hardly ever changed in her life time at least. But it did have a calming effect as they entered. She was home. Out of that terrible school.

She froze slightly as he talked about his wife, and the actions she had taken in Alex’s time away. She felt her teeth clench as she was referred to as her mother. Her heart ached a bit for Dora, having to be stuck serving the other, but at the same time Dora did not agree with a lot of what Alex did so Alex had spent a lot of time lying to the maid. Perhaps it was better that way.

But she knew she had to speak now, while her father was in a good mood.

“Thank you, Father, I will see if she is someone I would like to keep” she replied with a thankful smiling, hoping that not whining over losing Dora and being thankful for a maid, something she used to fight over, would keep him from getting angry at her for what she would say next.

“There is something I would like to say, however. I know I have been rude, unkind and my behaviour has gone too far in the past with your wife. And I will be apologising to her for it and if she is willing, then I also will be willing to try and create a relationship with her. But she will never be my Mama, Papa. My Mama is dead true, but she died when I was old enough to know her love and she cannot be replaced. I hope you can respect that. I am happy to call your wife Elaine or Mrs McPadraic, whichever she prefers. But do not force me to call her something she is not to me. It is not fair on her, me or Mama” she said, not angry or righteously. Just simply calm, polite, and honest. Like a grown Lady rather then a spoiled child. “I do not need your answer now, but I encourage you to think on it. I believe it will work best for everyone if there is no pressure placed upon us to be something we are not” she added before curtsying and moving for the stairs to get ready for dinner.

Arthur's smile faltered when his daughter spoke. Admittedly, she spoke differently than she would have in the past when disagreeing with him, but here was the undeniable proof that she was still obstinate, making demands. He turned red and was ready to cut in when she told him she didn't need an answer now, and that made him pause. When she turned to walk away, he let her, though he looked after her with a deep frown and teeth clenched.

Perhaps he should 'pick his battles', as some people said. But for a man who was used to winning every battle, that was a grim prospect.

Even if he would, that wouldn't keep the peace under his roof, Arthur soon learned, when he went to speak to Elaine about the issue and she went into hysterics over 'the children mocking her'.

When he came down for dinner he had a headache and a bad temper. He entered the family room, from whence they would be led into the dining hall once dinner was ready to be served. Florence was already there, readjusting her glove. "Where is mama, papa?" she asked.

"She's feeling unwell," said Arthur as he plopped down on the sofa. He poured himself a drink. They'd need to find a suitable match for Alex soon, for he didn't think his heart could suffer this for long.

Alexandra could feel the shift in his mood without having to look at him. She was use to it by now. She had hoped the way she had worded it would sound grown up enough not to upset him, but it seemed she was wrong... mostly. He had let her walk away which never happened.

She took her time getting ready. Or rather letting the maid get her ready. She had almost fallen to sleep as the women brushed out her hair. She had never really liked others touching it, one of the reason she had had it short. But it she found it almost relaxing after a long trip. The locks curled down her back, having grown out in her time away as the school would not allow her to keep it short. Martha and she agreed to keep most of it down, but loped the top layers like a crown. Alex then put on the dress her father had gotten for family dinners she had always refused to wear. It was fair to much lace for her taste, but even she could admit now she looked like a women in it.

With nothing left to do, she slipped on her gloves.... as much of a pain as they were, and made her way down to the family room.

She smiled as she saw her sister, making her way over to hug the other before taking her seat in one of the armchairs. Usually she would read, but instead this time she sat and waited, engaging her sister in conversation and giving her father space since it seemed he was in a bad mood. Probably about her stepmother and her.

Arthur swirled the drink in his glass and occasionally sipped it while he watched his daughters. He had to admit, the school had done Alexandra good. The way she spoke to Florence was pleasant, well-mannered, restrained, none of the over-enthusiastic, bold speech that used to make him cringe. Here were two well-bred young ladies conversing.

The door opened and his other daughters entered, and for a moment Arthur cringed anyway, as the noise of excited young ladies reached uncouth levels when they all gathered around their oldest sister, greeted her, and talked over one another to ask her about her time at school.

A boy of around thirteen or fourteen slunk in and sat down away from the family. "Good to see you, cousin Alexandra," he said, though he could not quite overcome the noise of the girls. He glanced at his uncle, but Arthur watched the girls.