Welcome Back this is the 2nd part to the story and I hope you're ready to read some more, without further ado here is the Part 2 to The Greatest Journey....

Traveling through the country was fascinating to find most houses were smaller than Mr. Howard's except my grandfather's which was around the same size after closer inspection though on a smaller estate. Unlike Mr. Howard's country estate my new home had manicured gardens, a smaller stable and the same amount of servants except we were to hire a ladies' maid for mama and I, a governess for me, and a nanny for Joan. Daniel got sent away to a boys school while the new governess had an arduous task ahead of her when it came to teaching me French and playing the piano. The easiest subjects I excelled were reading, writing and singing though Mrs. Miller, the governess, would always take me back to the piano to practice even if I had no talent for the instrument.

The time I spent in the country in mourning was used to train over and over of my only pursuit moving forward: to marry, and marry well, into title like the one my grandfather left me; Lady Alice Stewart. If title was not possible due to the circumstances of my birth and my mother not being of title then at least someone widely accepted in society so that my family may also be received in society. Of course not forgetting this specific gentleman should not be in dire financial circumstances as for other people to not make me the laughingstock of London. Yet this whole goal hinged on my capacity to be pretty enough, a proficient singer with reading abilities, light manners, and a penchant for not making myself the center of attention or silliness. Mrs. Miller was tough and the more she tried to talk of eligibility the more I sunk into the practices of activities so that I may avoid at some of her talk of my conduct and the dreaded thoughts of a future husband for me.

After spending a whole of eight months without seeing another single soul and daily lessons of corrections from Mrs. Miller we were finally to go to London for the season. The London season lasted from the beginning of January to the start of spring where the families would then go back to their country homes or to Bath for a retreat. Mother listened to everything silently and without much input on anything leaving the decisions to everyone else. Most days mother sat in one attitude for so long looking so woebegone that it gave me the notion our family was happier in poverty.

As for Mr. Howard and Joseph, I never heard of them again, I was instructed to never think on anything previous to do with my poor life. It looked for the best since I would see if I looked in the past was this; heartbreak, sin, death, deceitfulness and things that went bump in the night. Though our frightfully big country house had less than tasteful evenings when everything was quiet and asleep it was so still any noise raised my hairs. But when the sun came up on the horizon until sun down it was a beautiful palace filled with people out and about moving along with their country lives.

We arrived in London in the beginning of the cold January in our carriage passing through the slums where mother thought our family would always belong to. In a fine London bedchamber the lady's maid, Edna, who had been recommended by Adelia was accepted because I told mama of her discretion when I attempted to be a lady's maid. Edna was from Bridgeston, though we never talked about anything to do with the town, or Stanley Hall, I wondered if she ever knew I was one of the maids there. Yet she daily exercised a respectful expression and helped me out of the dress and into my night gown like any other normal lady but I did not feel entirely like one yet.

"Thank you Edna," I said and she nodded helping me into bed then pouring the water in my cup for my bedside.

It was strange to watch people do everything for me while I stood still waiting for them to finish when I knew well how to take care of myself. But Mrs. Miller reminded me every time, it was just how things ought to be though it did not please me.

"Goodnight Lady Alice," she said.

"Goodnight Edna," I said and turned around to go to sleep, in the slippery silk night gown.

Three other servants had come earlier to prepare the place for house calls and I was nervous to be presented in society when we went to the theater that week. The next two days we prepared by sending out letters of arrival to the families we had grown close with in the country. They were the Thomas family and the Campbell's who both had daughters who were going to spend the season in London as well. Both families were fond of me mostly because they wished their daughters Martha Campbell and Cynthia Thomas to be more genteel like me as they described.

Martha was the youngest daughter of two girls her eldest sister had already married and was with child of some Duke piling on the pressure for her to marry. Martha tall and thin lacked curves, with a freckled nose and red hair she was not considered a beauty by standards though I thought her pretty. Cynthia on the other hand was the middle child of two brothers, her eldest married and her youngest brother went to school with my brother for her uncle guaranteed him a spot. Cynthia was small with a thin nose and very curly dark brown hair but it was her deep bland eyes and crooked teeth which made her unpleasant to the gentlemen. My disadvantages were talked of honestly; I was the girl with only half a status who inherited a title and riches she had not grown up with but at least a tolerable beauty. As for my poor mother which person would want to keep company or be seen with a woman who was low born and who had no inheritance of her own?

"You look very elegant mother," I met her downstairs.

"Thank you dear and you look like you will have half of the room asking for your hand by the end of tonight," she kissed my forehead.

"Shall we go?" Mrs. Miller asked.

"Yes we shall," I put on my hat and we were off to the theater.

Arriving there my mother sat next to Mrs. Campbell and I in the middle of Cynthia and Martha to watch a William Shakespeare play at Convent Garden. The bustle of the happy people expectantly looking around and walking to their seats was new for ever since my grandfather died everything had to be black and sad but not anymore. It was the most entertaining thing I had thus experienced, the costumes were so detailed I was immersed into the story glad my enthusiasm for art was to finally be satisfied and this was the best result of the direction my new life had taken on.

"Alice look over there that is Mr. Henry Walker the one who my mother swears will make me an offer of marriage," Martha whispered to me.

"And what do you believe?"

"If he did he would have to give up his flirtations and I do not think he would like that," she giggled so did Cynthia and I.

"And Alice that is the man I will marry," Cynthia pointed to one of the most handsome men in the room with dreamy eyes, "Sir Arthur Scott, do you know what his family crest means?"

"What does it mean?" I asked though I thought her enthusiasm too much for the competition she would face to get next to him.

"Amo, it means I love, is it not the most perfect crest?" Cynthia said as three other ladies talked to him clearly making him the most requested of the young gentlemen at the play.

"Cynthia do not be naive, his family is not as rich as they used to be you know? If he marries you for your money what good is it?" Martha tried to bring down Cynthia's eagerness but it did not.

"Stop it Martha you know nothing of love." Cynthia became upset with the truth but really his fortune did not deter any of the ladies downstairs why should it make a difference to Cynthia who was truly raptured by Sir Arthur?

"What of you? Which one suits your tastes? Let us see if you have good taste or not," Martha asked and we three looked about the room to see the eligible bachelors we could make a good match with.

"I am looking but..." Then my binoculars caught a glimpse of the last person I had been thus prepared to run into after my isolation to the country. "Joseph?"

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Copyright: All Rights Reserved to A. Sena Gomes.