Chapter Text
"You seem to be under the misconception that I am inherently grand. My parents were not wealthy."
"And then you met Lord de Clairmont."
"Oh, he was not wealthy either. Or kind. We married in circumstances not unlike those your niece finds herself in now."
- Susan & Samuel, 3x5.
When she was young, Susan believed the world was magical.
It was not so hard to believe.
She grew up in a small castle of which the back was overgrown with roses. And when she hid away with her fairy-tale books, she imagined herself as the female protagonist waiting for a dashing hero to save her from her dull life.
She counted down the days until she’d be out in society. Then it would be time for her very own romantic adventure.
In her head, she could envision it all: becoming a debutante in a frilly white dress, drawing the eye of a dashing duke, falling madly in love, marrying, being taken to all the epic historical cities of continental Europe, and creating a small army of children to fill up a grand country house.
It did not take long for reality to catch up with her.
Her mother had married a gentleman who did not excel in managing his finances. While their money continued to dwindle, the small castle had an ever increasing need for repairs.
The tower, her favourite spot, became off limits due to the unstable roof.
Her room required a bucket to catch water when it rained.
Inviting guests over for dinner parties was no longer an option because they could not afford it.
They tried to keep it a secret, but if there’s one thing the beau monde loves to do, it’s gossip.
Susan didn’t even dare to ask after the size of her dowry. But she was no fool. She cried about it sometimes though. She knew a daughter from a gentleman without a title with a dowry barely worth mentioning was not an attractive option for a bride.
Nevertheless, her mother was determined to see her married off. She could not help her son, who was doomed to inherit the estate, but she could see to it her daughter was taken care of.
So, with the meagre funds she could scrape together, she bought Susan a set of dresses, coats and gowns for a single season in London. They were not the poofy dresses Susan had dreamt of.
The king and queen of France had been deposed, and the nobility there had taken a serious beating. Their display of opulence and wealth had been rudely punished, and this had sent a shockwave throughout Europe. Gone were the elaborate dresses of yore, now the dresses were understated and sober, making women look like columns instead of hourglasses. But, Susan reflected, she did believe that she looked quite like a Greek statue in some of her gowns, which was not altogether a bad look.
Since their social circle had shrunken in the past decade, getting invites to dinner parties and balls was quite tricky, but Susan put on her brave face. What she lacked in assets, she made up for in manners and accomplishments. She could sing, she could draw, she could paint, she could play a decent amount of tunes on the pianoforte and knew three languages. She smiled from the start to the very end of each soiree and was determined to be considered the most amiable of all ladies present.
Perhaps fewer men would notice her, but did that mean a love match was truly impossible?
In her novels, people got what they deserved, even the poor protagonists ended up happily married. Surely, there had to be a lord, baronet or even simple gentleman with an income large enough to make up for her lack of dowry?
There were two kind gentlemen with whom she’d spent a dance or two at a number of public assemblies, and they’d even called on her the morning after. She was certain things were going somewhere… Until it happened.
With it, Susan meant the dashing dastardly viscount of Bayham Abbey, Christopher de Clairmont.
He was attractive and charming, but slippery like an eel. His reputation preceded him wherever he went. A gambler, a dandy, and a friend of the debouched prince regent. Susan had to admit it was hard not to laugh at his jokes or swoon in his arms when the man’s charms were aimed at you. But she tried her best to ignore her infatuation. He was the type of man a girl would dream about, but would not dream of marrying!
However, de Clairmont could sense his favourite toy would soon be taken from him by one of her other suitors, so he did what he deemed necessary. After dancing with him one night, he refused to let go of her hand, and pulled her to a dark room further down the hall. Susan protested and tried to leave, while he tried to convince her otherwise.
She didn’t know whether he planned it or not, but the door was opened by some other people.
Things were looking quite bad.
In that moment she was left with only two choices: engage herself to him with limited scandal, or tell the truth and ruin both him and herself in the eyes of society.
And that’s the story of how she became Susan De Clairmont, The right honourable viscountess of Bayham Abbey, Lady De Clairmont. She had a title, a husband, influential connections, a house without a leaky roof and a decent amount of money although it wasn’t a lot compared to her peers. Things could be worse. But with a husband who gambled away their money, acted out whenever he drank too much and did not care for her in the least except to show her off… things could also be a whole lot better.
Real life, Susan thought, was not so magical.
But she still wanted to believe it could be, if one was only given better cards in life, or dared to seize their chance at happiness before it was taken from them.
“I am nothing like him.”
- Alexander Colbourne, 2x4
Samuel Colbourne grew up with stories of knights and heroes.
His mother read them to him when he went to bed at night.
He was determined to become a soldier or a rogue when he grew up, and have grand adventures.
Fate didn’t appear to be on his side.
He was three when he was told the house he lived in would one day be his upon his father’s death. It didn’t sound appealing. He barely saw his father. He was always locked away in his office or away to town. It made him believe owning Heyrick Park had to be incredibly challenging.
Samuel didn’t mind just being with his mother though. Whenever his father was present, his mother grew quiet and he was told to behave.
Then his mother died. And things got worse.
Gone were the bedtime stories and warm hugs, and in came the lashings of his father whenever something wasn’t up to par. Actually, most things he did weren’t up to his father’s standards. Which would not bother him so much if only the punishments were fair. But they weren’t. Samuel was punished when he didn’t excel in bookkeeping, arithmetic’s and economy. Yet his father was an awful aggressive gambler who burned through all of his family’s assets, always spent more than his annual income and used up all the money his wife had brought into the marriage that wasn’t pinned down on the children. So who was he to judge? Samuel almost wore his father’s disapproval as a badge of honour. That had to mean he was nothing like him.
In truth, Samuel Colbourne may have become something of a rogue in his teenage years.
Pushing boundaries.
Seeing rules as guidelines.
And challenging authority.
This could lead some to believe Samuel was a careless enfant terrible, but this wasn’t the case.
Samuel rebelled against his father, and refused to give him the satisfaction of a perfect son when he could not even be a decent father. Being a prodigy also wasn’t a priority to him, he had other things he cared more about, like his baby brother.
Quiet little Xander would tag along on all mischievous adventures of his older brother, who was the only true family member the little one had ever known. They both didn’t consider their father a real family member. Truth be told, Mrs Wheatley who bandaged their wounds and scolded them when they pushed their teachers too far came closer to a parental figure.
Samuel Samuel loved his little brother. Together they played Robin Hood and Little John on the grounds of Heyrick Park, hid smelly stuff in the bedroom of their teacher and weathered every lashing they got from their father. He tried to protect his little brother from the brunt of the punishments though, and tried to offer him all the cuddles and stories his mother had given him when he was Xander’s age.
Heyrick Park became a prison. His life was a never ending list of things he had to do and had to learn, and was never good enough at.
He left the second he turned eighteen, and started studying law. Studying was fun. For the first time in his life he felt free. There was only one thing he had to do: pass his courses during exam season. The remainder of the year he could go out, drink, party and socialize with friends.
His father disapproved, but Samuel used the inheritance of his mother for it, so there was naught his father could do about that. Especially once his friends started congratulating him on having a son who was clever enough to excel in his studies.
Samuel was sure his mother would approve. After all, people with a law degree could do something useful. Perhaps he could still be a hero, albeit one who helped people with words, not swords. But oh well, they only differed one letter.