Chapter Text
January, 1885
It really wasn't easy to be a woman. Let alone a woman who wasn't like the others. You never called yourself 'different' to sound better than other women. You were different. The looks you got on the street only confirmed that fact. No, you weren't poor. You dressed nicely. Your hair was always put up, your clothes were never dirty, your tuxedo was always straight with not as much as a smudge. Your bowtie was never crooked, and your shoes were always shined. You were quite the perfectionist when it came to your appearance, but what did it matter when you still got dirty looks for dressing like a gentleman? Still, it was better to be judged for looking strange, than to be judged for looking bad.
You weren't married, not that many men attempted to court you. But it didn't matter, not when you inherited land from your father. And people who lived on that land payed handsomely, to say the least.
Yes, you were doing quite well for yourself. Though there was still something you could never quite maintain. Love.
You've had lovers before. Oh, you've had many of them. Unfortunately all of them chose to marry someone else. And some...well, some just didn't want you after a while. You often wondered what was wrong with you, chasing after women who you could never keep, not even in your wildest dreams.
And now you were here, at the most boring party in the world, eyeing beautiful women who either payed you no mind, or giggled and got flustered at the sight of you. And you just smiled at them, sipping your drink like nothing was happening.
With a heavy sigh you leaned against the wall and closed your eyes for a moment, listening to the orchestra nearby. Your nails tapped against the crystal glass in your hand. Suddenly, you felt someone clear their throat, and you opened your eyes to see who it was.
Before you stood a woman, looking at you sharply. Her auburn hair was put up and curled, her painted lips slightly pursed. You looked down to see her dress. It was modest, pink in color, though the pink was muted, and made the red of her cheeks pop out.
You cleared your throat back, a faint smile on your lips. You could never deny conversation a beautiful lady.
"Hello, Miss."
"Mrs, actually. Mrs. Hetty Woodstone."
"Ah, my apologies, Mrs. Woodstone." You said with a curt nod, putting emphasis on the last words. So she was married, that was a disappointment.
"It suits you well." She said, gesturing to your tuxedo vaguely, though from her tone of voice it was hard to tell if she was mocking you or actually complimenting you. "Though I must ask, does your tailor know he's dressing a lady?"
"Well, of course he does-"
"And does your husband approve of your...attire?"
"Oh, I am not married." You saw the other woman arch a brow. So she was judging you. No doubt about it now. You stood up a bit straighter, crossing your arms. "And even if I was, I would not allow my husband to dictate what I wear."
The woman responded with a scoff, rolling her eyes "so you're one of those..." She muttered.
"Pardon?"
"One of those...liberated women." Her words dripped with disdain, and your eyes narrowed slightly.
You gave her a forced half smile and took a sip of your drink, then set it down on a passing butler's tray.
"I suppose you could say that. Though you look like those words alone left a bitter taste in your mouth."
"How could they not?" The woman crossed her arms, standing a bit taller as she sized you up and down "I swear, most of these women are simply... hysterical."
"Are we?"
"Yes. You act as if we have it so hard. First it's voting, the you're going to be getting drunk off brandy, wearing men's clothing and badmouthing your fathers." A small snort of laughter left your lips, something Mrs. Woodstone didn't exactly appreciate. "Is something amusing?"
"Is that really what you think the suffragette movement is about? That we simply want to drink brandy and talk badly about men?"
"Yes, of course."
"Well...it doesn't sound so bad. And I will be pouring that brandy." You said as you leaned in closer to her.
Her eyes narrowed and her gloved hands clenched into fists at her sides. It really was easy to rile this woman up. You reached out and carefully adjusted her headpiece for her, the actions making her cheeks redden, though it wasn't clear if it was from anger or embarrassment.
You gave her a faint smile, then spoke:
"Forgive me, but I must go now. I have more interesting people to talk to. But I do hope I will see you again, Mrs. Woodstone."
"Y-you... Well, I hope the opposite!" She said through clenched teeth, taking a tiny step back and adjusting her posture.
"Time will tell."
With that you lightly pushed her to the side and walked past her. You could hear her gasp in disbelief at your audacity, and it made you laugh under your breath. And though you knew you probably wouldn't see her again very soon, she'd definitely remain in your head.