BASICS

[Alexandra Drake]

A carriage clattered down the road to the Drake house. The contents of said carriage was the youngest Drake girl, Alexandra. The girl was sitting quietly, waiting to return to the home she hadn't seen in three long years. There was a letter for her father in her hand, but it wasn't the letter she was supposed to give him. The letter in her hand was one she had forged. The real letter was shut inside her copy of John Locke's Two Treatises of Government; the real letter detailed how she'd been expelled from girls' seminary for stealing extra candles from the supplies.

The carriage stopped, and the door opened. Alex stepped into the sunlight. Her bright red hair was pulled up and curled, as was fashionable. The sun caught her curls and made them shine even brighter. The dress she wore was of the latest English fashion... or at least what the fashion was when she left. The dress was mint green, with a pattern of delecate pleats. Alex wasn't wearing the dress because it was pretty; it was, but she was wearing it more so because it was comfortable, and good for travelling. There were shoes to match, and a mint green ribbon was tied around her neck as the only adornment she wore.

She moved to knock at the door. Seeing as she hadn't been home in three years, she didn't feel comfortable simply coming in. Besides, the knock on the door should give her some kind of reception from her much-missed family. Alex especially wanted to see Annabelle, since it had been even longer since Alex had seen her. Alex was a little hesitent with her knock. How would Alex ever make them understand that the Patriot cause was just, and that loyalty to the Crown was like loyalty to the devil? She certainly wasn't going to keep it a closed secret forever. The Drakes were certainly in for a suprise. They had a Patriot sympathizer on their hands now, and Alex knew that they wouldn't like it one bit.

[Annabelle Drake]

It had been a lazy day for Annabelle. She'd awakened around nine-thirty but lain in bed for another thirty minutes, thinking about nothing and playing the the locks of hair that had draped themselves over her shoulder while she slept. She'd bathed the night before and gone to bed with wet hair, so her pillow had been damp when she'd wakened, though the night air had dried her hair. It had been the cold sensation on her neck that had finally driven her to rise from her bed and drift over to the dressing table that took up a large portion of her bedroom to begin her daily beauty regime.

After summoning her maid to begin setting her hair and pinning it up, Annabelle had cleaned her teeth and painted her lips a soft pink, which served to accent how lovely and white her teeth were. Granted, her left front tooth tilted a bit to the left, but at least she still had all of her teeth. Once her hair had set and her corset had been laced, Annabelle set out on the difficult task of selecting a gown to wear that day. She tried on and discarded several before deciding on a deep rose gown with a cream, embroidered stomacher, which luckily, had a matching lace cap. Finally satisfied with herself, she skipped downstairs, greeting her middle sister as she did, to have a bit of luncheon and to pen a letter to her friend from seminary. She wondered idly if she ought to write one to her baby sister Alexandra but decided against it. After all, she'd written one last week and very little had changed in her life.

As she settled into a chair in the parlor, quill and lapdesk in hand, she heard the telltale clatter of carriage wheels. Annabelle's neck twisted as her hand lifted to push back the drapes. Her mouth fell open with what she saw. That shock of red hair. Could it be? No, impossible. Alex would have written to her. But...it was!

Annabelle pushed back the lapdesk and dropped her quill to the floor as she raced to pull the door open. "Alexandra!" she cried, grabbing her sister and pulling her into a fierce hug. "Dearest, I can hardly believe it is you. Yet here you stand before my very eyes! What are you doing here? Why are you not still in England? Moreover, why didn't you tell me you were coming home?" She ushered her sister into the parlor, leaving the family's footman and butler to carry in Alexandra's trunks from the carriage. "Come sit and let me look at you!"

[Alexandra Drake]

Alex had to admit that she was suprised when her sister threw open the door. She put one of her now patented smiles on her face, and gladly returned her sister's hug. "It was a last minute departure. The letter would've been on the same ship I was!" Alex laughed. Her sister looked so much older than Alex remembered. Although, Alex was about the same height as her sister now, quite a change from before, and Alex thought it was a rather pleasant one.

Alex sat down in the parlor. The furniture was different, and it all seemed so foreign now. Her favourite chair was gone, and everything was grander. After the carriage ride from the coast, Alex was a little antsy, and didn't particularly want to sit. Why did people always think that she would be tired after a long trip? All those hours sitting, doing nothing wouldn't make anyone tired. Still, it would be insulting if she didn't sit; Alex had learned something at girls' seminary.

Setting the letter for her father on the table, Alex spoke. "How are mother and father, and Abigail? Tell me everything about what's going on here. I've only heard a little news over the past weeks." What Alex really wanted to know was about the civil unrest that was happening in Boston. Of course, propriety dictated that she couldn't directly ask about that, and Alex didn't want to make her sister feel insulted. In Annabelle's letters, Alex had gotten a sense of complete and utter propriety in her sister. Of course, Annabelle had always been the proper one. But surely Annabelle of all people would remember that Alex was always a trouble maker.

[Annabelle Drake]

Annabelle watched her sister talk, analyzing her face. Though they had spent six months together at seminary, that had been over a year ago. There was a good deal of difference between a girl of thirteen and a young woman of sixteen, and it showed. Alexandra was far more fashionable that she had been when she first arrived in England, something for which Annabelle liked to credit herself. Truth be told, she'd rather expected Alex would prove difficult to groom into a young lady, but Annabelle was pleased with what she saw and expected their parents to be also.

"All is well, sister, though Father is more concerned these days about the rebels and their nonsense. He will be happy to have you near him, though he has spoken of wishing to send us all back to England if things get too risky. He's written to the Earl and the Countess and expects they will agree. Think of it, Lexie! A social Season in London." Annabelle giggled. "It's almost enough to make one to hope for war!" She smiled sheepishly, aware how superficial that last comment made her sound but also not caring. Alexandra had always been one of Annabelle's closet friends, despite the disparity in their ages, and had always been tolerate of Annabelle's flightiness, just as Annabelle had been tolerate of Alexandra's wild streak. It had been Annabelle that helped Alexandra clean herself up after getting into fights with the neighbors' sons and Annabelle smoothed things over with her father after he finished yelling at Alex for not behaving like a lady.

"But enough about that dismal subject. Tell me all about England. Have fashions changed so much in the last year? Cecily has written to me and included a few prints from some fashion plates, but those were dated nearly three months ago. But your gown is exquisite. You must let me borrow it soon!" Annabelle admired her sister's gown for a few more moments before seeing the girl inside the gown. "But wait! I still don't know why you are back. Not that I am not thrilled to see you, but Father didn't mention anything about sending for you." Annabelle quirked her head, smiling at her youngest sister as she waited for her response.

[Alexandra Drake]

Alex knew that her sister was watching her. They hadn't seen each other in almost three years, and Alex knew that Annabelle was measuring her up. Could Annabelle tell that she didn't hold with the Tories any more? The rumors had been rampant in the streets of London: if King George would, and could oppress his colonies, that oppression might spread to England. Of course, it could be considered treason to even suggest that anything the King did was wrong.

"To tell you truthfully," replied Alex, "I'd much rather be here. England is so crowded and old. Everything here is big and fresh!" Of course, this wasn't entirely true. Alex wanted to be here so she could here, firsthand, what people were saying. Right now, all she had were the rumors, and the written versions of the story. She wanted to hear Patriot sentiments out of Patriot mouths. Another social season in England was the last thing she wanted. The English society women were so stuck up sometimes; Alex could only hope that her sister hadn't really become one of them.

"Well," Alex began, attempting to bluff her way through the conversation. "Pleats were in style when I left, but it looked like florals were on the rise," she offered. To tell the truth, Alex hadn't really paid much attention to what the fashion was, she just paid attention to what was on her own back, much less anyone else's. "You can borrow any of it, whenever you like!" Alex didn't really care. Annabelle took better care of things than Alex did.

Oh no, there is was, the dreaded question. "I don't really know. Madame said that she thought I was ready, and it wasn't news to anyone that England is not my favorite place in the world." Alex shrugged. Now that she and Annabelle had seemingly warmed up to each other, Alex took off her ladylike facade. "She gave me this letter, for Father." Alex guestured to the letter she'd forged. She hoped that here lie would get passed, so she bluffed her way, again, with a smile.

[Annabelle Drake]

Annabelle picked up the letter, turning it over in her hands. "Do you know what it says?" she asked, holding it up to the window, trying to make out the words on the other side of the paper. It was an old trick, to be sure, but one that had served Annabelle well in the past. One did not reach the ripe, old age of twenty and become one of the most fashionable, socially well-informed young ladies without learning a few tricks.

She squinted but was unable to make out any of the words save "Mr. Drake" and "Alexandra". Not that that did her any good. She sighed and handed the letter back to her sister. "No matter, I'm sure Father will read it to us. Provided it's all good." She sent her sister a mock-accusatory smile. "No pummeling the village boys, then making off with their horses, hm?" She grinned, confident that Alexandra had grown out of that stage. Allowing herself a little chuckle, she shifted topics. "But what's this about pleats? What sorts of pleats? Knife? Box? How wide?" She frowned, wondering why Cecily had not mentioned anything about pleats in her letters. "And what type of florals? Roses? Pansies? Large prints or small? In bold colors or muted?"

[Alexandra Drake]

Alex knew precisely what trick her sister was using; it was a trick that Alex had resorted to far too often at Seminary. She hoped that the forged handwriting would look convincing enough for her sister's critical eyes. When Annabelle returned the paper to the table, Alex could tell that nothing of the sort had crossed her mind, which was a huge relief for Alex. But she wasn't out of the woods yet.

Annabelle asked about fashion, again. Could Annabelle talk about anything more tedious than fashion? Alex had only been home for ten minutes, so she didn't know yet. "Uh..." she began shakily, "I don't really know for sure. It was all just rumors really. I don't have a head for fashion and never have, and I presume that I never will," Alex admitted with a hint of pride in her voice. She was perfectly fine with being different because it made her an individually engaging person. Did Annabelle really expect her to have payed close attention to fashion? Did she not know her sister at all?

Alex shook off the effects of her sister's tedious conversation and turned to another task she had assigned herself. She needed to find out what was going on in her home colony of New Jersey. "You've told me about Civil Unrest here in America. I know that Boston's causing all the trouble, but what are they saying here in Trenton? Do people agree with the traitors of Massachusetts?" Alex was playing a dangerous act, and she felt like she was walking on a thin layer of ice. However, Alex thought that it was perfectly logical for her to be curious about her home state. She hated to bring up the subject again, since her sister seemed inclined to talk about other things, but Alex had to know now rather than later. Perhaps a trip to the bookshop was in order.

[Annabelle Drake]

Annabelle frowned as her sister returned the conversation to politics. Why was she so curious? It wasn't as though war were really going to come. Her father had said that all this revolutionary nonsense was going to be crushed within the week. Never mind that he'd been saying that for the past few months. And more importantly, did Alexandra really think that Annabelle paid any real attention to political talk? Such topics were not appropriate for ladies. It was as her mother had always said. There were three things not appropriate for conversation in polite society - politics, religion, and intimate relationships. Annabelle's personal rule was that if there was a chance it would make someone else uncomfortable, it was better left unsaid. Fashion and parties were to be preferred over politics and war.

Still, because her sister had asked..."Well, Lexie, you know I don't pay much attention to such rubbish, but Father thinks the Maxwells are up to something and that we ought not associate with them, lest they be branded traitors and us along with them. I've not been allowed to go to the Mercantile in nearly three weeks. He's been importing our food from that shop owned by the Cockrells up in Princeton. Mother says the expense is ridiculous, but Father says he would rather shoulder the additional cost than give any of his money to those Yank sympathizers." Annabelle rolled her eyes. "I heard that the younger Barton boy has been itching to join in the fighting with the British soldiers but Mr. Barton won't let him." Annabelle sat back in her chair, glancing toward the papered wall to her left. "Honestly, Alex, I think people are getting all stirred up over nothing. Oh, there will be a few battles, to be sure, but the British will prevail and all will be right once again." She turned her gaze back to her sister and patted her on the knee. "You needn't worry, sister. Besides, your return is cause for celebration, not talk over this dreary and dull nonsense."

[Alexandra Drake]

The Mercantile, Alex silently added that to her to do list. It would definitely be a place for her to possibly find some of her precious literary fetish. Alex looked at her sister with an almost sarcastic, sisterly smile. "I had heard rumors in England, and I wanted to know the truth." Alex didn't mention that she staunchly disagreed with her sister; she was bound to get herself in enough trouble anyway. Starting a quarrel with Annabelle was the last thing she wanted to do if she wanted to last a day in her family's household.

Alex changed the subject for her sister's benefit. "Do you really think Mother and Father would find my return a cause for celebration. I'm only one person," Alex giggled. She did think that large, extravagant welcoming parties were a waste of resources. "I don't want them to make an unneccesary fuss over me." What Alex was really thinking was that a large party might interfere with her Patriot endeavors; parties put her on edge, and preoccupied her mind. Dresses, conversation and dancing really occupied a great portion of one's mind, especially when the person in question had spent more time reading books rather than practicing these social skills. Alex fell under that category, and she hoped that it wasn't written all over her face.

[Annabelle Drake]

Annabelle rolled her eyes at her sister, all irritation stemming from her sister's continued discussion of politics forgotten. "Alexandra, do you really think Mother will pass up an opportunity to throw a party? Even if you'd come home to announce you were with child and the father was King Louis, I still think she'd throw, at the minimum, a tea party." Annabelle's nose wrinkled, as she considered that statement. "Or perhaps a coffee party, considering there isn't any tea anymore. I've taken to drinking hot chocolate, though Mother says I ought to be careful to make sure it doesn't go to my hips." She looked down at her gown, the deep rose fabric spreading across her lap and spilling down toward the ground. It was highly unlikely anyone would notice any growth in her hips, given that her paniers were at least double the width of her natural hips. She looked up to her sister's face, anticipating her contradiction of their mother's warning.

[Alexandra Drake]

Alex laughed out loud at her sister's remarks. "Well, I will tell you that I have still yet to set foot in France!" she laughed, covering her mouth with one white hand. Then there was Annabelle's comment about there being no tea. "Why is there no tea?" she asked. In England there had been more tea than Alex cared to drink in a lifetime. Being given different options in place of tea was more like a Godsend than a curse.

"I like hot chocolate much better anyway," replied Alex. She examined her sister after the comment about her weight. Talking about weight might be considered vulgar, but between two sisters, it was perfectly fine. "Even if you drank 100 cups of hot chocolate, I don't think anyone could tell under those panniers!" Alex laughed again. It felt good to be, in a way, making fun of the frivolous fashions from London and Paris, though Annabelle might not agree that fashion was a useless endeavor.

[[I think now would be a good time to let Abigail in, if that's okay with you.]]

[Abigail Drake]

[[I thought I might go ahead and jump in since I had not heard aye or nay from Liz . . . hope that is alright. =)]]

Abigail had found her way out of her bed that morning in a similar manner to how she always did, with a stretch, a yawn, and some reluctance. She did not always enjoy getting up, it usually depended on the day, although generally speaking she much preferred to stay in bed over choosing to do anything else. There was something to be said about just laying in the sheets and sinking into the feather bed, and allowing one's mind to merely float and exist in the soft twilight of half awareness. This particular morning however, she was finding herself incapable of rest, a frustrating fact, for usually she had no difficulties in lounging about. However, she had retired early the night before, and as a result, was unable to rest any more, her body simply would not let her. And so it was with irritation that she forced her body to move out of the bed before the clock in the hall had even chimed nine times.

Her preparations were done quickly and efficiently by her maid, and she soon found herself gliding down the stairs in a deep blue gown that complimented her complexion most satisfactorily. Her hair had been styled simply, for she was not anticipating anyone calling on her that day, or at least not at this ungodly early hour. Breakfast was loitered over, Annabelle told good morning on her exit of the dining room as her sister entered, and then she moved back to her room. She wanted to find a certain letter from a friend that she believed she had misplaced.

Abigail was still in the midst of looking when she heard a familiar laugh echo through the halls of the house, as well as sounds of delight. Wondering quite curiously what exactly was going on, she took a quick peek in her mirror, straightened a few of her curls, and proceeded to leave her room as quickly as was ladylike. She was not at all certain what she expected to find, at the very most she suspected Annabelle was merely entertaining a friend, and therefore had no qualms about peeking in to see what the source of the merriment was. As she entered the doorway, nothing could have prepared her for the vision of seeing her two sisters sitting side by side. Stopping short, for a moment she knew her face lost its usual unemotional cast and clearly shown surprise. "Alexandra?" Knowing all her incredulity was echoing in her tone, she did not speak again, instead staring at her youngest sibling.

It was as if lightening suddenly struck and illuminated everything, gone as quickly as it had appeared. Her shock quickly disappearing off her face, it was replaced by a somewhat pasted, although definitely still warm, smile. Walking toward her sister with her arms outstretched, Abigail clearly requested an embrace. "Alexandra darling! Whatever are you doing here?" She ran her eyes over her sister in a quick appraisal. "Oh, but you do look beautiful! And I do believe you have grown! Good gracious child!" A half laugh escaped her lips as she gazed upon her younger sibling. "It is wonderful to have you back. Honestly though, what are you doing here? You cannot have completed your time already? Father mentioned nothing to me."

[[Please forgive the blehness. I shall need a few posts to fully get in the swing of her, so to speak. *is sheepish*]]

[Annabelle Drake]

'Good gracious child'? Annabelle thought with a mental roll of her eyes. Abigail was hardly in a position to call Alexandra a child, being all of fourteen months older than the youngest Drake. But that was how Abigail had always been and it was one of the things that most annoyed Annabelle. Honestly, Annabelle was the oldest and it was her claim to fame in the Drake family. Well, that, and her beauty, poise, and the fact that she was quite sure she was the family favorite. If it weren't for all of this, Annabelle might hate her younger sister outright. Luckily, she was only mildly annoyed by her.

"Alexandra was just showing me her letter from finishing school. Apparently our sister has become quite accomplished while away and is considered 'finished'." Annabelle laughed at her little pun, despite the fact that it wasn't all that clever. "She was just telling me about what was popular in fashion in England, though apparently somethings haven't changed." She smiled lovingly as she shook a finger at her sister. "When I asked her what the latest trends were, all she could tell me was 'pleats' and 'florals'! Could she be any more vague?" Annabelle giggled, knowing full well Abigail would understand. Though Abigail could get under Annabelle's skin like no other, she was one of the only girls in Trenton with whom Annabelle could carry on a satisfactory conversation regarding fashion.

[Alexandra Drake]

Alex embraced Abigail warmly, though she was a bit appalled that Abigail would have the guts to call her a child. Alex would bet 100 pounds that Abigail hadn't a clue how to read dead languages, understand philosophers or start revolutions. Of course, she could easily tell that Abigail was giving her the old once-over that her other sister had given her. Judging by the fact that her sister didn't frown, Alex could assume that she still looked alright, not that it mattered. Alex was going to bed after this...

When Annabelle began to mock-complain about Alex's fashion knowledge, Alex's face almost turned as red as her hair. Alex didn't have fashion knowledge, but she didn't really care; there were more important things than what you put on your back. Nobody else in Trenton was really fashionable anyway, so why should Alex be?

Sensing the coming iciness between her two elder sisters, Alex decided to change the subject, not to fashion, because Alex was clueless, and not to the Patriots because she might anger Annabelle. "So, I was wondering, if I'm to be expected at parties again here in Trenton... are there any good Gentlemen for me to... you know... flirt with?" Alex thought that those words must've sounded so awkward coming out of her mouth, considering that apparantly, both of her sisters thought she was a child. Nonetheless, some things had to be known, and Alex certainly didn't want to find this information out on her own. Patriot knowledge, yes: Gentlemen options, no.

[Abigail Drake]

Abigail took a seat near her sisters in a graceful sweep of skirts, shifting slightly in her chair to get more comfortable around the paniers. Looking up as Annabelle spoke, she turned her gaze to Alexandra with a sudden new interest and a slight hint of appraisal. "You are finished already? I can hardly believe it! You must have truly excelled with your lessons after I left." A half smile caught the corner of her mouth, for she was not altogether sure whether she was proud of her younger sibling or slightly disgruntled. It hardly seemed fair that she should do so well and finish so early, when Abigail had been forced to forfeit the finishing of her own education because of illness. Although she had been proclaimed quite accomplished and close enough to completing her education, such as it was, she still regretting not being able to come home completely successful. Such regrets did nothing for her though, and she pushed them from her. It was her duty to feel proud of her sister, and she needed to, at least for the moment, not focus on her own failure.

Joining Annabelle's giggle as the subject of fashion came up as it always seemed wont to do around her older sister, she leaned forward slightly in her chair, her gaze sparkling. "Did you expect anything less, Annabelle? You know Alexandra has never been as consumed with fashion as we." Seeing said sister's complexion become colored by a blush, she laid a hand on her knee, her gaze turning less mirthful, and instead almost motherly. She had never taken the time to ask Alexandra how she felt being teased about her lack of knowledge in regards to the current fashions, and she suddenly wondered if it did indeed bother her more than her sister let on. Of course, she herself could not imagine being so unknowledgeable, however, that hardly excused their teasing. She had always assumed that Alexandra merely did not care, it was odd to find herself suddenly considering if she maybe did, and just had not mentioned it. "Oh dear, I am sorry Alexandra. You know we don't mind though, it is merely one of the things we love about you. We shall write our friends in London, if we truly need to know. Or, we can scrutinize your newer dresses. Then we might at least be just slightly behind."

Raising an eyebrow at the question about gentlemen, Abigail again giggled. It seemed like such an odd sentiment to be coming out of her younger sister's mouth, a sister she still considered to be the baby of the family in so many ways. It did not matter that she was just slightly older than her, she had always felt closer to Annabelle in age than Alexandra. "Looking at men already? I suppose we are about old enough though, aren't we?" She rested her chin on her fist thoughtfully as she ran the faces of the young men of Trenton through her mind. Honestly, she had not paid all that much attention. She knew falling in love would be fruitless, and there was no chance of a match being arranged for her until Annabelle was married, or at least betrothed. Abigail was not much of a flirt herself, she preferred to leave that to her older sister, therefore none of the Trenton boys had really been scrutinized by her. Oh, she had of course noticed the more good looking ones, although she had never actually taken the time to imprint them on her memory. "There are the usual families in our circle of society, of course, although now one has to consider if they are Tory or not. It is a different world here now, I suppose. One can not just flirt with the nice looking man one meets on the street, one must first consider his social obligations now."