"A Young Girls Surprise..."

Diary of Lucy Whitehall, Port Dominion

This evening has been the most astonishing of my life!  I must write before the memory fades.

She has come—the Spanish Contessa! Her name is long and beautiful, like a poem:  Maria Theresa Isabella Emilia Lucia Gabriella Rosalina Liliana Paloma.  I had never seen a Spaniard before, and now one of such grandeur has stepped ashore in our very town!

I stood with Lady Eleanor, my stepmother upon the balcony and watched when she arrived.  The sky was blue-gray with some storm-clouds, still lingering, but still she shone. Her gown, though travel-worn, was of the deepest red silk, with black trim, gold lacing and finery, and her jewels caught the light even in the rain. 

 She did not flinch when the wind tugged at her veil—she looked as if she commanded the weather itself.  I could not take my eyes away!

Her trunks and chests were endless, carried by her many servants.  Great crates of wine and sangria, carved Spanish furniture so dark it seemed almost black, and such silks and boxes as I have only read of in books. The townsfolk whispered and stared. Some crossed themselves as if she were an omen.

Father says she must be watched, for Spain is no true friend to England, and though we have a fragile truce at sea, who knows when it may shatter. He believes she has come with some purpose hidden beneath her beauty. Mother says she will upset the balance of our society, that the ladies of the colony will not tolerate such a bold and foreign presence.  Yet I cannot believe her wicked.  She looked every bit a queen.

Oh, how I long to speak with her! What must it be to walk the streets and have all eyes upon you, to bear a name that sounds like a song, to come from a land of orange groves and golden churches?

I confess—I dream she might notice me, take me under her wing, perhaps even teach me a little Spanish.  How delicious to whisper secrets in another tongue!

And yet, upon a brief moment of when she glanced towards our manor home, when I caught her gaze—just once, fleetingly—I felt a shiver.  Her eyes are dark, deep, as if she knows things others do not. Secrets, power, perhaps even danger.  She is not like the ladies of Port Dominion.  She is something other.

I shall dream of her tonight.

Lucy W.