Salvation of Ignorance

Chapter 1: Yes A Charming Man Indeed

It had been brought to her attention--at least once by anyone who caught her in private conversation--that Peter Talwin was a man of admirable charm and upbringing that should not be forsaken.

In accordance to each repeat of the previously presented white elephant, Phoebe Mae Barrettmore assured the adviser that she was indeed well aware and that she had no intention to speak otherwise. Yes, very aware.

As the daughter and only child of a small plantation owner, she was fortunate in being the sole heir to her childhood estate and father's fortune. However, she would be unable to legitimately run the plantation and would need a husband to give his name to the business. Specifically, a husband posing enough sentiment to run the plantation as a farce to hide the true intent: using it as a place to give minorities a free ticket into the new world of proclaimed liberty. Her home, America, land of the free white man.

A radical request, considering she had been formerly content with a future as a spinster living out her inheritance.

For Phoebe, marriage was a lottery on love. And Phoebe was adverse to gambling. There was an immense quantity of factors weighing down the number on a person's chance to find it. But if marriage was her design, instead of the intent being for love, she believed the best route was to approach courting with a mind of business: marry your social equal, and be satisfied should they be decent enough in persona. In time, children would be produced and give the spouses enough occupation to prevent minimal moments alone.

"Surely, you jest."

"No, madam. If I did, you would be in stitches with laughter."

A giggle squeezed past Phoebe's barely parted lips, and after receiving a nod of appreciation from the man, she ceased.

Yes, Mr. Talwin was a very charming man. More charming than a woman of her romantic realism could imagine into tangibility. It was a shame, however, that his manners faltered by his continued delay in arriving.

­­­­Balls were rarely attended by Phoebe, but through Mr. Talwin's interest in attending them, Phoebe found her own. The gentleman would never seek her at home, but when chanced upon each other in public, such as a ball, he would give her brief moments without his presence. Tonight, in his stead, she found company through an enlightenment of tales of western savagery by a visiting colonel. All true, she was reminded once more.

"—the redskin had me with spearhead to my Adam's Apple. Was saying the 'Our Father', I was. When, blam!"

The smacking of two dry hands diverted Phoebe's attention, from scanning the room, back to the older gentleman. "Young Timmy shoots a clean 'eadshot from outta the bushes."

She turned to her friend, Elinor Wade, who met her gaze with both lips tucked in her mouth. Poor Elinor was forced to bear the burden of contributing exchanges of ideas, for the only other person present was socially incompetent.

Their looks were initiated by the lack of comfort toward the topic of this exchange, but not even that could conceal the sympathy that Elinor held in her gaze for her friend. A white-elephant-inspired sympathy. Phoebe returned her smile to the colonel, deciding to devote herself to the usual endeavor in company of a stranger: making the man believe she was interested in his words so that he may tell others that 'Phoebe was a sweet girl with terrific listening skills'.

While the creases of her mouth burned sorely, Phoebe contemplated how to convince Elinor that sympathy was unnecessary. Yes, Phoebe was a little distressed by the absence of a certain gentleman, and yes, she knew that her incapability to utter words in public could wane Mr. Talwin's affections. And that such a wane could be the sole reason for his absence. But she grew offended by the implications that no effort was made on her part.