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Poppy Dashwood · April 20, 2022 – 4:25 PM

March 25, 1892 — The Painted Lady tea room, Hogsmeade

After yesterday’s success in conversing with Ms. Mountbatton, Poppy had very high hopes for the candidate she was set to meet today. Her Lonely Hearts informative was proving just the success Poppy had hoped it might. At this rate, she was very pleased to think that she might have a few introductions to make for her cousin, and that one of them might one day become his wife. She had entertained the thought of inviting those that she got on with and deemed acceptable to her debut ball and making the introduction there. Many of these ladies were already undoubtedly on her mama’s list of invitees, but how lovely would it be to have been the catalyst of her cousin’s future happiness!

Miss “E. M.” - as she’d signed her letters - was by far the most intriguing of those she had corresponded with, and Poppy was not be ashamed to admit she hoped this candidate was the one her cousin settled upon. Well, after the two of them met and decided to get along famously, of course. Miss E.M. had every qualification Poppy could have asked for, and she seemed upstandingly excellent in every way. Poppy also particularly liked that, similar to Ms. Mountbatton, she had written of her own accord and not had a mama inquire for her prospects. It showed a certain determination that Poppy admired; she knew her cousin needed someone beautiful, intelligent, and keener than keen to keep him in line.

Settling herself at a cozy table by the window, Poppy placed a bouquet of white daffodils (symbolizing new beginnings) and Austrian roses (thou art all that’s lovely), on the place setting across from her. This was her first test for Ms. E.M. — identification. Neither of them had shared their respective names over the correspondence, perhaps an oversight in some regard, but Poppy was ready to see if this young lady had the deductive reasoning and knowledge of florals any candidate for Mrs. Foxwood would require. Her Aunt Viola was a truly elegant woman to compare to; beautiful, kind, and generous while still showing the finest breeding of her class. Yes, it would be a true test to see how Ms. E.M. compared once they reached that stage. For now, Poppy was content to sit and wait patiently, eager at the prospect of meeting her favorite cousin’s potential new bride.

Estelle Malfoy / Elias Grimstone

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Atticus Foxwood

Estelle Malfoy · May 3, 2022 – 9:24 AM

Estelle had been dreading this moment all day. Oh, she could have written again to ask for a name once she had belatedly realised her mistake, but she felt it far worse to overtly address it (because she was clever and rational and entirely proper and she did not make mistakes) – so she had awaited another letter from the lady in question to reveal her identity instead. But none had come.

Were they still to meet? Estelle would not have forgiven herself for not going when there was even the slimmest prospect of a marriage at stake, so instead she had arrived deliberately early to be sure that she was first here, settling at a table to better scope out the ladies at the tea parlour today. She had given the other woman some sign: E.M. was no lie of her initials, and how many upstanding families were there whose name began with M? A comparatively short list of suspects to sift through. Conversely: “Excellence Required” gave her no clue.

But Estelle’s knowledge of society and who inhabited it was thorough, and she already suspected it was not a mother who had written, for the lady had nowhere mentioned her ‘son’ (mothers were simply too proud as a species not to take outright credit for their male offspring, Estelle fancied, even if they were resoundly mediocre a specimen). So she was looking for a sister or a cousin or an aunt, or some close friend, who thought herself a matchmaker: and presumably the lady would be sitting alone, which thankfully ruled out most of the customers in the Painted Lady already.

(Estelle had then ruled out another pair of remaining suspects for her own good – for even if it was Miss Dempsey she had been writing to, Estelle would rather die than ever debase herself by marrying into that family.) So that left only one or two ladies it might be: and she had been discreetly observing the brunette at the table by the window for some time, because there were flowers laying expectantly across from her and yet no company had arrived for her for some time. Estelle knew enough of flower language to read into them if she chose, but it would be a lie to say that she had. (In truth, it had simply been a choice between the lady with waiting flowers and the lady with no flowers, and Estelle was not selfless enough to ever choose the latter when she deserved to be spoiled just for showing up.)

So she fixed her gloves between her fingers in preparation, patted lightly at her hair, made sure her pale green day dress was smoothed down, as she stood and approached the girl.

“Good afternoon,” Estelle said smoothly, to disguise her dread of what blankness she might be met with if she was wrong; instead she offered a small feigned smile, as if she were the sort of person who was well-practised in making friends with everyone she met. She cast her eye down at the empty seat in a silent comment, I believe you are waiting for someone. “Excuse me – Estelle Malfoy,” she introduced demurely, in (what was hopefully an) explanation. “What lovely flowers those are.”

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Poppy Dashwood · May 3, 2022 – 6:12 PM

Poppy resisted the urge to tap her foot impatiently as she waited for Miss E.M. to make an appearance. It was a lovely, sunny day out and the light shining through the window was both reflective of Poppy’s hopes and dreams, and also slightly giving her a headache. She hadn’t yet ordered tea or anything to the table, as that would have been rude, but she wished she had something to fidget with. Even if it was just a teacup to pretend to sip from.

Finally, someone approached her anxious little corner of the world and Poppy couldn’t help but light up at the sight. The young lady that approached was… only vaguely familiar to her. She’d seen the woman before, but could not place a name despite her mother’s consistent drilling of faces and names and linages into her head over breaks. She was pretty though, in a more demure, mature sort of manner than the usual frilly debutante. Poppy straightened just a touch in her seat.

“A pleasure,” she replied, gesturing to the seat across from her. “You must be the excellent Miss E.M. I have been corresponding with regarding my cousin’s prospects.” She gave the woman a warm smile. “They are for you,” she added gently, pressing the flowers closer to... ah yes! That was it - Miss Estelle Malfoy. “A small gesture of goodwill, to show appreciation for your interest.”

Poppy waited for the woman to settle and then folded her hands graciously, the way she had been taught. She didn’t want to appear too eager or excitable to the excellent Ms. Malfoy, but instead mature and responsible. At least enough to be taken seriously regarding her cousin’s interests.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me,” she said then. “My name is Poppy Dashwood and I am very pleased to make your acquaintance. You, Ms. Malfoy, are by far the most brilliant lady I have corresponded with on behalf of my cousin. Knowing now your lineage, I have to admit it was rather silly of me not to have imagined, considering your excellent qualifications.” A small, twinkly little laugh escaped her.

Estelle Malfoy / Elias Grimstone

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Estelle Malfoy · May 21, 2022 – 3:53 PM

Oh. Oh. All was well! She was correct. She had been offered a seat. And already there was a lot to take in – the flowers, the appreciation, a cousin.

Estelle lowered herself into the chair, murmuring a thank you for the flowers and taking her chance, as she settled in, to discreetly survey her companion. Poppy Dashwood, she had just said: a Miss, to be sure, for she looked rather young to be married. Indeed, she looked young enough to still be at school; Estelle certainly hadn’t heard of a Poppy anyone on the social scene last year.

Estelle rather hoped this didn’t make her look foolish or desperate, conspiring with a young girl. Not that Miss Dashwood seemed too childish, here; she was perfectly poised, brisk and well-mannered and was saying things like you are by far the most brilliant lady. So she had impeccable taste, too!

Well, Estelle was most mollified. She even graced Miss Dashwood with another smile, this one actually sincere. (Two smiles, so soon upon meeting! Her relative better be worth the effort.) “Well, thank you,” Estelle said again, inclining her head slightly in approval. “And I am very pleased to make yours. And am delighted to be here; it is not every young lady who shows such enterprising methods to assist her family –” a rare pearl of a girl, indeed, to be so determined to take matters into her own hands; Estelle could respect that. “I daresay, I hope your – cousin, did you say? –” she added, raising her eyebrows to question the bachelor’s identity, “will appreciate quite how much effort you have gone to in his best interests.” At least it wasn’t a brother; she had heard of a Dashwood bachelor who was a halfblood, worked in experimental charms, and was rumoured to be something of a rake. If he were the prize on offer, Estelle would have whisked the flowers away and been gone from the table in a heartbeat.

Fortunately, she could only assume that Miss Poppy Dashwood, having acknowledged all her merits, knew the man who might actually be worthy of them. (She was trying her best not to seem too voraciously curious about him.)

Poppy Dashwood · May 23, 2022 – 5:21 PM

Poppy’s mother Georgiana Dashwood had made a point to force her eldest daughter into memorizing those faces and names of the most eligible bachelors this upcoming season, as well as those of the ladies and other family that made up the menagerie around them. The Malfoys were somewhere near the top of that list and Poppy would think her mother might be proud of her having made an acquaintance with one of the daughters so soon. Miss Estelle, if Poppy was remembering correctly, seemed like a very honest young woman indeed. Just the type of person Poppy would have liked to befriend, and hopefully - if all things turned out decently - introduce to her beloved Atticus sooner rather than later. Smiling demurely at Ms. Malfoy’s assessment of her endeavors, Poppy couldn’t help but nod.

“I’m sure he can appreciate how difficult it is to find a decent wife,” Poppy conceded, modestly. “He is marvelous: ever kind, affectionate, and proper as any well-bred gentleman ought to be. But I must admit, my interests are a touch jealous.” Here Poppy offered Ms. Malfoy a small smile. “I don’t doubt he will have success finding someone suitable enough himself, but I had rather hoped that his future wife - and my future relative - might be someone with the breeding, decorum and personality suited to advancing his interests and making him the happiest man possible.”

And it was true. From the outside, Atticus Foxwood was perfect in the eyes of the upperclass: he was a well-bred, wealthy, somewhat influential pureblood who had an impeccable bedside manner and no scandal in his family whatsoever. He could be a bit of a snob sometimes, Poppy supposed, but so could she. It wasn’t that terrible a vice, if it was the only one. From the inside however, Atticus was protective, affectionate, and impossibly sweet to those he adored. He was the type of man to go the extra mile, to risk it all, for a woman he loved. And that was why this search was so personal for Poppy. She didn’t want Atticus falling in love with the wrong sort that would lead him astray, nor did she want him to marry someone she herself detested. (That wasn’t to say Poppy didn’t trust his taste in woman, or society in general, because she did - but this was too large a gamble to leave up to him entirely.)

She was perhaps being a bit coy in not mentioning Atticus by name just yet, but Poppy was sure they would get around to it soon enough. Firstly she wanted to converse with Ms. Malfoy and determine a suitability between them. At least in as much as she could imagine from her perspective, though she did know Atticus better than frankly anyone else. (Save for Merlin, but that was neither here nor there.) As the waitstaff came over and settled about bringing them tea, Poppy nodded in Ms. Malfoy’s direction. “So tell me then, what qualities are you searching for in your future husband.”

Estelle Malfoy / Elias Grimstone

Estelle Malfoy · June 11, 2022 – 11:56 PM

Estelle listened with rapacious interest to the description of him, though she tried not to show any of it, just to sit demurely. Besides, she could not trust it: it was surely biased, from a family member. Although Miss Dashwood had just admitted a jealous interest – and Estelle’s mouth upturned briefly, knowingly, at that – because that admission was certainly bound to be honest.

She did enjoy someone who could be direct. Advancing his interests; Estelle’s posture straightened at that, a little less interested in making him the happiest man possible. An advantageous marriage and an excellent wife ought to be all he needed to be perfectly happy, in Estelle’s opinion, so she could not be too worried about that.

At least he didn’t sound like a lost cause – some antisocial, awkward bachelor – if Miss Dashwood was assuring her that he would have managed to find a suitable wife on his own. That was promising. Estelle would not have the patience for an incompetent fool.

The question of what she was looking for took Estelle by surprise, so she ran her gloved thumb alongside the edge of the tea menu for a moment before speaking. “Besides the description you have just given?” She half-joked with a small simper, as if the girl didn’t know any young woman would feel obliged to all kinds of sycophantic agreement in an interview of this kind. “I...” There was a faint line between her eyebrows as she thought, most seriously, of how to define the husband she was looking for. “I am sure I should only be happy with a man who is sociable in society, and proud of his place in it. A man who is responsible, who recognises his duties, cares for his family and protects their reputation, who yet has aspirations of his own and – well, integrity, I suppose.” Had she said too little or too much? Wrong or right? She didn’t know; but Estelle would be betraying herself if she didn’t make things plain now. “I could not bear to be married to a mindless rake,” she confessed, praying that Miss Dashwood’s cousin was not any of the above, “or a man who still has all the foolishness and follies of a boy.” She glanced up now, a little pink, almost abashed at her demands. “Do you suppose I am asking for too much?”

Poppy Dashwood · June 14, 2022 – 5:01 AM

Poppy listened with interest as Ms. Malfoy responded to her query. (She gave a small, agreeable smile at the young lady’s joke, knowing all too well there was only so much she could do so as to not seem too eager.) All of her qualifications were sensible however and described Atticus fairly well. Poppy nodded her approval. Her cousin was proud of his place in society and did nothing if not look after the reputation and interests of his family - Poppy herself could blindly attest to that. She didn’t know what aspirations he had beyond managing the Foxwood estate in Bath and restoring it, but he was a complicated man and all complicated men had ambitions.

Laughing then at the mention of Atticus being a rake, Poppy brought a hand up to cover her mouth delicately. There wasn’t any world in which she could imagine Atticus being good at flirting or deceiving young women for the fun of it; Anthony perhaps, but not Atticus. Neither was he particularly silly, in her mind, so nodding again at Ms. Malfoy, Poppy offered the woman a small smile. “I think you ask for the minimum any respectable woman could hope for,” she replied, honestly. “I apologize for my laughter, I simply can’t imagine Atticus as a rake. He’s not awkward, but he’s certainly not the type to try and flirt with young ladies simply for fun.” She conceded. Dropping her cousin’s name for the first time, Poppy waited to see if there would be any sense of recognition from Ms. Malfoy.

“Are you amenable to owls, Ms. Malfoy?” She asked, coyly then. This was the most important question. Atticus simply could not - would not, was more like it - marry a woman who did not love owls as much as he did. Or at least, tolerate them - and shower Merlin with the affection he deserved. (Because Poppy wasn’t sure there wasn’t a woman on this Earth that loved owls as much as her cousin did. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the thought.) Depending on the woman’s answer, the brunette was fairly confident she had found a suitable match for Atticus. She hoped the woman would think so as well.

Estelle Malfoy / Elias Grimstone

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Estelle Malfoy · June 20, 2022 – 8:22 PM

The girl’s nod of approval had become a barely disguised laugh, and for a heartbeat Estelle’s hopes plummeted: clearly she had said something moronic. She couldn’t see how, though, and her brow furrowed (slightly but sincerely) in case there was to be some quarrel about the qualities she sought. Estelle would staunchly defend every one –

Oh. Miss Dashwood was not laughing at her at all. Atticus wasn’t a rake! Not some cad who used his charm upon everyone: thank Merlin for that. A little new hope punctured through Estelle’s lungs at the prospect of him, an actually serious respectable man, and her faint frown became a small pleased smile before she so much as digested the name. Atticus. Foxwood? They were relatives of the Dashwoods, weren’t they? And pureblood, and – Mr. Atticus Foxwood, Estelle thought in great relief, was not the Professor. He was the eldest son, was he not? Better and better.

Sitting up a little straighter and taking a sip of tea, Estelle was still ruminating so profoundly on Atticus Foxwood that she barely registered Miss Dashwood’s next question, and she almost thought she had misheard it. “To owls?” She said, eyebrows high, with a bemused brightness. “Well, of course!” Owls were eminently useful as post-creatures, and she had had one all through school and Pendergast’s, and more dignified in bearing than other sorts of animals... “As pets, at any rate,” Estelle said, almost droll, “though perhaps not for a husband.” See – she could be witty, if she wanted. “Why do you ask?”

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Poppy Dashwood · June 22, 2022 – 12:14 AM

If there was one telling question that could make or break this interview, it was how Ms. Estelle Malfoy responded to liking owls. Atticus would not tolerate a woman who detested them and Poppy knew anything further would be a waste of time. Merlin was Atticus’ whole life, for better or worse, the spoiled little thing. (He was sweet at least, if a little self-centered.) If she didn’t like them, or thought them dirty pests, then this entire endeavor was doomed. Luckily, it would seem not! Ms. Malfoy even made the first joke all afternoon and Poppy couldn’t help but laugh her tinkly little laugh.

“I’m so glad to hear you say that, Ms. Malfoy,” she replied, earnestly. “My dear cousin has many strengths as a gentleman, but his perhaps fatal flaw is his adoration for his bird.” Poppy grinned as if this was the first secret shared between them and she hoped Ms. Estelle would take it as such. “Merlin, is his name, and he’s a darling little creature but perhaps a bit spoiled.” She nodded at the blonde then. “I do think he’d take a shine to you however, and with that approval Atticus is sure to fall in line.” She teased, this time on her own.

Hopefully the jokes would lend the exchange a little bit less formality. Poppy was really rather liking Estelle Malfoy and hoped to make a friend of her, even if her match with Atticus was not meant to be. Ms. Malfoy was exactly the kind of person Poppy herself could learn from, and the lady’s dignity and poise served her well.

Estelle Malfoy / Elias Grimstone

Estelle Malfoy · July 18, 2022 – 8:08 PM

“Oh,” Estelle said, raising her eyebrows in exaggerated understanding over her teacup as she raised it to her lips again, “I see.”

She ought to have known even the most eligible of gentlemen had some inane quirk about him – if Atticus Foxwood had been perfect, Miss Dashwood would not have had the time nor need to place advertisements and meddle with candidates, for he would have been snatched up at once. Still, Estelle supposed: as far as flaws went, a fondness for his owl was hardly the worst thing in the world.

She supposed she could suffer to marry a man who doted so much on a pet. As long as he doted all the more on her. For half a moment, Estelle had thought I do think he’d take a shine to you was Miss Poppy Dashwood’s approval bestowed upon by her cousin – but oh, no, she had meant Merlin, the owl. Estelle laughed along, shaking her head. “Well, I should be glad to meet him – meet them both, I mean,” she amended, with a conspiratorial glint. It was a little unorthodox, but if feeding an owl a snack or two was the way to win herself a husband, so be it. “That is,” Estelle added, looking up at Miss Dashwood with a flicker of false modesty and a small conspiratorial smile, sure that the girl did, since they were getting along so well – “if you approve of me too.”

She needed Poppy Dashwood to sing her praises and be a bosom friend, if this was to have any effect at all.

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Poppy Dashwood · July 19, 2022 – 2:39 AM

For a moment Poppy wondered if she’d overstepped in being so open about Atticus’ faults with Ms. Malfoy. She hadn’t meant to cast him in a negative light, but the poor lady might as well know the truth before she got in too deep! Luckily they seemed to recover and Poppy let out a small, relieved breath. She nodded as Ms. Malfoy said she’d be delighted to meet them, both Atticus and Merlin. At her next statement however, Poppy’s mouth dropped open into a little ’oh’ of surprise.

“Of course I do!” She replied, almost too eagerly, too quickly. Blushing, the brunette looked down at the table and attempted to school her features. “That is,” she tried again, looking back up. “I do very much approve of you, Ms. Malfoy,” she said delicately. “Atticus would be silly to look past all your virtues and…” she hesitated a moment, glancing again at the napkin in her lap. “Well, I do hope we can be friends, after all this.” Poppy offered the blonde a warm, genuine little smile and picked up her teacup.

“On the chance he turns out to be an idiot, my cousin, at least we will have gained something,” she teased gently. And, unfortunately, the chances were high to that end; higher than Poppy cared to admit. She knew her cousin better than anyone but she was not blind to his… idiosyncrasies.

Estelle Malfoy / Elias Grimstone

Estelle Malfoy · July 24, 2022 – 12:39 PM

She could tell Miss Dashwood was young and excitable from all her eagerness of temperament – Estelle might suppose that would fade with age and time out in society, but since she had never been of that character, even in school, she couldn’t say for certain. Society, like an unflattering funhouse mirror, did have a way of dampening people’s hopes and exacerbating their flaws in front of everyone else. But Miss Dashwood evidently had a clever streak for arranging all this; so perhaps she would find herself married and settled quickly, before all her passions and free-spirited tendencies overtook her.

So Estelle hoped – they could be friends for now, but if Poppy Dashwood proved an inch of trouble, she would have to cut her from her circles at once. (Estelle said, as if she had any actual circles of her own.)

But for the moment, it was so very pleasant to have a younger girl looking up to her with such free admiration that Estelle’s cool nature thawed. (Her icy heart had not melted entirely – not even chicken from an icebox would be defrosted from so miserable a warmth – but it was a warmth, nonetheless.) “I am much obliged to hear it,” Estelle said, and indeed felt equally, unnaturally, obliged to show it. So – once Miss Dashwood had put down her teacup again – she reached across the table and patted Miss Dashwood’s hand, companionably. “I shall be quite delighted to have you for my friend. And we must keep writing to one another, to be sure. You must tell me of all your schemes.” The last was a joke, but the rest was sincerely meant – they really must be friends.

As long as she kept extolling Estelle’s virtues, at least!

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Poppy Dashwood · August 14, 2022 – 4:48 PM

A soft glow radiated from Poppy as Ms. Malfoy acquiesced to friendship. How splendid! Despite any and every impression her cousin might make, Poppy was pleased to think that she might have found not one, but two new friends in Ms. Mountbatton and Ms. Malfoy. They were both excellent specimens, meeting her requirements and more, such that the diminutive brunette actually considered her little scheme a complete success already. If Atticus failed to find a wife this season it would not be at lack of her own attempts to aid him, or in fact society’s lacking eligible young ladies. (And if that ended up being the case, Poppy was determined to have words with him.)

She smiled at Ms. Malfoy’s soft pat and tilted her head demurely, not wanting to make a thing of it. Even still, the gesture made her swell with content and pride. “Oh yes,” she replied with a nod. “I shall keep you appraised of all my schemes,” Poppy’s eye glittered with mischief. “None the least how to ensure Atticus falls deeply, and dramatically in love with you.” Of course, she was kidding. Poppy would never dream of getting involved in their actual relationship more than just an introduction.

Estelle Malfoy / Elias Grimstone

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