Definition
: one that has recently or suddenly risen to an unaccustomed position of wealth or power and has not yet gained the prestige, dignity, or manner associated with it
French has been generous in providing us with terms for obscure folks who suddenly strike it rich. In addition to parvenu, French has loaned us nouveau riche, arriviste, and roturier, all of which can describe a rich person of plebeian origins, especially one who is a bit snobby. Those colorful and slightly disparaging terms for the newly moneyed clearly show their French heritage, but it may be harder to see the French background of a term Massachusetts locals once used for coastal merchants made rich through the fishing trade: codfish aristocracy. Codfish comes from Middle English (beyond that its origin is a mystery), but aristocracy passed into English via Middle French (it is ultimately from Greek aristos, meaning "best").
I stared at the minuscule serving of what appeared to be a small, snowball sized and shaped amount of mashed potato and several tiny sausages that were more suited to being served on sticks and passed round at an eighties theme party. I glanced up in case a pineapple studded with cheese cubes was about to make its way over to my table as well. Nope, sadly not. Apparently this doll sized mockery of a main dish was to be my dinner.
"Um, excuse me." I said uncertainly. The super fancily dressed waiters at the super fancy restaurant had been looking down on me from the moment I stepped through the doors. I half suspected they wanted to run their white gloved fingertips across my shoulders and sniff snootily when they discovered dirt, exactly as they had suspected. I knew my clothes were clean, as the butler I had hired would not let me leave the house without being completely immaculate. It was bad enough his new master had only acquired his position through wealth and not lineage, he would not allow anyone to question is abilities as a top notch butler by allowing them to comment on my state of dress.
"Yes?" The waiter drawled. If he look any further down his nose he'd make himself cross-eyed. The thought cheered me up a bit. Maybe if it got so bad, he'd walk into one the candle candelabras dotted about the place and set himself on fire. The nasty aftershave he'd apparently bathed in would certainly serve as an excellent accelerant.
I shuffled my hands in my abundant petticoats. Apparently, my butler had seen fit to dress my lower half up like a cloud today. At least it was comfortable to sit on.
"It's just that, well, I ordered bangers and mash."
"Which is what we have served to you my Lady." He sneered. "Despite it not being on the menu."
I looked down at the insulting small portion. This dinner was costing me enough for a weeks' worth of groceries back in my old life.
I missed my old life very, very much. Yes, a lot of the time I spent it starving, cold, covered in blood and trying not to die, but at least I didn't have stuck up serving boys constantly implying I didn't belong here, despite the fact that they didn't either and I could buy them, body and soul, from what constituted my pocket money.
"Is it not to your liking?" He sneered again.
I'd had enough. I stood upright, slamming the back of my chair, with no small sense of satisfaction, into the the snooty waiter's legs.
I slapped a wad of bills down on the table and said coldly. "Sorry, but i think I'll try somewhere that doesn't makes their customers pay for the privilege of starving them."
Leaving the waiter trying to hobble after me, I swept out of the restaurant.
I marched all the way back home (if you could call the ridiculously impersonal, recently purchase (outright) town house home) and started to tear off the many, many, many, layers of fripperies and lace I had been forcibly confined in.
"Walter!" I bellowed.
"My lady." He appeared, ghost like, behind me (dear god my employer would have killed (literally) to get a man with talent like Walter's on his team). "Do you require assistance?"
I grabbed one of the display knives off the wall (at least nobility has some decent decoration ideas, although I'd never let my precious babies get blunt like they did) and started slicing off my layers, ignoring how Walter winced at the waste. Heck, normally I would be wincing at my rough mishandling of an outfit that, if pawned, could have got me a week's stay at a semi decent hotel with meals and baths included.
But today had just been too much.
Finally, I was down to my sensible close knit underwear - warm, dark coloured, water resistant and easy to move in. Old habits did, indeed, die hard. Especially if they had saved your life on more than one occasion.
"I want some beans on toast Walter."
"My lady, I don't think we have any of those in..."
"Walter. I want. Some beans. On toast. Maybe with a fried egg and grated cheese on top. If we don't have any in the pantry, I'm sure I have enough money that someone can go out and buy some."
"But, my lady..."
"Walter. I have had a very bad day. Don't push me on this."
Walter, to his credit, simply bowed and walked off. I could certainly appreciate a man who knew when he was beaten.
I sighed and made my way up the stairs. I had been working my entire life, from the age I was large enough to carry a knife and knew enough to not grab the pointy end. My entire life goal had been to earn enough money to both buy my freedom and then not have to worry about money, food or shelter for the rest of my life. I had taken some truly hideous jobs to attain this - jobs that no one else would touch with a ten foot barge pole, simply because to do so meant certain death. But I had done the. I had earned my rewards and my freedom.
I had been free and wealthy beyond most people's wildest dreams for about six months now - and I'd hated very second of it.
Well, maybe not everything. I loved waking up in my warm comfy bed. I loved my well stocked pantry - a pantry that could be restocked at any given moment simply by uttering a request. My luxurious bathroom. My closet filled with clothes that hadn't been chosen for how well they hid blood. My Fort Knox of a home to which I had added yet more security features - a few of them I had even created myself for extra nastiness. I loved being warm, well fed and safe.
What I hated was everything else. Had I known what utter shits the upper class were, I'd have arranged it so I was a recluse out in the country. But I loved the theater, the museums, the ballet, the orchestra and the abundance of book shops. I'd wanted to be in town so I could at last indulge in all my hobbies that I'd put off for so long. At last, I could watch a play in the comfort of my own seat, rather than sneaking up to the rafters of the building and trying to catch a glimpse of the actors.
But the bloody aristocrats were ruining it all. They sneered at my unknown name, whispered behind my backs, even jostled me, me - and I just stood there and took it. They basically made it impossible for me to be comfortable anywhere they were. I'd avoid them but they seemed to see the Arts as some sort of social requirement and keep turning up. They didn't even watch the play in front of them, instead seemingly obsessed with catching a mate, catching up on the latest gossip and sneering at that 'funny little creature' (me). As evidenced in the restaurant, even the waiters were sneering at me.
It didn't help that no one knew who I was, where I came from and, most importantly, where my money came from. All they knew was that I had earned it, not inherited it which, to them, was all they needed to condemn me as an outsider and make my new life a misery.
I wonder, had they known I was once the most feared assassin on several continents, would they be so quick to condemn me - or would they rather start begging for their lives? A small smile crossed my face at the thought.
Would it be really bad to commence a personal death vendetta against a waiter? Really?
A knock on the door announced my beans on toast.
"Thank you Walter." I said, slightly guiltily as I saw he carried my shredded dress over his arm. "I'm sorry for my rude behavior earlier."
Completely out of his normal stoic character, he chuckled. "My lady, truly you are an odd one."
A hurt expression crossed my face before I could smother it.
"In a good way my lady," he added, "most would not even consider that they had done anything that required an apology, let alone to a mere butler like myself."
"There is nothing mere about you." I said hotly, annoyed that a mere waiter could think well enough of himself to snub me and yet my own butler didn't. I started to worry that my own nose dive of self confidence was catching.
"My lady." He hesitated. "I know that the, ah, upper crust has not been as welcoming to you as you would have liked."
I let out an unladylike snort. Walter winced but ploughed bravely on."However, it is in part due to the fact that they are bored and there is no other diversion to be had. Should another diversion be offered to them, I'm sure they would jump at the chance."
"Such as?" A murder spree? Oh God, please say a murder spree.
"A ghost?"
"A ghost?" I repeated blankly.
"Quite. Many aristocrats rack up quite a few, ah, indiscretions in their lifetime. I am sure most of them will have a skeleton or two in the closet. Drag that skeleton out of the closet and dangle it in front of them and, well, I am sure they will not be able to think of anything else. Aristocrats are very superstitious my lady - they would be more than willing to believe in the existence of a vengeful ghost that haunts them, rather than say, believe for a moment that the cunning machinations of a living opponent could ever get the better of them."
"A ghost." I said again, mulling it over.
"A ghost." Walter said firmly. "Present one to them, present several to them and they will talk of nothing else. Scare them badly enough and they might not even wish to attend badly lit places, such as the theater and opera, for example."
"A ghost....Where would I get a ghost?" I mused out loud, already seeing the answer in my mind's eye.
"I am sure you have more than adequate skills from your previous line of work to accomplish this my lady."
I blinked. I had never told Walter my previous occupation - for obvious reasons. Apparently butlers really did know everything.
I grinned at him. "Well then Walter, let the games begin."
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