It had been a long journey, from Harleston to Marcheford. Everyone was tired, even Philip, but he still looked forward to whatever place was going to be his new home, sort of. What Philip didn't realize was that he had no idea how to be a serving man... he'd worked on a farm his entire life. His hands were callused from work, and he had hardly ever bowed to anyone in his life. His aunt, who had come to pick them up, had babbled on endlessly throughout there trip about how to bow correctly, and they practiced every night. She insisted that he still bowed too stiffly. Today, even she was quiet, tired from the journey as well.

They were going to serve the Englefords, but that was about all that Philip knew about them. His aunt hadn't said all that much about them either - just kept going on about bowing and not looking all dusty all the time. As if he could help it. He was a commoner, how could he not be dusty? Plus, they were riding horses, and horses were fairly dusty also, in Philip's opinion. Not that he minded. He patted his horse, who was probably just as tired as the rest of them. They'd sold the farm to buy enough horses for them to make the journey. Martha was riding in front of him, basically asleep. He kissed the top of her head. He was glad that most of his family was here, but he was still sad that Roger was still back in their village. And so was their father, but that couldn't be helped. He had passed some time ago.

His aunt stirred when the Engleford manor came into view over the horizon. She pointed it out before going back to her silence, but everyone picked up the pace a little at the sight of it. They were almost there. Philip suddenly was nervous - something that he hadn't been in a long time, not since he had kissed Ella Crawford when they were fourteen. He didn't want to screw this up... but he didn't know how not to. Jesus, he wasn't made for the indoors. Maybe they'd let him work in the stables or something. Did he even know anything about horses?

He lost himself in his worries, and the day passed slowly, but closer, they did get. Finally, they approached the large house. Wow, thought Philip simply. He had never seen a house so big. Or so elegant. The closest thing he could think of was his church in his village, but even that wasn't as grand as this.

((OOC: You can have them enter or whatever if you want. I didn't really know how to go about meeting. :D))

Grace groaned inwardly, before rolling over onto her back, her shoulder feeling slightly numb from the weight of her own body that had been pressing against it in the night. After one more moment of simply laying there, Grace sighed, and sat up in her bed, looking around her room with a weary tiredness about her. Katherine, of whom stood in the left corner of the room, pouring rose water into a bowl for her to wash with, looked around and shook her head slightly at the sight of her - Grace always seemed to have her hair in an awful state upon her first moment of waking to whenever she could actually find the time to brush it. Katherine clicked her tongue in what Grace considered a somewhat motherly manner.

"Oh, come now, Grace. Don't just sit there as if there is nothing going on today," Katherine said, a slight irish accent lingering in the woman's voice. Grace raised an eyebrow slightly and sighed, swinging her feet over the side of the bed and standing up, straightening out the folds of her night gown. Running a hand through her tangled hair, Grace sighed and walked over to the divan that was in front of her vanity. ”I know, I know. Greeting the new staff today. I haven’t forgotten.” she responded.

Grace sat down on the divan, leaning over and splashing some of the rose water onto her face to clear it off. She sighed and looked at herself in her mirror. Mornings just weren't the best time for her, it seemed. They hardly ever went well, but she didn't mind so much - she had grown accustomed to the schedule of her mornings, so that, at first the mornings were bad, now every morning was bad enough that it had become part of her schedule - part of her normalities. Grace felt Katherine move behind her, and then felt the brush pulling through her hair - combing though the tangles. It hurt a bit, but she didn't flinch. It never took too long to get the tangles out of her hair, and a few moments later, her hair was already curled and pinned to the top of her head in an elegant way.

Grace stood after a moment, and slid out of her nightgown, and into a chemise. She reached down and tied it up the front. She held her hands up, and Grace slid the gown that she was to wear that day over her shoulders - it was a dark, rich crimson in color, and made of a rather fine damask material. Grace looked at herself in the mirror one last time, before nodding to herself and then to Katherine, and exiting her room, walking down the hallway, where all five of her brothers and her mother and father stood. Her father cleared his throat and looked away from her, but her brothers clapped her on the shoulder, and steered her down the stairs. ”Hey, hey, hey. Watch the hands, Piper.” ”Sorry love, youngest first. That would mean you, Gracie. Down and out you go.” her brother repeated, then pushed her out the front door. The children lined up from the youngest first, Grace, to the eldest last, Henry. Then her mother and father, waiting for the horses to stop at the very front of the house.