(COMPLETED)
It's 1817 and there is nothing more a woman wants than to marry a rich man and live a life of comfort.
But not Nancy Brooks. Having spent half her life helping her mother run her laundry shop and the other half in the local library, Na...
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Oxford, England
November, 1817
"Can you at least give it a bit of consideration, Ma?" The girl was young, no older than twenty. Tears glistened in her eyes as she fought to keep calm. "I have been to every single ball for the past two seasons."
"And you will keep going to every single ball of every season till you succeed in finding a suitable match." Her mother was busy pulling and tightening the young girl's dress in various places, trying to decipher if it fit adequately.
Nancy Brooks stood in one of the shadowy corners of the dressing room of House Hilcrest, watching with a strange fascination as the young Emma Crauford tried to persuade her mother, Lady Crauford, to give her permission to not attend a certain ball. Part of her wanted to do nothing more than use her own persuasion skills—which she was sure were far better than Emma's—to make Lady Crauford listen to her daughter. Another part of her wanted to lash out at the young girl for being so meek and timid. Nancy thought that if she were in her place, she would never put up with any balls she didn't want to attend. She would not let anyone tell her what to do.
"Besides," Lady Crauford continued, "we are the ones hosting this ball. What would people think if the Crauford's own daughter didn't show up to this ball?"
"Nothing." Nancy was happy to notice that there was now a spark of anger in Emma's voice. "They would think nothing. And even if they did notice, why do you and Papa care so much?"
Lady Crauford sighed. "Emma," she said, with the air of explaining something to a little child, "you and your sister must have honorable marriages in upper-class families. This is the way it is, and there is nothing you or I can do to change that."
It was a well-known fact that Craufords did not have much money. Their social standing was only the result of their strong history as one of the oldest and proudest families of England.
"I don't want to marry any strange man I don't even care for."
It was then that Nancy decided she had heard enough. Clearing her throat, she stepped forward. The two women turned to look at her in surprise, as though they had forgotten she was still there.
"If the dress is all right, do I have your leave to depart, Lady Crauford?" Nancy said in her politest voice.
"It fits quite well." Lady Crauford stepped a few feet back to admire the dress on Emma's petite form. "Tell your mother I will be paying her a visit on the morrow. I would like a few more dresses before the month is over."
"I will let her know. Lady Emma," Nancy said as she bowed to the young girl. "Lady Crauford." She repeated the motion. Then she made her way to the door, making a concentrated effort not to break into a run. She walked down the large hallways and staircases and through the fancy doors of House Hilcrest, unable to stop herself from admiring the intricate designs carved into the wooden doors and window frames. When she reached the front door, she wrenched it open and stepped into the huge garden outside. It was full of tulips and daisies and other varieties of flowers whose names Nancy did not know. Squinting against the sunlight, she made her way down the pathway and began to walk home.
