London, 1830


    ?I am so jealous of you Ash! Tomorrow is the start of your very first season!” My little 10-year-old sister Jane sighed dramatically. She fanned her reddened cheeks, jumping up and down on the bed in our modestly decorated bedroom.


    It was the beginning of June and it was already hundred degrees with heat seeping through the heavy, thick velvet curtains. Once rich décor was now replaced with vacated spaces of portraits and still life paintings, mahogany closets and empty shells of disintegrating cabinets. All the exquisite pieces were bargained off in exchange for a few precious, desperately needed pounds. But the lack of extravagance bothered me little – far more troublesome where the ever-deepening wrinkles on my parent’s once youthful faces.


    I smiled at Jane’s bouncing blonde ringlets which surrounded her still childish face like an angelic halo.


    “You will meet your prince and fall in love. Just like Cinderella did. You remember when Mama read us about her?” Her eyes sparkled with excitement when she dived into the land of magical beings – the same beings that regretfully cannot stitch back our moth-nibbled garments.


    Still so na?ve. I envied her innocence and her yet unspoiled dreams.


    “Of course, I remember. So, you think I’ll get my own godmother? With a pumpkin carriage to ride in and a glamorous silky dress to wear?” I ruffled her hair and pulled out a leaf that somehow got caught in her rich mane. With a patient smile I turned to her innocent face. “You will soon become a Lady, Jane. I believe that prince would love to marry an educated and well-behaved young woman.”


    “But I had to save Misty! He cried and I had to climb a tree to get him down!” She whined.


    “I believe Misty could save himself.” Our old, shabby cat had more lives that anyone could count.


    “You know I love him; he is my only friend,” she sniffled.


    “Excuse me!” I playfully swatted her hand. “And what do you call me?”


    “You don’t count anymore. Soon you will marry a prince and abandon us,” she pouted at me, stubbornly stomping her foot. “You won’t care about us anymore, with all those silky dresses, exquisite Arabic horses and posh friends.”


    “Hardly,” I sighed heavily, trying to hide the fact that I didn’t want all those unnecessary and overly expensive possessions. “I will always be near you, and Mama and Papa of course.”


    “I want you to marry Jared, Ashlyn!” Her sweet green eyes were wide open, her hands gripping my shoulders in an almost frenzied plea.


    I tried to hide my embarrassment of her mentioning him as I quickly raised to my feet and smoothed out the invisible wrinkles on my cotton day dress. “Lord Jared,” I corrected her. “And no, he is like a brother to me, I don’t think he sees me as his possible future bride,” a treacherous blush covered my cheeks before I bit my lower lip to divert the attention elsewhere.


    “But he is your best friend’s brother! Wouldn’t that be marvelous?” She beamed.


    Yes, perhaps in a fairytale or in my wildest imagination we would be a perfect match. I’ve known Jared and his sister Edith ever since I was a mere toddler. We used to do everything together, we were practically inseparable. But these days Jared became a man and running around with two girls was quite inappropriate for a young gentleman like himself. He was quick to join the infamous clubs - gambling away his father fortune or indulging himself in scandalous pleasures I couldn’t even begin to imagine. Even if he’d hold any affection for me, our marriage would be rather impossible. He needed a spouse with a plump dowry that would cover the holes in the roof of his property which wasn’t properly managed over a decade - ever since their parents passed away. Jared as lovely as he was, certainly couldn’t care less that everything their ancestress built was falling apart.


    And sadly, the rich matron he so desperately needed wasn’t me. I wasn’t foolish or blind enough to know that our family’s wealth wasn’t nearly extensive enough.


    If my aunt Abigail wouldn’t kindly volunteer to sponsor mine and Edith’s first season, we would never have the chance to meet the eligible gentlemen for the holy union. We’ve already missed the last year when we both turned eighteen, which was originally planned to be our first debut. Nevertheless, better late than never I suppose. My Papa would’ve most definitely had a heart attack if I’d become an old maiden.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    It was not so much that I didn’t want to marry, but rather that I wished to taste the sensation of love and sweet forbidden desires all the sinful novels I’d read told me about. I was aware I was nineteen years old, therefore I should perish those impractical romantic thoughts out of my mind. I realized marriages weren’t based on love, they were meant to serve as a simple transaction between the families - a business deal between an eligible man and a woman. Satisfaction of carnal desires in exchange for a wealth and a social status.


    But yet, I still longed for more. I’ve loved Jared ever since we grew out of mud pies and jumping ropes and ever since he probed on his very fist necktie. We’ve always known that he would turn out to be a handsome man, but quite frankly, he was devastatingly dazzling. With his blond, neatly combed hair and icy blue eyes, he was a sight to behold. No wonder that every woman, no matter if young or aged, cranked her neck just to catch a glimpse of him.


    I closed my eyes and shook my head to banish the foolish thoughts. “You know me all too well Jane,” I sighed, smiling kindly at her.


    “Lady Jane! Cease with this childish behavior at once!” Mother’s otherwise bright eyes turned into ice, but their corners suspiciously wrinkled as she attempted to conceal the laughter in her voice.


    “Yes, Mama!” Jane obediently jumped off the bed and rushed to kiss the older woman on the cheek.


    “Now out with you! Papa is waiting for you in the stables,” she lovingly caressed Jane’s hair, before the little one bolted out of the room, screaming for Papa.


    Mother shook her head and wrung her hands in sheer desperation. “Will that child ever learn some manners?”


    “Don’t worry Mama, she has plenty of time to grow up. She might be a little untamed now,” I chuckled at my beastly little sister’s conduct or lack thereof. “But sometimes she can be wise beyond her years.”


    She nodded, her warm eyes carefully assessing me. “How about you Ashlyn?”


    “Whatever do you mean?” My eyes widened in mock horror. “Well since I am to be introduced to the ton, I do believe my manners are quite pleasant, are they not?”


    “Britain’s high society won’t believe their eyes when they see the new, striking debutante,” she announced loudly before she circled around me.


    “Mama, don’t you think you are exaggerating a little? Do you realize how many young and beautiful women will be there? I am sure gentlemen won’t even notice my presence. I might be mistaken for a plant or something equally ridiculous.”


    She gazed at me as if I completely lost my wits.


    “And even if they do, I can only hope I won’t stutter or trip over myself. Surely after that there will be no wedding proposals, only a one-way ticket to Bedlam,” I giggled at the disgraceful thought that crossed my mind.


    Mother clasped her hands behind her back and looked up at the ceiling with anguish. “Hush, dear. Those poor souls,” she ushered with a faint tone before she gathered herself. “I am quite certain your dancing card will be filled the minute you set your foot in the grand chamber of the formal ball.”


    “Your faith in me is astonishing Mama,” I shook my head in disbelief. “Besides, we both know I have to be practical and calculating with the choice of a dance partner. We wouldn’t want a gentleman calling on me with empty pockets, would we now?” I stated bitterly.


    She raised her chin when she sensed my ineptly covered distress. “I am so sorry dear. I wish nothing but the best for you - a life filled with love and laughter. Believe me, these are the things I want for my daughters. You and Jane mean more than life to me.”


    “No, it is me who should be apologizing. That was rather selfish of me. I know that father’s investments backfired Mama, we are tight for money. But what is done is done, and now it is my duty to help you out,” I grasped her hands in mine, squeezing them gently. I noticed how older she looked, filled with bothersome thoughts that plagued her mind. But no matter the wrinkles, she was still one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. Her bronzed, smooth skin and long jet-black hair showcased her Greek heritage. I was proud I was handed down her exotic looks, appearing rougher and wilder than my angelic sister, who on the other hand looked exactly like father. Mother’s eyes were like mine, smaragdine, pretty much in contrast to our sun-kissed skin tone.


    Whilst my sister’s hair was shorter and curlier, mine was long and straight, reaching down to hug the line of my waist. I never wore them loose of course, that would be considered inappropriate. But I did enjoy when Jane or Mama brushed or braided them when we retreated in the quiet privacy of our rooms.


    “I am so proud of you Ashlyn. You grew into an intelligent young lady, but still, it shouldn’t be your burden to carry,” her fingers lightly brushed across my cheeks. “I know how much you adore that boy.”


    I looked away in embarrassment, my cheeks burning under the heaviness of her perceptive gaze. “Apparently everyone notices but him,” I mumbled under my breath.


    “Ashlyn…” Her eyes watered.


    “No. It’s all right Mama. I promise it is nothing more than a girlish infatuation. When I find an eligible gentleman, he would be long forgotten,” I bit my lip, not daring to look straight into her eyes in case she spotted my poorly covered lie.


    “I hope for your sake it will be this easy, I really do,” she grabbed the bronze door knob, her head hanging low. “I can promise you one thing. We will choose the man worthy of your heart.”


    “Oh Mama,” I clicked my tongue. “Shouldn’t I be worthy of him?” A soft smile slowly spread across my lips. “I only wish he would be good to me. Like Papa is to you. That is all I desire. I cannot imagine marrying a short-tempered and evil man,” the latter made me shudder with fright.


    “We will choose the one that will suit you the most,” mother put her hand on my shoulder and gave me a squeeze of encouragement. “Now come, supper is almost served.”