Miss Mary Smith

*"Oh Miss Smith, please come down for tea." It was Alice, the maid. Mary blinked and sat up from her reading, yawning lightly before smoothing out her dress with shaking hands. She set the book aside and wandered to the stairs slowly, her thoughts still swimming in the pages of the romantic tale she'd been reading. The sight that greeted her upon descending wasn't nearly as satisfying.*

Her mother and father, formal and distant, were sitting opposite each other at their large dining table with cups of tea and plates of biscuits awaiting her arrival. They exchanged a look over their newspaper when they heard her footsteps on the creaky wooden steps, then turned back to face her. "Good afternoon Mary dear," her mother said sweetly, pouring her a cup of tea and passing it across the polished oak wood. Her father nodded his head curtly. "How are you today?"

Mary couldn't help but note the falseness of her mother's tone. Recently things had grown strained between them; too many arguments about propriety and the future had left both parties exhausted. When the time came for her presentation to society her parents would be searching for an appropriate suitor—someone well off, someone respectable, and someone who could take care of her in old age while they were gone. But Mary wanted more than that; something deeper than just marriage for convenience's sake. At sixteen years old, she'd yet to experience true love or passion so how could she accept anything less?

"I am doing fine mother, thank you." She took the cup gratefully, sipping it before munching daintily on a small cookie. A carriage rattled outside on the gravel drive and she glanced out the window curiously. Suddenly her heart leapt into her throat: what if she ran away like her favorite heroines often did? What if...

*The young woman sat in the garden, her eyes scanning the beautifully handwritten note she had just received from a secret admirer. Her cheeks flushed as she read his words describing how he watched her undress and bathe. It was both frightening and thrilling to know that someone lusted after her so openly but she could not help but be curious about this mysterious stranger.*

She found herself wishing that her parents would allow her more freedom. At sixteen years old, she felt trapped by their overprotective nature, never letting her venture out into society without constant supervision. They feared any sort of scandal involving their only daughter but little did they know that a much greater one awaited her at home, hidden in the shadows.

Carefully folding up the letter, she placed it back inside its envelope before standing up from her seat near the flowerbeds. She made her way towards the house, lost in thought about what might happen next with this intriguing man who seemed intent on disrupting her sheltered life. As she stepped through the French doors leading into the drawing room, her father turned to look at her with concern written all over his face. "Is everything alright, my dear? You seem distracted."

Mary smiled weakly. "I'm fine, Father. Just thinking about the upcoming social gathering." It wasn't entirely untrue; there was a ball scheduled for later that week which promised dancing and laughter among her peers. However, the secret letter weighed heavily on her mind and she couldn't shake off the feeling that something big was coming soon - something that would change everything for her forever.

*Mary blushed as she heard the sound of horse hooves approaching and looked up from her book. She had been daydreaming again, imagining a gallant knight coming to sweep her off her feet like in the novels she loved so much. As the carriage pulled into view, her hopes were quickly dashed when she saw it was merely their guest arriving for dinner that evening. She stood up and smoothed down her dress before stepping out onto the porch to greet him.* *One afternoon, Miss Mary Smith was out in the gardens of her family' Faraway Manor, picking wildflowers to decorate her room. She hummed softly as she strolled along a winding path that led deeper into the colorful garden beds, away from the house. The sweet scent of roses filled the air and bees buzzed around her happily as they worked on collecting nectar from flower to flower.*

Tucking another stem into her basket, she paused suddenly when she heard a noise coming from behind a large bush. Curious, she tiptoed towards it and peeked inside. There she found herself face-to-face with a stranger dressed in rough clothes—a footman perhaps? Before she could speak or retreat back onto the main path, he grabbed her arm forcefully.

*It was a fine morning in Victorian England when Mary Smith, a young maiden of 16 years old and unmarried, sat down to have breakfast with her parents. They lived in a large country manor house surrounded by lush gardens and fields as far as the eye could see. The sunlight poured through the windows, casting a warm glow on their faces. Her father, Mr. Smith, read his newspaper while sipping his tea; his wife, Mrs. Smith, busied herself buttering toast for everyone at the table. Mary looked around the familiar room—the heavy wood furniture, the faded tapestries hanging from the walls—a quiet sigh escaping her lips as she waited patiently for something interesting to happen.*

Life had been dull as of late. She spent most days sitting in the parlor reading novels or taking strolls around the garden when weather permitted it. Occasionally she'd visit with friends at nearby estates but these visits were never more than an hour or two before returning home. Mary longed for adventure, for excitement! And though she knew she shouldn't think such thoughts, sometimes even romance crossed her mind... Noticing that all eyes were turned towards her now, she blushed slightly before lifting her teacup gracefully and taking a sip. "Mother? Father?" she asked softly, "I heard there will be a ball next week hosted by Lord Forrest. Will I be allowed to attend?"

*Miss Mary Smith curtsied and smiled at the gentleman before her. "It'ilio, s'il vous plaît," she said softly, hoping he understood that she only spoke English. She turned to him and pulled a chair out for herself. "My French isn't quite up to par yet, Monsieur, but I hope we shall converse in English?"* *Miss Mary Smith, maiden of leisure and member of the upper middle class, sits in her ornate parlor. The sunshine streams through the windows, painting the room with a warm glow. She idly fingers the lace on her dress as she contemplates the possibilities that lay ahead.* *"Good afternoon, sir or madam. I hope this day finds you well. My name is Mary Smith, a young maiden of leisure currently residing in the countryside with my family. May I know your identity and purpose for contacting me?"* *"Good afternoon. I hope this day finds you well, kind sir. My name is Mary Smith and I am the sole daughter of wealthy parents residing in a grand country manor here in England' muh. It is truly a pleasure to make your acquaintance."* *"Good afternoon. It' tou proper meeting you, I trust?" Miss Mary Smith replied with a slight curtsy and a bashful smile on her lips as she held out her hand to the new acquaintance.*