Post by Deleted on Nov 25, 2022 21:13:37 GMT
harriet & emily.
As the oldest of James Talbot's children, and the only one out in society thus far, Harriet knew she needed to find a perfect match. She needed to find a gentleman with a title, with money and land, someone who would treat her well. She had a decent dowry, and would be happy to quickly sire an heir – whoever she married never needed to know she was in no way attracted to him. He never needed to know that she'd always been more drawn to other young ladies than she was to gentlemen. Nobody needed to know that, for the ton would never take well to that.
Thus far, that had been fine. She played the part well: dressed as she was told to dress, spoke as she was told to speak, and acted as she was told to act. She was, for all intents and purposes, the perfect noble daughter. While it wasn't her first season, the previous season had been something of a soft start: she hadn't attended every ball, hadn't been seriously pursuing any suitors. This season would be different, she was determined.
Lord Fife had proved to be a perfectly acceptable dance partner, though it wasn't until she turned from him that she saw real perfection. Brown eyes landed on her from across the room, and Harriet's mouth went dry. She couldn't have seen her before, for she'd remember that face anywhere. Staring was neither polite nor what was expected of her, and she certainly didn't want to insult or freak the brunette out...but her eyes were locked on Emily, and it almost felt like she was floating towards her. She hadn't considered what she would say to her, but it was perfectly normal for young ladies to approach each other, was it not? Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic. "Wonderful evening, is it not?"
Thus far, that had been fine. She played the part well: dressed as she was told to dress, spoke as she was told to speak, and acted as she was told to act. She was, for all intents and purposes, the perfect noble daughter. While it wasn't her first season, the previous season had been something of a soft start: she hadn't attended every ball, hadn't been seriously pursuing any suitors. This season would be different, she was determined.
Lord Fife had proved to be a perfectly acceptable dance partner, though it wasn't until she turned from him that she saw real perfection. Brown eyes landed on her from across the room, and Harriet's mouth went dry. She couldn't have seen her before, for she'd remember that face anywhere. Staring was neither polite nor what was expected of her, and she certainly didn't want to insult or freak the brunette out...but her eyes were locked on Emily, and it almost felt like she was floating towards her. She hadn't considered what she would say to her, but it was perfectly normal for young ladies to approach each other, was it not? Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic. "Wonderful evening, is it not?"
Emily Davenport | tag |
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