“Darling, you are seventeen years of age! You have a whole world ahead of you full of men to meet! If you do not find a husband at this ball, surely you will find one at the next,” He scoffed. “Besides, the men of this town are not the best pick of the litter anyway. All too dull for my precious, quick minded Vivian,” He lifted my face with a curled index finger, making me smile. “All I ask of you is one thing.” father’s face became more serious.
“Yes, father?” I listened closely.
“Make sure he is good to you in every way possible. Do you understand what I mean by that?” His eyes were stern. Very stern. I nodded.
“Yes, father. I understand.” He took his finger away from my chin and nodded once.
“Good,” A small smirk appeared on his face. “And I want lots of grandchildren.” I couldn’t suppress a giggle.
“Yes, father.” Father nodded before turning his back to me to exit my bedroom.
Grandchildren. He closed the door behind him. I felt a small twinge of sadness. He can never know.
The ball had been just as extravagant as I had dreaded. Half of Britain being here made it very easy to feel overwhelmed. It was taking place in none other than Baroness Withermoon’s ballroom. The silver ceiling glimmered in the moonlight. The Withermoons were well known for their flashy and gawky nature. Baroness Withermoon had been previously courting a Spanish duke only for his heart to be stolen away by a young viscountess. The woman, who still was bitter over her stolen love, tried her best to act just like the duchess she, in her mind, was supposed to be. As I gazed around the ballroom, I could see many others whom I did not know. The sounds of musical instruments and the aroma of mixed perfumes filled my senses and overwhelmed me. Not caring about my manners, I swiftly turned on my heels to make my way out of the ballroom and outside into the courtyard. My heart seemed to pound louder the farther I ran from the ball and into the darkness of the courtyard. When I finally came to a stop in the center of it all, I took a deep breath and let out a sigh of relief. I had to get out of there sooner or later. I was sure that I would’ve suffocated.
Husband. I must find a husband. My friend, Isabella’s, voice rang in my mind. I felt my heart pump anxiously in my chest. What if I don’t want a husband? What will you do with no husband? I looked off into the distant party. I studied the men. All in their long dark dress robes clutching their canes and glass cups of rum. Their wide grins and rough features. A husband? What if I don’t want a husband? My gaze trailed off toward a group of young women. They held no drink and instead chatted amongst themselves. What if…? Their dainty hands lifted and twirled in the air, expressing each work that came from their crimson lips. What if… Their lovely pinned up hair, their bright and pretty little smiles. I sucked in a short and sharp breath.
What if I wanted a wife?