A Sentence of a New Life – Prologue
Scene: Ballroom in London, England.
In a regal ballroom, on a sultry night, a young woman stood next to a French window, gazing out at the dimly lit garden. She rested her head on the wooden frame, sighing softly, and taking a deep breath of the sweet smelling air. Around her white throat was a thin gold chain with a simple locket attached. Pink roses were placed charmingly in her fair hair, and her face had a sweet, shy look.
Emily shivered slightly, and pulled her thin shawl closer around her, the skirts of her simple but elegant silk dress rustled as she moved towards a basket of flowers against a wall. She glanced around the room casually, and caught the frank gaze of a young man who was across the room, leaning against a marble pillar. She held his eyes with her own for a minute, then blushed at her forwardness and turned away, casting down her lashes modestly.
I wonder who he is.... She thought, twirling a pretty iris flower in her hands, as she admired the woodwork and stone floor of the room.
The hum of the crowd and the pleasant sounds of clinking glasses and cutlery from another room, heralded dinner, and a general move towards the dinning room caught her in the flow. Someone brushed past her rudely, crushing the skirt of her dress, and breaking the iris She frowned, but held her head up as the rather plump and florid gentleman, with his wig slipping over one ear, turned around and apologised profusely and a little loudly, to a rather distantly cool recipient.
"My dear, I am ever so sorry. My name is John and please allow me to escort you to dinner, Miss..?"
"Emily Taylor, sir." the flustered man blurted out, bowing slightly. Emily shuddered as his plump hand grasped her elbow and guided her to the table, leaving a wake of disapproving glances, and more crushed skirts.
Emily sighed, and dared not lift her head as the well meaning if overbearing adorer started eating noisily. The table was loaded with good food. Stuffed turkey, mounds of mashed potatoes, delicate greens, fresh fruit, and many pies of all sorts. A glass of champagne was in front of her, but she didn’t touch it. With John nudging her sharply with his elbow every time he wanted to emphasise something he said, and a quiet, bored young lady on her other side, she didn’t noticed when the young man of the earlier acquaintance, settled into a chair across from her.
Emily picked at her food, tasting nothing, and was resting her head in her hand despondently, waiting for dessert, and trying to ignore the boring and repetitive self praise of her partner, when she overheard a conversation between two middle-aged wives, who were gossiping behind her.
“My dear, see that young man just there? Well, I’ve heard he has four thousand a year for income, and he’s going into the army soon.”
“You don’t say!”
“His father is in India, and is a great influence on the mines over there. Quite a good catch for any young lady, and I wouldn’t be surprised if my Eliza...”
The rest of the conversation passed over Emily’s head, but the news made her curious, and she lifted her head, only intending to see if she could spot the ‘good catch’ and again she caught the gaze of that young man she had seen earlier. She blinked, and searched his face,
Could this be the young man they were talking about? She wondered, wringing her hands nervously in her lap, and quickly looking to see that no one had noticed her discomfort. He smiled at her, and nodded his head, then turned to his neighbour and started discussing something, while it was Emily’s turn to stare at him. He was tall, fair, with broad shoulders and an honest looking face, with a handsome smile. She caught her breath, and then scolded herself silently.
Don’t be silly, Emily, why would he take notice of you? You're nothing but a merchants daughter, with two hundred pounds a year when you're married...
After dinner, John begged for a dance, so she agreed, silently loathing his fat, sweaty hands around her waist. He twirled her around, treading on her toes, and then begging for forgiveness before stumbling around again. After the first dance, he waddled off to drink with some other men in the lounge, and she sighed with relief as she sat on a chair and fanned herself with her program.
A rose had strayed out of its place in her hair, and she fixed it up with trembling fingers, the program slipping from her hand onto the floor. Before she could react, the young man who she had noticed before, dashed across the floor, and picked up the program, before gracefully handing it to her with a low bow. She quickly put a hand over her mouth, trying not to giggle, as some of the other young women looked at her enviously.
“Thank you,” she whispered softly, her eyes sparkling as she tucked the program into her waist band. The young man sat next to her, and after a few desultory comments on the weather etc, asked if she had been to the country lately. She replied that she had indeed done so, and there followed an animated discussion on the different counties, until Emily realised she had forgotten herself – after receiving a disapproving nod from her mother, and rather abruptly stopped talking. The young man looked a little confused, but recovered, and asked if she would dance. Emily nodded, her cheeks pink, and let him hold the tips of her gloved hand as they walked onto the dance floor.
As the waltz started, she marvelled at the grace and skill of his dancing.
A far cry, indeed, from John...she thought, laughing gaily, as her partner swung her around, nearly lifting her off her feet. He flashed his smile at her again, and Emily felt her heart pounding in excitement.
“You’re...you’re...a good dancer, Sir” she said, puffing slightly, as the waltz slowed a bit.
“Thank you miss, you are too...and also a pretty one” he said, winking at her. Emily blushed, and pulled back slightly. The young man laughed and spun her around again, and she collapsed on a seat, laughing, her hair flying, and her skirt looking worse than ever.
“Oh my, that was fun! But, I fear mama will dissaprove if I dance too much.” She said, her eyes still sparkling at the memory of that dance, as she discreetly smoothed down her ruffled appearance, and tried to look a bit more ladylike.
Her partner nodded seriously. He sat himself down in front of her, resting his arms on the gilt chair.
“What trade is your father in?” He inquired, leaning forward slightly, and a lock of hair fell over his forehead. Emily wanted to brush it back, be she refrained from doing so, and instead, raised her eyebrows, and then replied, “Well, after getting an apprenticeship as a clerk for a merchant in the harbour, he decided to go into the business himself, so now he has over twenty warehouses in England, and he sells flour, wool, linen, and other goods, to overseas merchants.”
“I see...and what about your history? Any great, fighting men?” he asked, chuckling
“Why do you want to know?” she asked, looking suspicious, and moving away from him slightly.
“Oh, just wondering...do go on” he said, encouraging her.
“Very well...Mr Taylor - my father, - his side goes back a fair way, with tradesmen and merchants, until my grandfather married well, and she helped get our family into society, and we managed to become more well off...but of course we were never poor in the first place” she said hurriedly, blushing.
“There, does that satisfy you?” She said, looking primly down her nose at him.
“Yes, quite. Now...” The young man was going to continue, but a page boy dashed into the room, shouting “A message for Mr Taylor...urgent!”
Mr Taylor handed the page a tip, then quickly opened the letter, and read it silently. His face went white, and he looked around, with a stricken countanance, then clutched at his heart and fell to the ground. The room became a confusion of people shouting for a doctor, and rushing around, getting in each others way. Emily jumped up, startled, and screamed, then rushed to her father. She pushed her way through the crowd around him, and dropped to her knees, taking his hand
“Oh father, can you hear me?” she pleaded, smoothing the hair from his sweaty forehead. He moaned, and tossed his head from side to side, mumbling incoherently. Some men with stretchers came in, and took him away, and left the family sobbing together, with shock and confusion. The young man was going to leave quietly, but he spotted the note that had caused all this trouble. It had become crushed under many feet, but he smoothed it out and read aloud:
‘Dear Mr Taylor,
I have bad news; I fear this will shock you.
All twenty warehouses have been burnt to the ground.
Someone had lit them deliberatly, and it must have been a well coordinated attack.
Nothing recovered.
All is lost.
Your unhappy servant,
Benjamin Oak.’
Mrs Taylor gasped, and nearly fainted; the housewife sat her down, and got out her smelling salts. The stricken woman sniffed, and made a face, then almost shrieked “Is that what it says...oh no, we are all ruined! We can’t keep our house, because of debts, that we were going to pay this year! Oh it’s too bad!”
Emily had covered her face with her hands. A servant gathered their things together, and handed them to the shaken women. Mrs Taylor was in shock, and Emily knew she should get her in bed as quickly as possible.
Emily took a last look at the grand building, before stumbling down the steps to the waiting carriage. The young man had been pacing backwards and forwards, till he stopped in front of her.
”I am very sorry. Please accept my deepest sympathy and I bid you goodbye” he bowed low, then went back inside, with one last look behind him. Emily waved slowly, then started crying again, as the carriage moved off
I didn't even get his name...
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There...what do you think? I thought I'd better do a prologue, because everyone was asking why Emily and Thomas were so close already.... ^_^ lol...anyway...here it is!
Should this be moved to the Romantic section??? 
I'm not sure...
) It's too bland.
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