My life as a Period Drama
Your Period Drama Life -For Girls (Lovely pictures, very long and detailed)
No one thought much of you; you being the middle daughter in a family of five. Your older sister was given high expectations to marry into money, and your younger sister was petted and adored for her beauty. You, however, were left alone; virtually overlooked by everyone. Soon the differences between you and your sisters grew greater and more evident every day. Your sisters liked to sit idly and gossip about the latest nonsense; you preffered to be outdoors, wandering freely over the beautiful English countryside. You even ran sometimes when no one was looking.
You knew the name of every flower and tree you came across on your walks. (Don't expect any latin names, they annoy me.) Botany was a kind of hobby for you. Goodness knows you could never be forced to sit still long enough to learn anything related to musical instruments or stitchery.
One sunny afternoon... Wait. Why is it always a sunny afternoon just because it's a happy story? What if it was really windy? I like the wind! Ok, I'm changing it.
One particularly windy day, you decided to gather a bouquet for your windowsill, and so you set out to fill your arms with the choicest of sweet smelling blossoms. All was going well; you had almost collected more flowers than you could manage to hold with two hands, and were merrily tripping back home, when you did just that. Tripped. Well, it was more of a spraining of the ankle in a conveniantly placed ditched. Convenient for the story plot, but very inconvenient for your poor ankle. This injury made it very difficult for you to walk, and so you sat down on a fallen tree to rest a bit before trying to venture homeward again.
Since gentlemen in period dramas always seem to have the perfect timing, it wasn't long before one such gentleman emerged from behind a cluster of trees and offered you his assistance. You let him help at first, but taking his arm for support would force you to relieve yourself of half the load of wildflowers, and of course that just wouldn't do! So it was that you politely refused to take his arm, insisting that you could walk home without help. The gentelman smiled to himself and shook his head as you limped off in true heroine fashion.
After you'd gone about four feet, it became very apparent to you that you really could not make it home on your own, unless you planned on staying the night in the woods and returning home sometime by mid-afternoon of the next day. (That day could be a sunny afternoon if you like.) The gentleman kindly pointed this out, and for the sake of your flowers, he offered to carry you home instead. This was obviously a very acceptable arrangement. You would arrive home in plenty of time with your precious bouquet, and the close proximity to the gentleman would allow you to find out what brand of cologne he wore.
Back home, the gent took his leave once he saw that you were well taken care of. You presented him with a gift as a symbol of your gratitude for his services; one of the flowers you'd picked on your stroll. (I guess you liked his cologne.) You saw a great deal of each other over the next six months and become close friends. (Although you would have preffered something... ah... closer than friendship.)
Tragedy struck, though, when your scheming parents sent you away to keep a respectable lady friend of theirs company. The lady was very old and even more wealthy, and your parents saw this as an opportunity to get more money in the family. "She has no relatives to speak of. Perhaps she will die soon and leave you her fortune." Such were the words of your mother. And so you left, sadly unable to say goodbye to your gentleman friend because of the speed with which you were sent off.
You spent your days reading to the lady who was very kind, but cross over the fact that she could no longer walk about her lovely grounds as she used to.
One neither sunny nor windy nor rainy morning, (yeesh, it must have been really still and neutral) you were enjoying the roses in the old lady's arbor when a servant brought you a letter with unfamiliar handwriting on the envelope. Inside was a letter from your gentleman, asking you why you left and could you please come back? He also said that you were constantly on his mind and you must marry him so that you'll never have to leave his side again. You were about to put the note back into the envelope, when you noticed something else inside of it. You put your hand in and pulled out the flower you had given him when first you met. It was dried now, but there was no mistaking it. You thought the gesture so romantic, that you did marry him. Since your husband supplied you with all the money you really needed, you persuaded the old lady (with very little difficulty I might add) to give all her money away to charity, and leave not a cent to your family. In. Their. Faces.
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