Moar Original Fiction
Title: None, as of yet.
Rating: G, for now, unless you get a few implications.
Type: Maybe multi-part?
Genre: Mystery
Warnings: ...nothing, unless you can read between lines.
Disclaimer: These people are not real. They are a product of my imagination.
Frederick was not quite sure how he was going to deal with the current situation. It wasn't proper for any gentleman to ever be in.
The way he sounded when you brought it up was quite interesting, and his friends and sisters teased him viciously about it. You would think the problem would involve illegal horse races, perhaps bear baiting, or spending excessive amounts of money on pure alcohol. However, Frederick was not spending a shilling on his new addiction. Hearing about it was, truly, an easy way to get the normally aloof man to blush a deep crimson, as if he had been out in the snow for half the day.
That addiction's name was Hattie Redfield.
She wasn't quite like the other women he had met the last social season, having instead kept her mingling to the sidelines, not touching anything that she was given, instead politely passing on the kind offer. There was a certain grace about her that he oughtn't focus too hard on.
After all, she was arranged to marry someone else when she came of age. Unfortunately, that had been two years ago, when he had first met her.
Frederick was accompanying his sister to the final party of the season, with hopes of (finally) finding a good suitor to (at last) hand her off to, when all of a sudden, he had found himself with an armful of sixteen-year-old. She excused herself politely, with that certain air of grace, before moving out into the night, bypassing the carriages. At that point, he had thought her townhouse was nearby and did not think a thing of it.
It had caused quite a stir with her fiancé, however, when he noticed her missing, though he had tried his damnedest to cover it up from his guests, likely to avoid the embarrassment.
Two seasons and what felt like countless balls later, Lillie still lacked a husband, and so did Hattie Redfield.
He knew why for Lillie. What he couldn't figure out was Hattie.
Rating: G, for now, unless you get a few implications.
Type: Maybe multi-part?
Genre: Mystery
Warnings: ...nothing, unless you can read between lines.
Disclaimer: These people are not real. They are a product of my imagination.
Frederick was not quite sure how he was going to deal with the current situation. It wasn't proper for any gentleman to ever be in.
The way he sounded when you brought it up was quite interesting, and his friends and sisters teased him viciously about it. You would think the problem would involve illegal horse races, perhaps bear baiting, or spending excessive amounts of money on pure alcohol. However, Frederick was not spending a shilling on his new addiction. Hearing about it was, truly, an easy way to get the normally aloof man to blush a deep crimson, as if he had been out in the snow for half the day.
That addiction's name was Hattie Redfield.
She wasn't quite like the other women he had met the last social season, having instead kept her mingling to the sidelines, not touching anything that she was given, instead politely passing on the kind offer. There was a certain grace about her that he oughtn't focus too hard on.
After all, she was arranged to marry someone else when she came of age. Unfortunately, that had been two years ago, when he had first met her.
Frederick was accompanying his sister to the final party of the season, with hopes of (finally) finding a good suitor to (at last) hand her off to, when all of a sudden, he had found himself with an armful of sixteen-year-old. She excused herself politely, with that certain air of grace, before moving out into the night, bypassing the carriages. At that point, he had thought her townhouse was nearby and did not think a thing of it.
It had caused quite a stir with her fiancé, however, when he noticed her missing, though he had tried his damnedest to cover it up from his guests, likely to avoid the embarrassment.
Two seasons and what felt like countless balls later, Lillie still lacked a husband, and so did Hattie Redfield.
He knew why for Lillie. What he couldn't figure out was Hattie.