Shadows

III

The beginning of spring delighted me. Following the long winter, the fresh breezes brought signs of new beginnings to Everstow Manor. In the afternoons, Miss Young and I strolled through the awakening gardens. I breathed deeply and skipped along the paths. My governess followed at a sedate pace. Stopping along the border gardens, I stooped amongst the daffodils and crocuses. Plucking a daff, I brought it to my nose and twirled the stem with my fingers.

Overwhelmed by happiness, I rose on my toes and pirouetted gracefully. The world felt new and alive. I longed to enjoy the season's freshness and welcomed it with open arms. Taking a few steps on tiptoe, I swirled with my arms held wide apart as though embracing my surroundings.

"Walk," my governess called from behind me. "Remember your deportment, Miss Priscilla."

"Oh, humbug," I muttered, halting my dance steps. I stood still for a moment and studied my feet. They did not enjoy the dainty treads Miss Young prescribed. They longed to run, skip, and jump.

"Humbug, indeed," my companion scoffed, briskly rushing to my side. "You must prepare for your London season next spring. You will not attract a husband if you insist upon skipping everywhere you go."

"Who says I wish to attract a husband?" I responded flippantly. "Surely, I am not for sale to the highest bidder."

"Surely, you will do as all the other young ladies do," Miss Young remarked. "Your mother is counting upon me to prepare you. I shall do my duty, and you shall do all you can to please her."

My temper rose suddenly, causing my cheeks to flame. Traditionally held during the spring and summer, the debutante season brought eligible young ladies to London for a presentation with Queen Victoria. The young ladies attended balls, concerts, and other occasions to attract suitors after the presentation. If she acquired a marriage proposal during that period, the season was considered a success.

During the past three years, Miss Young began preparing me for my London debut. My studies in English, history, mathematics, and languages ceased, and I started learning deportment and the social graces. Although my governess despaired of my success, I had to face my debut season the following spring.

I heartily disagreed with what I termed the marriage market and parade of young ladies. I was not; I declared a prize mare sold on the auction block. I longed to express my freedom of choice and independent spirit.

"A presentation to the Queen is a great honor, Priscilla," Miss Young continued, entwining her arm in my elbow. Slowly, we circled the garden paths. "It is a privilege you are lucky to obtain. Not every girl gets such a chance."

"Like you, for instance, Miss Young?" I queried, throwing her a coy glance. "You weren't presented to the Queen upon your sixteenth year, surely."

"Indeed not." My governess frowned.

As I knew, Miss Young grew up the daughter of an impoverished county vicar. One of six daughters, she had little choice but to take a position as a governess or companion to a wealthy widow. Marriage remained out of the question until she met Mr. Blanchard, the tutor. A host of suitors did not bang at her door, seeking her hand.

I often considered the unhappy circumstances of such women. Neither a part of the noble family they served nor a genuine staff member, they lived in between lives. They often dined alone in separate quarters and lived only for their pupils. Working side by side with Mr. Blanchard, Claudia Young could consider herself lucky. Hilliard Blanchard worshiped the ground she walked on and longed to propose marriage to her. The only drawback was the ongoing education of Grayson and me. As soon as my London season ended, they would become free to go their own way.