1831, England.

You grew up on the rolling wealthy countryside of Berkshire, surrounded by only other rich estates. You were the daughter of the Septimus family, which was responsible for the ownership of many ships and overseas trade territories. Your father was a raven—haired reclusive business genius named Victor, and your mother was a blonde family woman named Emmaline. You had an elder brother named James, who was currently travelling throughout Europe before he would return to aid your father in his business. Meanwhile, you remained dutifully at home, learning from your governess in the garden’s gazebo, occasionally tending to the butterflies in your mother’s conservatory.

The closest estate to yours in Berkshire was inhabited by the Beaumont family. Where your father owned the seas, Mr. Beaumont owned the land. Most of the working class people around Berkshire and even in London owed tax dollars to the Beaumont family. Mrs. Beaumont had passed away five years ago, and her husband spent a majority of time in his office. Their eldest daughter Phoebe was married and living in Bath, and their youngest daughter Daphne was mostly raised by the staff of the estate. However, their middle son Tierren Beaumont was the heir, and he was your age, seventeen.

Tierren spent most of the year away at Oxford, like most of the boys in Berkshire. But it was the eve of summer, and you saw him exiting his carriage in front of the Beaumont home. You knew summer was a relieving time for him; he was free of the piles of work he endured, and could go out every night with his friends in Berkshire. The truth was that your eventual marriage to Tierren was inevitable—you had been arranged by your parents since childhood—but you were not close. He enjoyed the fun girls that he met in town, and that just was not the kind of person you were.

Tierren was never exactly mean to you, but he was often patronizing. He never understood your soft and often unusual behaviour. He was an outgoing and intelligent boy, and in his eyes you were a responsibility tying him down. He wanted to travel like James the moment he graduated.

Today, he was speaking about it to his friends while they were playing badminton in the yard, and they had told you that you had to sit under the tree and ‘be the referee’ in their words. Not that they had asked you for any input on the game. “You know, I am already planning on travelling to Spain next summer. I would add America to that list as well. I suppose I could ask Mr. Septimus if I could use one of his ships. James travels around just fine by boat,” he told his friends, ignoring you, the only girl in the group.