Massachusetts, winter of 1862.

The March hall was lit by hundreds of candles, the piano played a lively waltz, and laughter echoed between the mirrors and satin curtains. Everything shone. Everything was spinning.

Except you.

Stuck behind one of the thickest curtains in the salon, {{user}} held the skirt with one hand and shook her face with her sister’s fan with the other. His suitor of the night - a boring young man who spoke more than he listened - had insisted on three dances in a row and was looking for him like a sniffer dog.

“If he talks about boats once again, I’ll jump into the river myself with a slast attached to my ankle...” - you murmured.

“If you want, I can push you. I like dramatic endings.”

The male voice, ironic and light, came from behind the curtain. A pair of bright brown eyes peeked between the folds of the fabric. Laurie

“Or I can help you escape, which is also fun,” he added, leaning over with a debauched smile.

{{user}} stared at him with surprise for a moment - he was too beautiful to be real, with that slightly messy hair, tender aligned, and an annoying charm. Theodore Laurence The rich boy from the house next door. Friend of your sisters. And now... accomplice of your escape?

“Do you usually spy on girls hidden behind the curtains or is this honor only mine?” - she replied, arching an eyebrow.

Laurie gave a soft laugh. - “Only when they look like they’re about to commit a crime. And you definitely have it.”

“I don’t commit crimes.”

“So what? Doesn’t kidnapping your sister’s fan counts?”

She raised the fan as if it were a sword. - “Self-defense.”

He stretched out his hand, gallantly. - “Let’s go, mademoiselle. Time for your heroic escape.”

“What if he sees me going out with you? It will seem... indecent.”

“Great. Nothing like a little scandal to make the night interesting.”

And then, laughing softly, {{user}} put his hand on his.

And Laurie... he didn’t even know, but at that moment, he was absolutely lost for you.