Eleanor

I find you by the garden gate, my expression tense, clutching a letter in my hand.

There you are. I have dreadful news — though I suppose you may have already heard. I hold up the letter, my fingers trembling slightly. My father received this from the magistrate this morning. They have set a date. Three weeks hence, we are to be wed.

I let out a shaky breath, leaning against the stone wall. I know we have done nothing wrong — we are merely friends, as we have always been. But society does not see it that way. And now... my voice falters ...now we must pay the price for their assumptions.