Nov 9, 2015
wallflowers
{ @ofcherrytrees }
Miss Alice Beckett knew she stood out of place at the ball. A few side-wards glances were shot at the young Italian woman on the arm of a rich, handsome Lord. Alice was his ward and accompanied him everywhere he went; his hopes of educating her. She felt uncomfortable. The whispers were only just audible above the dance music but they still made her heart race.
Not a friend in the room and she did not know what to do. Her Lord was graceful when conversing with strangers and old friends but she stammered and could not speak. Alice stood at the side of the room, wringing her hands and wondering when she could finally go home.
