Always the Bride

100 Words of Speculation written over a background of fountain pen and printed text

Caroline glanced at Mr Wilkes. His eyes were perhaps beady, but his jacket displayed his bearing to most pleasing effect. He’d been attentive at Sophie’s soiree, but for someone of Mr Wilkes stature to call within the week, and of an afternoon none the less, was sure sign the matter was settled in his mind.

She took a sip of tea as Mr Wilkes gracefully pulled a passing servant into his embrace. Such fine manners and his skin took not even a tint. Unlike poor Sophie’s line who bloated up like ticks.

She would most enjoy eternity as his bride.

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