One fine Sabbath afternoon, the eligible Mr William Postlethwaite and I took a gentle walk across the moors around Mansfield House. The views were as exceptional as ever and the landscape 's bleak, rolling hills inspired my imagination far more than the character of my escort. I had considered him a fine gentleman on first impression, yet closer acquaintance soon revealed an altogether cold and tedious young man, one with whom any notion of union still causes me to shudder.
My tolerance of Mr Postlethwaite 's tiresome company had only continued due to the growing concerns my dear father held for my future prospects, as in his and all good society 's estimation, I would have no prospects at all as an unmarried woman. I had, therefore, duly …show more content…
The man was stubborn, a braggart who talked of Trafalgar as if he had bravely faced Napoleon 's fleet there. He despised the French, he despised the common Englishman even more and saw treason in every corner of the realm. Liberty, equality and fraternity were poisonous words to his ears, and to his dreadful mind, calls for social justice should receive nowt softer than an iron fist.
"Fear and discipline, Steffanie, is all that is proven to work."
I felt terrified, traversing the moor with neither hope nor inspiration - until Mansfield House came into view, the very antithesis of Postelthwaite 's cold justice. His iron fist could break bones but could never break love, not an honest love, and everyone knew that the most honest love of all lived within the fine walls of Mansfield House..
If the brave love within Mansfield could survive the realm 's most fearsome reign of terror, then surely I could survive Postelthwaite 's cruel cowardice, defeat him, and discard him forever? I believe Mansfield thought so, I believe its windows watched over me as I turned to my twisted admirer and spoke the finest, most inspired words to ever have entered my head.
"My dear, William," I said. "May I ask you something?"
"Please do, Steffanie," he said. "Ask me anything you
My tolerance of Mr Postlethwaite 's tiresome company had only continued due to the growing concerns my dear father held for my future prospects, as in his and all good society 's estimation, I would have no prospects at all as an unmarried woman. I had, therefore, duly …show more content…
The man was stubborn, a braggart who talked of Trafalgar as if he had bravely faced Napoleon 's fleet there. He despised the French, he despised the common Englishman even more and saw treason in every corner of the realm. Liberty, equality and fraternity were poisonous words to his ears, and to his dreadful mind, calls for social justice should receive nowt softer than an iron fist.
"Fear and discipline, Steffanie, is all that is proven to work."
I felt terrified, traversing the moor with neither hope nor inspiration - until Mansfield House came into view, the very antithesis of Postelthwaite 's cold justice. His iron fist could break bones but could never break love, not an honest love, and everyone knew that the most honest love of all lived within the fine walls of Mansfield House..
If the brave love within Mansfield could survive the realm 's most fearsome reign of terror, then surely I could survive Postelthwaite 's cruel cowardice, defeat him, and discard him forever? I believe Mansfield thought so, I believe its windows watched over me as I turned to my twisted admirer and spoke the finest, most inspired words to ever have entered my head.
"My dear, William," I said. "May I ask you something?"
"Please do, Steffanie," he said. "Ask me anything you