"You are all women."
"And?"
"You haven't got a man running your house. One would say that is improper."
"Well to that I say why not?"
"Pardon?"
"Why not be the man and the woman of the house?"
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Millicent Shipton had never been one for traditions.
She could not stand the ways of society and how a woman was overlooked for the man standing behind her. Growing up with the Shipton family name elevated her status, however not in a way she would've wished. It became apparent that her mother was trying to twist and mold her mind into that of a future young lady of the ton, preparing for the seasons in London, but young Millicent could not allow her mind to be coated in fabrics and silks. To not be coated in the ways of how to take her tea properly, and to read and to sew in preparation to become a wife but most importantly a mother.
Instead her mind was filled, bursting almost, with numbers and logic that she could not fathom. It made her an excellent student in those of math and statistics however when her governess tried to change the subject of the day to something more 'proper' like sewing and mending, Millicent would take off, running loose and wild around the halls of Cranbrook House, the estate that had been owned by the family for decades. Until one day Millicent managed to slip out from the grounds and headed down the road leading towards the closest town. But when a distant sound alerted Millicent's ears, she slipped into the forest, following the sound of laughter that sparked the curiosity of an 8 year old.
Yet the sight she had seen was that of pure joy, in the distant there was a family in whose laughter filled the air, any passing man or woman or even those from the centre of London could've heard and understood the joy. It was a delightful sound that made Millicent's stomach bubble like champagne, a drink she would become most familiar with later in years. That, or from the excessive hunger that had filled her from the extensive running and walking from the house. But a smile grew on her face as she watched three young boys running around with an older man carrying a young girl on his hip and a woman sitting on a chair with some form of needlework within her hands covering the bump around her stomach.
They all seemed so happy, so content with their life as sweet laughter filled the air. It was not apparent what they were doing or playing but Millicent couldn't take her eyes off their happiness. Crouching behind a tree she could have sat and watched their happiness for hours, almost like a moving painting that could be displayed at Somerset House. Not skied, she wouldn't be able to deprive the many members of London of the happiness that was filling through her entire soul. It seemed everything in the world had stood still and nothing could ruin the moment until a ball seemed to roll down towards her feet.
Millicent picked it up and held it in her hands, hoping to soak up all of the happiness from their family for use of her own but when the squeals and excitement got louder she looked over to see the three boys running over. Dropping the ball Millicent ran behind another tree and waited for them to pass. But the twisted turn of fate decided against the young girl's wishes. The youngest boy, she presumed, with him being smaller than the other two ran forward and picked up the ball before another came and grabbed the ball from him.
