An Education

Chapter 1. Adaline

Adaline's POV

February 13th, 1883.

I would not say I am given to complaints.

If I were one to complain, I should never have attended finishing school. I would have fled from the countless etiquette classes that sought to mould me into something other than myself.

Yet, here I am, tearing pages from my cherished culinary book, seated on my bed in a most improper posture, with an undone ribbon that would surely scandalise my teachers.

This all began yesterday, though if truth be told, its roots reach back before my very birth. Lord Steinback was twelve years my senior before I ever drew breath. Now, at twenty-six, he is destined to marry me, a mere fourteen-year-old, in two years' time.

Yesterday marked the first occasion I set eyes upon this mysterious figure, spoken of so reverently throughout the entirety of my life. The evening for which I had prepared all my days had arrived. With my finishing school friends chattering with excitement, I squeezed myself into a corset and a gown of considerable puffiness. As I entered the grand dining hall of his manor, nerves constricted my breath, making me feel as if I were suffocating.

To describe my interaction with Lord Steinback as disappointing would be a gross understatement. He possessed an ego of staggering proportions, incessantly interrupting me, boasting of his knowledge of art which was not even correct, and becoming indignant when my French proved superior to his own. Most disconcerting of all, he was older than my youngest uncle, nearing thirty! Was this the man for whom I had spent five years learning to cook, embroider, and play the piano?

After enduring two hours of his insufferable monologue, I could bear it no longer. I excused myself and sought out my parents.

"Father, I cannot marry him. I simply cannot."

"My dear Adaline, what nonsense is this? The arrangement was made fifteen years ago. It is not something we can alter at a whim."

"Father, you cannot bind me to a life decision without my consent. I implore you to reconsider."

"It is not a matter for reconsideration, Adaline. These agreements are sacrosanct."

"Sacrosanct or not, I shall not marry him. I am not asking for your permission; I am declaring my intention. I refuse to be a pawn in your negotiations. This is my life, and I must have the liberty to choose my path." My voice, trembling with suppressed fury, left no room for doubt as to my resolve.

"Adaline, you are being irrational. You must understand the importance of such alliances."

"I understand only that I cannot confine myself to a loveless, meaningless existence for the sake of an antiquated promise." With that, I turned on my heel and fled the room, my heart pounding with a mixture of fear and defiance.

Now, I sit amidst the remnants of my outburst. The chiffon dress, its soft blue fabric glistening in the lamplight, lies discarded. "Oh, how I wish I could keep the dress and lose the man," I murmured to myself. I begin to gather the torn pages of my book, imagining what Miss Imogen would say if she saw this chaos tomorrow.

It is then that I notice an envelope, previously overlooked, lying atop my writing desk. I do not recall receiving any letter. Intrigued, I open it and read the words inside:

"An education for dreamers sick of their reality. Come meet me tomorrow at 9pm. E.E. Shuttleworth." Below the message is an address to a local café.

"Such fine penmanship," I muse, admiring the elegant calligraphy. But who is E. E. Shuttleworth, and what could this cryptic message signify? The only way to discover the truth is to follow the instructions and meet this mysterious individual.