Thorns

Chapter 1

Eliza Fletcher found the summer heat to only accent her stroll upon the lawn; it was soothing, not hot enough to burn, and enhanced the fragrance of the blossoming flowers. It was the only time when she felt free; she wasn't required to study, but could roam the lawn as she pleased in the company of her sisters.

People often said that the Fletcher sisters were nearly identical, though each did have a distinguishing feature. For Betty, the 'homely one' as people said, it was her many freckles that grew when she stayed under the sun too long. Isabelle had the scooping nose that stuck into the air as though she was looking down at everyone for the slightest of things, and Eliza had the palest skin of them all – highly susceptible to sunburns and requiring bonnets at all times. Each were wild in their own way, and people said that it was because of their parents.

Mr. Cornelius Fletcher, an aged man of 45, was a lawyer. He had met Mrs. Fletcher, at the time Juliana Faire, while studying in London. The family was serious, well-liked yet revered, through the quaint village of Winford. Eliza supposed that his upbringing played a part in him being so resigned and amiable. Her mother seemed to be the exact opposite in this spectrum. As much as the Fletchers loved one another, it was quite easy to say that arguments were not a rare occurrence. While each party was likable in their own ways, neither truly agreed with one another on important matters.

"Misses Fletcher? Mrs. Fletcher desires your presence!"

Eliza gave a crooked grin, "Isabelle, you know mother detests when we frolic on the lawn. Do you think she'll scold us if we were to fall in the mud?" Her steps quickened from a walk into a sprint, Isabelle gasping behind her. Lifting her skirts so she did not trip, her bonnet flew from her head, bouncing against her back. She could just hear Betty shouting at her to fix it but the youngest didn't reply, stopping at the doorstep and waiting for her sisters to join her before stepping into the home. Eliza wouldn't dare set a muddied shoe on the rug; her mother would have a fit if she were to see even a faint trace of dirt. She was likely waiting for a visitor to call, prompting her to behave in such a manner.

It was as though the mere thought of her mother caused Mrs. Fletcher to appear, the women entering and at once catching sight of them. She glanced at the older girls, studying their appearances, before looking at Eliza, "You were running again, weren't you? And in your good day dress!" In a flurry of skirts, she was inspecting Eliza's garb with a scowl, "It had better not have stained, Eliza. To think of all the work Hanna did, just for you to go and trounce about outside! Oh, what will your father think of this! Go, change. Yes, you two as well! Into your dinner clothes: Eliza, set out this dress for Hanna to tend to!"

Mrs. Fletcher had a reputation for having a large heart and hard head. People often questioned if it was she who had begun courting Mr. Fletcher or if it was the other way around; upon the birth of Betty, the eldest girl and second born, it was evident that the house would run smoothly regardless of how many children there were. Her pristine home lasted until Eliza was born, where chaos made an appearance through the young girl. However, as often as Mrs. Fletcher griped, everyone knew it could have turned out differently; Eliza could have been far more rebellious than she was, and Isabelle could have had ran away from home with a wild-eyed boy. Far worse was the prospect of any of them following the footsteps of their brother. God forbid if that were to happen.

Eliza was oblivious to her mother's thoughts as she and her sisters entered their shared bedroom, "Hanna, come help us; mother wants us to change for dinner." She watched Isabelle approach to help her with the pinning in her collar but shied back, swatting her hand away. She'd much rather wait for Hanna to come; the slip of the pin wouldn't be an accident if Isabelle touched it.

"Do you think we'll go to a ball anytime soon, Betty?" Eliza asked, glancing at her sister's reflection. It had been several weeks since anyone had sent invitations out and the evening gowns hanging in the wardrobe were beginning to grow dusty.