Chapter 4

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(Dear readers, now comes the big twist!)
Joan and Sophie drank their lemonades like a pair of thirsty wolves.
Sophie bit her lower lip as she said "I need vodka!"
Joan nearly spat the lemonade in her mouth " are you bloody insane?!"
Sophie drew back as she was caught off guard by her cousin's impertinence.
Joan apologised. "Are you insane?"
Sophie rolled her eyes "I know that genteel ladies are not supposed to drink Vodka. Mother will slaughter me if she comes to know that I drink."
Joan nearly shrieked " you drink vodka?"
"I drank for the first time a week ago. I sneaked into father's study and stole the tall bottle of vodka up into my room" Sophie said.
"My my" Joan crooned "my cousin's a daredevil."
Sophie laughed "ever the spoilsport."
"Well we do have a replacement for vodka. It's the plonk."
Sophie rolled her eyes.
Joan laughed.
"Men of the aristocracy secretly prefer plonk, they just don't drink it because it doesn't suit their status " Sophie said.
"They prefer port!"
"Only after the ladies retire."
"You know a lot chit" Joan said "and I hate you for this."
Sophie slumped her shoulders and then clasped her hands together "you know-"
"No I don't" Joan interrupted.
Ever the sly one.
"Mama bought me a trousseau . It's amaranthine in hue and is softly laced with pearly threads at the collarbone with works of golden Straps that etch into the tout ensemble and come out in roseate yet pale spherules that crinkle ever so slightly as if crooning and although-"
"Sophie" Joan interrupted " no one's interested."
Ever the sly one.
" You-" Sophie stopped and looked at Joan.
Joan had suddenly gone terribly PALE.
"Joan?" Sophie squeaked.
"He has come"
"Pray tell me. Who?"
"William Billfield."
Sophie's face shook in horror. Joan was dead now, he had come to kill her. He had.
Joan picked up her skirts and possibly fled as William caught her sight and was almost on the verge of lunging at her.
Joan heard Sophie's cries to stop....but Joan fled. She had to.
Joan ran and for the life of her, her mind kept remembering the scene with William, the memory she hated the most.
Joan kept running, down the aisle back to the entrance, then the front porch, then from there to the backside of the ballroom and then she caught his deadly glimpse again.
Good heavens, he was following her!
Joan ran with every ounce of her might, even though she was tired and her breath was coming out in short ragged spasms.
At the back of the ballroom there was a man standing there in front of his carriage.
Joan ran to him, oblivious to the fact that she was going to fall in love with him and her life was going to change in the next ten minutes.
(Finally! In the next chapter our hero meets his beloved heroine.....)

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