In Love with the Ringleader

Wayward Child - Chapter One

(Alright, I'll keep the AN short, but I would just like to clarify that I do acknowledge certain historical inaccuracies. While I try, as an author and a lover of history, to make things as historically correct as possible, there are a few inconsistencies within each chapter because I altered the time period several times for this story -- I know, I know; go me.

Anyhow, if you feel the desire to point out my mistakes, also expect your eyebrows to be missing tomorrow morning. -- With kind regard, I ask that you all simply enjoy this tale and enjoy your eyebrows because I do know there are mistakes! Thanks.)

1937, Charleston, South Carolina

Sweat clung to her temples, droplets slick against her brow, while her hands shook with exertion as she righted herself. She stood in the center of the large, yet very empty dining chamber. Cass inhaled and exhaled slowly, repeating the process until she felt that her heart had steadied enough to continue.

"Again," She ordered her body, willing the muscles to respond to the command. She had spent what seemed like hours under the archaic ceilings of the Morrow House. The silky cobwebs and overpowering scent of must began to make her nose itch, but the old house was the only place she could truly find refuge to dance.

Of course, one could hardly refer to what Cass was doing as dancing.

With her skirts tapered all the way up to her mid thighs--by the helpful hairpins she'd found in the maid's drawers--Cass did not look the part of an unmarried, respectable land-owner's daughter. In fact, with the way the sleeves were cut to the very top of her shoulders, she might've gone as far to say that the she looked like one of those edgy flappers.

The thought made the corner of her lips quirk up. Cass had always wanted to be an adventurous girl. The kind that dressed up in those incredibly short dresses or the type that could be with any man she pleased. Yet, if Cass were to ever get caught doing such free-spirited things, she'd surely get punished. Things just didn't work that way when she had her father's reputation to uphold.

At least that's what Vincent, her brother, always told her.

"A young lady should always be respectful, Cassandra." Vince would say.

"You must keep our family's reputation in mind."

And the worst of them all: "Dancing is not something someone of your stature should be spending all their time in. You'll end up like mother."

Cass shuddered once as a draft shifted the air in the vacant house. At the thought of her sibling's harsh words, she couldn't bring herself to make the next move. What time was it, anyhow? It had been midday the last time she checked...

Cass started toward the window nearest to her, wincing as she went-her legs were stiff from fatigue. It was funny; they hadn't hurt while she was in motion, propelling her body through the air and the vigorous spinning, but now that she had ceased, her muscles were on fire.

She parted the thick, velvety curtains that hung over the glass, nearly having to shield her eyes from the light that pierced through the foggy pane. The sunset pushed golden-carroty rays across the skyline, illuminating miles and miles of busy city. Cass's heart dropped at the sight.

The time of sunsets meant the time of supper, and supper was something she was not supposed to miss; especially on this night. She dropped the side of the drape and began to rip pins out of her dress, grabbing her coat from the dusty floor and rushing out the room. The Morrow House was abandoned by its owners long ago, so there wasn't a scrap of furniture to mark where she had been. This made trying to find the exit quite difficult for someone who was in a hurry to get out.