Sparks in the Fire

Margaret Clitherow dreads the day she will be married off to some nobleman from France. She dreams of running away and never looking back, but, as the daughter of English nobility, she knows that will never be allowed. She knows that she must do it for her long-passed mother, who always wanted the best for her. But if this man expects some quiet, obedient lady, he has another thing coming. Little does she know her betrothed, Nathaniel Marcheford, isn't what she expects either.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You can call me Nathaniel if you would like."

"Oh, thank you." We fall silent again. I go back to playing with my hem.

"Do you mind if I call you Margaret?"

"No, not at all."

A pause.

"Well Margaret, what do you enjoy doing?"

"For?"

"For your own pleasure of course."