Penelope the eager

Pea was always different from the ladies at Bachworth. They were proper and modern, wealth had followed them wherever they went. But Pea, more formally known as Penelope, was a wild girl. She hadn't known wealth until she stumbled upon it with luck no girl had achieved for generations.
But when she is forced to stay with friends of her distant relatives she finds she fits no better there than she did at Bachworth. If anything, Pea was overwhelmed by the fanciful way of living the Willfrieds carried. Feeling without hope in this trapped estate, Joe discovers there is more than what the naked eye sees. There are secrets, and along with them there is a man who proves to be more of a mystery than she could ever have known.


1. Leaving Bachworth



     I instill all of my trust in the Willfrieds to bore me to my very tragic suicide. Mrs. Smith say's I'll have a wonderful time oh, and that the soaps their are a delightful honey sugar. Mrs. Smith is undoubtably jealous of my opportunity, thus we are given the pleasure of her babbling company, specifically about the Willfrieds, the Willfrieds, and the Willfrieds. Did I mention the Willfrieds?

     Regardless of common beliefs, I think living on the estate will be an experience non the less, but as for what I really want? I've come to the harsh reality of that. Maybe it will be better there, maybe I will be welcomed for my self made status of wealth instead of chastised for it. But I'm not counting on that.

    "What in heavens name are you doing?! Get down from there and gather your luggage, the carriage is here for your departure to the Wilfrieds." Mr. Smith hollers from below as he see's me sitting on the highest window sill. Its not for lack of knowledge in respects to how to be a proper lady, but I do get restless sometimes. Trapped in this god forsaken house with these gossiping servants and the Smiths. Unbearable at times. 

    I jump down from the sill with my notebook and gather my suitcases to the door. Looking around this big boring house once more couldn't make me sentimental even if it tried. So I ran to the carriage and shut the door behind me as the servants loaded my luggage. Without a single look back our journey to the new "home" had begun. The mist and fog was thick and eery as we crossed the green hills by the ocean cliffs. Not many things were as beautiful as fog. There is so much grace to it and yet so much mystery it hides below.

    I've always loved a good amount of mystery. 

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