The gentleman before her was a recognizable fellow with his bright red hair. They’d gone to school together for seven years and while they hadn’t been in the same house Lucy’s upbringing had made her very aware of two things; one, that gentlemen of her status, that is to say from good families, were people to remember and by name alone she knew who Mr. Lukeson was. Two, that she would one day marry and therefore it was important to know eligible gentleman and form opinions on them. She couldn’t remember the last time she and Mr. Lukeson had actually spoken, but she could remember speaking of him among her friends.

“Mr. Lukeson.” She greeted fondly as if they had spoken only just yesterday. “I do apologize, I had thought you my maid.” A faint blush crept into her cheeks for it was of terribly poor taste to be asking for an opinion on one’s undergarments to a gentleman. She placed the stockings back on the table, hoping he might forgive her indecency.

Hoping to turn the conversation to less daring topics she then asked, “How have you been? It feels as if it has been years since school and yet it’s only been one. How time flies, don’t you agree?” Words cascaded in a polite tumble from her lips, flighty as butterflies in a field of daisies