It was seeming harder and harder to tell her godmother no these days, but the woman must have sensed Malou's unease in recent events and pressed it to her advantage. With Fallon marrying soon there was little option for Malou to stay in their flat and as a young lady of the upper class she really couldn't live on her own. Her godmother, of course, had offered for her to live with her - but really how could she put up with a spinster. No, Malou needed a stroke of luck, a household of her own - and a man who would allow her to keep working. Not that she expected that existed. She had never really thought she'd be in this position but Fallon's own love story had pushed Malou to the realization that perhaps the life of a spinster was not really achievable in her circumstances. So she gave in her godmother.

And here she was, at Sanditon resort wearing a blue gown her godmother had insisted on purchasing her, and feeling altogether too old for such events. She just needed a moment to breathe, she decided, stepping out of the crowded ballroom and onto the terrace. She paused a moment to listen to the sounds of the waves and then she turned to look at the dislays of flowers. If she did find someone to marry would she be expected to make boquets such as this? What flowers had they used? Malou had no idea. She'd never taken the time to learn them. She leaned forward to smell one. It smell bueatiful and it - bit her! It [i]bit[/b] her! Right on the tip of her nose. What in heaven's name? She reeled back with a startled, "Ow!", her hand clutched over her nose.