Chapter One

A Chapter by ekbay72

The Lost Young Women's Society

Gwendolyn Darling paced anxiously in her night gown, fingers tightly clasped against each other. She walked the length of the window in her room, only to turn back when she hit either wall. Only a dim lamp lit the room, scattering vague shadows on the walls and ceiling. She heard the all too familiar thump thump of footsteps climbing the stairs and immediately leaped toward the bed. Gwen quickly placed herself under the covers and assumed what she hoped would pass for a delicate “lady in distress” position. Her head sank into the fluffy pillow, tilted slightly at an angle, and let her eyes flutter closed. She could feel the beat of her hear pounding against her chest as she waited for the footsteps to arrive at her door. Soon, as anticipated, the sound of footsteps was followed by a brief knock before the clatter of the turning doorknob. Light flooded in from the hallway and Gwen gave a great show of blinking blearily, as the head of her mother peered through the cracked open door.

“Sorry, dear,” said Mrs. Darling, stepping fully into the room. Mrs. Darling was a small, slender woman with dark chestnut-colored hair and warm brown eyes that she shared with Gwen. Tonight, Mrs. Darling was dressed in an elegant lavender dress that complemented her dark curls and pale skin. Around her throat was a string of pearls to match with the pearl earrings hanging from the lobes of her ears.

“I didn’t mean to wake you. Are you quite certain you won’t be able to attend the dinner party tonight? Bernard Clifton is supposed to attend and you know how much he loves your attention.” Gwen focused all her energy on preventing a grimace from forming on her lips, which almost always did when Bernard Clifton was mentioned.

“I’m sorry, Mother, but I feel quite ill. I’m sure it would be best for the dinner party that I not attend.”

“Oh, what a pity,” said Mrs. Darling with a delicate sigh. “I do hope these frequent headaches of yours are not too serious. They always come at such an inopportune time"always before dinner parties it seems. Perhaps it would be a good a idea to call for the doctor.” Gwen gave a reassuring smile.

“Mother, you should not worry so. They will only give you wrinkles. As for my headaches, I am sure they are a merely a passing ailment"nothing so serious as to bother the doctor.”

Mrs. Darling’s face remained etched with worry, but before she could respond, the stairs thumped wildly and Mr. Darling bounded through the open door.

“Ah, Gwen dear, are you still feeling ill?” asked Mr. Darling, his voice low and rough, but kind. Gwen nodded, the angle of her pillow making it rather difficult. She raised the back of her hand to touch her forehead. “My poor Gwen,” he said, coming to stand next to Mrs. Darling beside her bed. Mr. Darling was a rather large man, especially compared to his dainty wife, who had a great interest in collecting clocks of all kinds. He was often seen blustering about, talking enthusiastically about the latest gears and spokes. Tonight, he was dressed in his finest suit of black with a neatly pressed white shirt and a silk top hat that he carried in one hand.

“You really must try to take care of yourself,” he admonished, not unkindly.

“Of course, Father,” said Gwen as she smiled sweetly.

“My dear,” he turned to Mrs. Darling, “I’m afraid we must be on our way. The carriage is waiting for us downstairs.” Mr. Darling fished a gold pocket watch out of his pocket and checked the time. “It’s already a quarter till eight!”

Mr. and Mrs. Darling shuffled closer to the bed and each pecked Gwen on the cheek. Mr. Darling bustled out, closing his watch shut with a small click and carefully placing it back in his pocket. Mrs. Darling followed closely, but turned back when she reached the door, hand on the doorknob.

“Now Gwen, if anything should go awry, call for your brother.” Gwen straightened up on the bed, temporarily forgetting about her feigned illness.

“John Michael is home? I thought he was away for school.”

“He’s on break, dear. He arrived this morning to drop off his trunks, but then had to attend an important event all afternoon. He is here now though, so he’ll be able to take care of you.” Mrs. Darling left, shutting the door on her way out, again leaving only the small lamp to fill the responsibility of illuminating the entire span of the room. Gwen made sure to wait a few moments to hear the stairs before jumping out of bed once more. She resumed pacing in front of the window, though this time she was careful to stay far enough back that her parents would not catch her silhouette glowing as they left in the carriage. She clasped her hands behind her back, taking evenly measured steps. So her brother was home. To be completely honest this was not exactly joyous news. John Michael could be rather bossy"even more so than her parents"and ever since he returned form school, he would often give her unasked for lectures on whichever topic he was currently studying; not to mention he spoke in an extremely supercilious tone that clearly suggested, even to the most deaf, that he was incredibly well-educated. As a result, Gwen frequently caught herself tuning out as John Michael droned on endlessly about matters she could not care less about. At this moment however, Gwen shoved all her thoughts for her brother in a drawer in her mind and focused on the immediate present. She walked to her desk and pulled out a newspaper article from four days past.

Tuesday April, 5, 1876

The Lost Young Women’s Society would like to offer to young women an opportunity to escapes the confines of an engagement or marriage. While we understand the importance of these concepts, we believe in the independence of women and believe fully that women are capable of taking care of themselves. Therefore, the society will assist those young women who wish to learn to live independently, without the assistance and reliance of a husband. For more information or assistance, please leave a responding ad in this section of the paper with your request.

Yes, Gwen was most certainly hoping to avoid the “confines of an engagement or marriage.” For the past few weeks now, she had been forced to feign illness at every mention of a dinner party in order to avoid Bernard Clifton. Bernard Clifton was a boy of about eighteen and he had recently come to courting Gwen at every possible turn. Bernard was tall, but thin, making his narrow face seen even narrower. He, like John Michael, whom he was friends with, was dreadfully boring as well, though he liked to think he was quite the charming gentlemen. In addition, Bernard had lately taken to inviting Gwen on long walks and asking to dance whenever the opportunity presented itself, in which she endured his long monologues and rather painful dancing. Unfortunately, because Bernard also happened to be John Michael’s closest mate, he was around quite often. Therefore, Gwen had little choice but to avoid both Bernard and John Michael, which was how she came to having horrible headaches that appeared mysteriously and coincidentally on every night a dinner party was held, but had no apparent cure and magically disappeared the subsequent morning. In any case, her parents and John Michael seemed to have come to an unspoken consensus that Bernard Clifton was quite the match and ceaselessly threw her at his company whenever possible. Gwen sat at her desk, flapping the newspaper clipping back and forth rhythmically. She pursed her lips to the side as she thought. She knew she couldn’t hold off Bernard forever; already her parents, though not exactly suspicious, were most definitely beginning to question her “illness”. Which was why she had been incredibly happy to have found the existence of the Lost Young Women’s Society. Could it be real? Was there really an institution where young women were taught to live independently? Without the need of a husband? On second thought, Gwen was skeptical; it sounded rather like a tasteless prank by men to lure women into disappointment. She had been going back and forth for days; some days, when things were at their worst, Bernard wise, she was determined to call up on the Society and have her troubles disappear; other days, or night such as this, she felt that this surely had to be some sort of elaborate hoax. Regardless, Gwen was certain the Society would not be met with pleasure by her family. With a sigh and a shrug, Gwen dropped the article back into her desk drawer. She walked to the pane glass window, staring first at the street lamps, lit with a warm glow, before turning her gaze to the brightly flashing stars above. Grabbing each swatch of the curtain on either side of the window, she draped it closed. Crossing to the bed, Gwen pulled herself underneath the thick covers once more and reached out a hand to turn off the lamp beside her bed. Plunging the room into darkness, Gwen snuggled into her pillow and let the darkness pull her into a dreamless sleep.

next chapter