London, 1857.

The fire was slowly starting to die as Isabella briskly combed her wet copper brown hair in an attempt to get it dry. The hour was quite late and she did not want to trouble her maid Amelia by summoning her to fetch more wood. As she watched the dying embers the clock suddenly struck midnight and Isabella jumped as the loud clangs broke through the silence of her candlelit bedroom. "I must hurry" she thought as she began the long task of twisting her hair into pieces of white linen cloth so as to achieve curly hair on the morrow."Damn this" Isabella hissed as a lock of her hair refused to obey under the administrations of the thin cloth. As soon as the words left her lips she smiled in thought remembering her mother's frequent protests for using "foul" language. Fatigue overhame her and she hurriedly wrapped the remaining linen pieces through her hair and readied herself for bed. She mentally cringed at the prospect of what tomorrow would bring. The Parker's were having their annual ball and Isabella dreaded the thought of it! Dancing was not her forte and neither was playing the piano forte for that matter. The idea of spending several long hours in the company of many of the ton was as appealing to her as mucking out Hettie's pigpen. Her father had made the decision a year before to sell their country home in Hertfordshire and move to London to "raise their station in society" he had said. However the tedium of London society did not suit Isabella. She sighed realising she couldn't escape from attending the ball, so instead she began to think of a new game to play with her best friend Charlotte during it. In the hopes of making it slightly more enjoyable.

This was a somewhat childish trend that she and her friend had began, for the sole purpose of lessoning the monotony they regularly felt when they were required to attend gatherings organised by prestigious families such as the Parker's. They would make bets as to the number of rakes that would be in attendance or guess how often Lady Roberts would blush and fan herself vigorously when one passed her by. Tomorrow Isabella began to think we should guess how many new dresses Miss Parker will claim her father bought her this month. She giggled then, the main purpose being to lift her mood slightly and dispel her displeasing thoughts of tomorrows ball. Closing her eyes she let sleep engulf her.

Isabella woke with a start as Amelia bustled into her room remarking on the lateness of the hour. "We must start getting you ready Lady Isabella" she said, before suddenly stopping in her tracks. "Good Lord! What have you done to your hair?" Amelia gasped."Oh this" Isabella mumbled while moving her hand to feel the top of her head, "Well I didn't want to summon you, so I just put the cloth in myself". "You silly goose" Amelia admonished "Always call me...then we can avoid such disasters, ok quickly; up you get, I must begin on your hair now If it's to be presentable before you leave for the ball". Isabella sighed loudly and rose from her cosy bed inwardly cursing at the thought of having to sit still for the next two hours.

A number of hours later she was dressed and preened enough to meet Amelia's standards. Her feet felt heavy as she walked to the carriage and placed herself on the seat beside her mother. Her father Lord Bradford smiled warmly at her before tapping the roof of the carriage to begin their relatively long journey to the Parker's home, which stood just over the border of London in the county of Kent. The carriage sprang forward then and she had to quickly grab her reticule just before it threatened to fall to the floor. She peered down at the material that covered her small bag and noticed that it was beginning to fray and some beads had already fallen off. This is just one sign of my families dwindling finances, that only those who are clever enough will notice she sighed inwardly. Her father had been crafty in disguising that the family were still wealthy, but this pretence could only last for so long, Isabella knew. The Bradford name had always held weight in society but soon their status was likely to come tumbling down unless circumstances changed. She was aware that it would not be long before she would be expected to marry. She was also well aware that there would be no fairy-tale love story for her, when she married it would be to a man of her fathers choosing and the marraige would be based on the prerequisite of raising their financial station, she was in no doubt of that. To say that she felt overwhelmed was an understatement.

The carriage finally ground to a halt in front of an impressive facade that was the Parker's family residence. It stood three stories tall with white pillars standing each side of the doorway. Isabella emerged from the carriage, her white muslin gown almost touching the graveled driveway as she walked towards the doorway. Momentarily glancing back she made sure her parents were following, however, as she turned about she felt how tight her gown was across her bosom; the delicate fabric stretching to contain her growing figure. The dress was from two seasons ago and her now ample bosom was beginning to show. It was not indecent, but she knew that could likely receive some looks from the wrong kinds of men. Mentally berating herself for not noticing earlier in her haste to leave for the ball, she carried on inside. After, spotting Charlotte through the crowd, Isabella instantly made a beeline for her, smiling as she went. She then preceded to confide in Charlotte as to what their game would be for the night. Charlotte smiled while shaking her head and whispered "we are terrible" before giggling and guessing "seven dresses, that is my bet"

"Not a chance" exclaimed Isabella a bit too loudly and they giggled again "my guess is ten and four, seven dresses would never be enough for my needs" she gasped mimicking Miss Parker's high pitched tone. They were both giggling hysterically when a stange feeling came over Isabella and she turned to see a tall lone figure standing to one side of the room, staring at them both. When he caught her looking over, he slowly looked her up and down before returning to her face. He had a cold glint to his eyes and he made for a foreboding figure. Isabella felt the hairs on her neck stand on end before looking back at Charlotte and speaking more quietly. When she looked in his direction again he was gone. She began to wonder who he was, but before she could get lost in thought, Miss Emily Parker appeared wearing a dazzling gown of pale pink muslin embellished in white pearls. Being the youngest of three children, Lord Parker doted on her to an obscene degree, and it showed in her expensive fashion.

Emily smiled sweetly at Isabella before looking at her dress and stating "I had a dress like that, about three seasons ago now I think" before turning to Charlotte and saying "Gosh you are looking...ah...plumper since I saw you last, I remember how much you loved the lemon cake you had at our house...I never indulge in sweet things myself". Charlotte gaped openly at her while Isabella clenched her fists at her sides and said in her calmest voice "Well I've never seen Charlotte look better... however I do believe you are being outshone tonight, your dress seems to be popular" she stated in barely concealed glee. Isabella then pointed to another guest who was wearing what seemed to be the exact same dress as Emily. Knowing this would rile Emily up, Isabella looked back to see her face had turned rather pink. Scowling Emily announced "I will be having strong words with my dressmaker this week.... I must go and change, thankfully father bought me ten and five new dresses this month" she announced before storming off towards the stairs. Isabella and Charlotte both glanced at each other before bursting out laughing and sighing "so spoiled" in unison.

"Wait I was almost right" Charlotte said gleefully after Emily departed "I'm only one away from one and four dresses". Smiling Charlotte conceded "Ok you win this time" before they giggled again and went in search of refreshments. About two hours had passed before Isabella decided to go in search of her mother and father. She hoped wholeheartedly that her father had not entered into a card game with the other lords tonight. Thus she moved through the ballroom in search the ajoining room that played host to card games. Balls and family gatherings were afterall notorious for casual gambling. It was the word "casual" that her father had an issue with she thought grimacing inwardly as she began to move along by the wall in attempt to evade the crush of guests.

As she went, one of the few beads that were left on her bag dropped to the floor and rolled forward. "Damn" she exclaimed before watching it roll and hit a rather large black leather shoe. The owner of said shoe bent down and picked up the bead before meeting Isabella's hazel coloured eyes. One corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk as he held it towards her and stated "Ladies should not curse". She could hear a distinct timbre of humour in his voice. Isabella eyed him in shock realising it was the same mysterious gentleman who had stared at her earlier. She reached out to take the bead and their fingers touched, sending a shiver up her spine. She met his blue-grey eyes and realised with shock that he had experienced the same effect; with haste she took the tiny object and hurried past him. The bead was now barely being held between her trembling fingers.