I sighed, combing my fingers through the stiff, gelled hair my mother had so desperately styled for tonight. My collar felt too tight, suffocating me in my own cologne.

“Carson,” I stiffened at the call of my name, turning to see yet another well-dressed woman. She was dressed exquisitely—as most everyone here was—a concerned and… determined look on her face. “Are you quite alright? You left in such a rush. That poor Tallulah was left gaping like a fish!”

Swallowing a snarky response, I cleared my throat and turned to the blonde with a dip of my head. “Thank you for your concern, Miss Forger. I assure you that I am well. Social gatherings such as these aren’t really… my scene.”

“Please, call me Margaret. ‘Miss Forger’ is far too formal.” Margaret brushed a stray hair behind her ear and stepped closer.

I could feel myself freeze, my breath halting against my will. I bit the inside of my cheek to will myself to relax. “Well, _Margaret_, I should have you know that despite my mother’s despondent cries at this gathering, I am not looking for a wife. So… if that is your intention, I implore you to seek elsewhere.”

The woman frowned, her brows furrowing with what I can only assume was frustration. She huffed and shook her head.

“Honestly, Carson, it’s not like the olden days. If you’re in love with a farm girl, you can say so! Sure, you might be given looks from some of the higher society, but who cares?” Margaret placed her hand on my shoulder and I had to force myself to keep still despite the bile bubbling in my throat.

I pulled Margaret’s hand off my shoulder. “I’m glad you’re supportive, Miss Forger, but I simply-“

That’s when it happened. My heart stuttered and butterflies erupted in my stomach. I recognized his eyes as soon as he walked in the door. I froze. I couldn’t do this right now.

Walter Moore walking arm and arm with a young woman with raven hair and a sweet smile.

“Uh- uh- You know what, Margaret? You are absolutely correct. I should be proud of loving a farm girl. In fact, I’m going to go to her now!”

Margaret squealed and turned in a circle. “Oh, yes! I’m a sap for forbidden romance. Although it saddens me that I cannot have you as a husband, I wish you the best, Carson! Go to her! Go!” She shooed me off and I gladly took to running out toward the gardens.

I stopped when I was far enough away from the mansion that I could only see the lights and faint silhouettes. Collapsing on a nearby bench, I placed a hand to my racing heart.

Walter Moore. The name by itself gave me shivers.

Oh, how handsome of a man he was! Dark auburn hair and strapping chin. He was the perfect suitor and an effortless gentleman. If only I could speak to him without stutter or arythmia.

No… I shouldn’t speak with him, regardless what I feel. I should be focusing on finding myself a wife. Finding a woman to bear children. My mother would be so happy to have a grandchild.

How fine a life it would be if I were able to be with Walter. I would be the best spouse to him and more.

Carson Moore…

That had a nice ring to it. Much nicer than Carson Livingston. Maybe in a different life, a different time, it would be me he took into his arms and spun me round the dance floor.

But it is not that life and it is not that time.

“… Where am I supposed to find a farm girl?”