CHAPTER 1: Midnight Frolic

A rather large manor stood in the distance amongst the delicate scenery of sloping hills and ancient trees, where flowered vines crawled their way up the old oak trunks and bloomed every spring with fragile white flowers. A path was set amongst these hills, leading to the above mentioned manor, dubbed Cromwell Manor, for those wondering, whose gardens were perfectly tended and whose windows glowed with warm candlelight.

On this day it was a chilly morning, the flowers had taken to hiding away, awaiting the sun to emerge from the horizon and break through the pink and purple sky to nourish them.

A young woman in a white and pink dress sat in the parlor in front of an open window, quietly singing as she softly stroked the keys of the piano forte and played a wispy tune. She was no more than eighteen years of age and her appearance was soft and inviting. Her hair was blonde and slightly curly and her skin was very pale, making you wonder when she had last been out in the sun, but she did not look sickly. Her cheeks were full and rosy, her figure was pleasantly plump and curvaceous and her eyes were laden with youth and exuberance but there seemed to be a sad air about her.

Dear reader, her name was Evelyn Caroline Cromwell, the eldest daughter of a merchant, who distributed wine, and whose debts had left him nearly impoverished. Her mother had been a young and bright woman, who happened to have fortune and title. Unfortunately, her mother died in childbirth with Eve's younger sister, Anne. After fifteen years had passed, her father, at the ripe old age of forty, married a woman only two years older than Eve. This new woman happened to be French and the daughter of a Marquise. Her fortune was great and her father had bought her and her husband a beautiful manor in the countryside of France, which they sired with the Cromwell name.

So, he uprooted his young daughters and his older son from the home they knew too well in Surrey and moved them to the French countryside, where, he took up business with Mr. Rothschild, an earl and a very well off man, who was also the father of Sarah Rothschild, Eve's best friend and trusted confidant. Mr. Rothschild was a Jewish gentleman who owned a vast vineyard and supplied sacramental wine for synagogues and also for some select versailles nobility. Eve's father became his business partner and made money very well but his gambling and wracking up of debts caused him to lose most of his money, leaving Eve and her little sister in a bad situation since their step mother refused to support them with her fortune. This marked the Cromwell girls. They had no dowry to marry well upon and not a penny to their name to live on their own. So, Eve's father scurried to find his girls husbands and hid to the best of his ability their situation.

Anne, Eve's little sister was on the right track. She had several suitors at the age of sixteen. She had flirted her way into the heart of a very rich older man or two and her penniless state was no problem for them. Eve, however, had had only but one suitor when she was sixteen.

On top of having been forced to move away, Eve was constantly pressured to find a husband by her father, since she was the eldest girl. Her father cared for her but he also knew she was in need of a husband to live a comfortable life and took to trying to find suitors for her. They were usually rich and beyond her in years but she couldn't seem to bring herself to like them. You see, Eve was frightened of being trapped in a loveless marriage with a man who only wanted her for one reason. Also, the men her father introduced her to were, to say it lightly, carnal old men who wanted to marry for their satisfactions and since they were too forward with her, they usually frightened her. Her governess, Mrs. Cabbett, urged her to consider them but Eve just couldn't act under such strong pressure to receive a proposal. She, after all, wasn't exactly the type of girl they sought. Sure, she was beautiful and had good connections but she was poor. Her father used what was left of his fortune to keep his girls well dressed and fed to keep their looks up to a degree where men would find them desirable. It worked but when the men saw Eve shy away from their "advances" and not return a glance to them, they thought her indifferent, which was a correct assumption. This on top of her having no inheritance and a very small dowry, caused them to look on.

But, on the evening of April 12th, 1781, Eve's life was about to take a turbulent turn for the better.

TTTTTTT

Eve woke up, as usual, that morning of April 12th, before sunrise, heading downstairs to play on the piano forte and sing quietly as she waited for her father, her step mother and her sister to make their way down into the dining room to take their breakfast with her at the large table. When they usually made their way down, it was because Eve had awoken them. So, they decided that since they were awake, they might as well eat. Eve didn't expect anything different that morning.

She froze as she took a biscuit and looked up at her father, who had a certain look on his face again. She sighed, in frustration towards her father, and dropped the biscuit onto her plate, which made a continuos clinking noise against the porcelain until it stopped rolling around. She kept staring back at him and made an inquisitive face.

"Papa, you have that look on your face again," she tried to sound polite but it didn't help. Her little sister giggled and tried to hold in her delight. She loved it when Eve and their father would bicker over marital status.

"When will you marry, Eve?" He asked worriedly. She groaned and placed her knife down after she cut her biscuit in half and smeared butter onto it, "you're almost nineteen shortly."

"Please, father, not now, it's six in the morning," she begged him as she began to eat. Anne nudged Eve's leg and urged her to keep up the disagreement with their father. Eve just shot her a tired look and kept eating, trying to bite her tongue and let her father speak it out so that she would have the rest of the day in peace.

"I'm just worried for you, my dear," he glanced at her and watched her flinch.

"I'll make an agreement with you father, I'll marry the first man who rushes to help me out of the carriage upon our arrival at the ball tonight."

"Don't tease him, Eve," Anne spoke up with her giggling voice, "besides, you must be careful what you say. It just might happen."

"Papa," she looked over at him after disregarding her sister's little statement, "Will you please let me have peace. Just this once today?"

"Very well then," he chuckled, "but let me say this, you must marry soon. When I die, which very well may be soon, I will have to leave what is left of my fortune to your cousin, that is if your free willed brother doesn't return to us from America. If you don't marry by the time I die, you will be left without a penny to your name and your position in life will be insecure."

"I highly doubt that'll happen," her step mother said under her breath as she took a sip of wine. Eve quickly glanced at her with sorrow and quietly pushed her self up from the table. Her father watched her leave and cringed when the door closed behind her.

"I do worry about her," he said quietly to Anne, "I don't want her to be a spinster."

"Oh, papa, you mustn't worry," Anne smiled, "I will secure a very rich husband and Eve will be able to live off me."

TTTTTT

Eve hummed to herself as she sketched away while sitting in the garden. She had to get away. Every other morning, her father would bring up her situation and talk about it incessantly until she left the table. It was only until he was away on another business venture that she would have peace at breakfast, since her step mother barely spoke to her and Anne would usually leave the table quicker than usual to tend to her sewing. Her father made her feel like a poor, insipid little thing without a future at times. She knew he loved her but she also knew that he needed to stop worrying about her. She was fine, or at least she thought.

She wanted to be married, that was for sure, but she hadn't had a suitor since she was sixteen. It worried her. Was she pretty? yes. Was she well off? yes. Was she educated? yes. Was she happy? that was one question she asked herself from day to day and never found an answer to. Of course, she was at peace, but her happiness was another question. She couldn't lie to herself. She felt overwhelmed by it, not knowing how she would ever capture the attentions of a man she actually loved and who actually was approved by her father.

Eve stopped suddenly and listened carefully, knowing that she heard her name being called. It was Mrs. Cabbett, no doubt.

Her thoughts were proven right when she saw the short and plump little woman running towards her in a tizzy.

"Mrs. Cabbett," Eve laughed at the way the woman was running towards her, "Whatever could be so important?"

"It's quite late! You need to get ready for the ball as soon as possible," Mrs. Cabbett took Eve's arm and began to pull her inside. At times, Mrs. Cabbett was a very excited woman and when her nerves were rattled or shocked, she would run about like a squirrel, getting things done as quickly as possible.

"Good heavens, child!" Mrs. Cabbett chuckled, "You've been out there for nearly two hours."

"You know I love the fresh air and the roses are just beginning to flower," Eve said softly, "They smell so nice."

"Your father told me to make you look your prettiest tonight. I don't know what's gotten into that man's head, but he's determined to marry you off, soon."

"Of course," Eve smiled, "What father, before he dies, wouldn't want to see their young daughters happily married with homes of their own and children on the way?"

"Oh, Eve, don't you worry, I have a feeling that tonight may be the night you meet him. You can count on it. And, possibly, Anne will meet that strapping rich young man from Paris, again."

"Oh, I don't doubt she will," Eve smiled.

TTTTTT

Eve looked out the carriage window to watch the trees pass by quickly. Her father never liked to be late and they were since the carriage had taken longer to prepare than usual. The rain had caused mud near the stables and the servant men had been trying to keep the wheels from sticking into the mud. It had to have taken at least a couple of hours to prepare it. Eve and her sister, along with their step mother had taken to waiting in the parlor, fully dressed in their ball gowns, until it was ready. thankfully, the rain stopped before they departed but the puddles in the road and the mud that was left over still lingered in the road.

"Remember your promise, Eve," he joked as he watched her nervously play with her gloves, which rested on her lap. She was always so anxious when a ball came about. Anne patted eve's arm and reassured her that things would go well that night.

"I had forgotten until now," Eve said, realizing that she had jokingly made a promise at breakfast and had, until now, forgotten, "I will, Papa. Don't you worry."

TTTTTT

Her father swung open the carriage door, helping his young, pregnant wife out. He could not assist Eve out since her step mother required a little more attention. Anne sat by Eve, waiting for her get out since she was waiting for one of her suitors to rush over. Eve thought that she could get out of a carriage by herself but realized that the step was very slick and high up off the ground. She took a big breath, held onto the door and began to step down but since the step was wet and her shoes were too, she slipped...

TTTTTT

Jean villeneuve, fresh out of America and ready to re start his shattered life in France, patted his horse's cheek as he tied it up. He looked around, huffing to relieve the nervous feeling in his gut, and spotted a young woman, trying to get out of her carriage on her own. He cocked his eyebrow and wondered why she was doing such a thing and why the footman was so reluctant to help her. He cringed when she slipped. She began holding onto the door for dear life as her little feet wiggled helplessly in the air. He saw another young girl peeking out, giggling. The carriage was awfully high up off the ground and she was too short to gain footing on the ground without dropping and possibly spraining her ankle in her heels. He wanted to chuckle at the sight but realized what he needed to do...

TTTTTT

Anne's giggling didn't help Eve regain her balance after her heel slipped on the very slick step of the carriage. She expected to land on the hard, wet cobblestones when her hand had lost grip with the door but her landing was much softer. She had braced herself for the fall and closed her eyes but when she opened them, she sighed a breath of relief and looked up into the face of her rescuer. She smiled and Anne breathed a sigh of relief as she watched the handsome stranger help Eve regain her footing. Eve's cheeks turned a ruddy shade of red, realizing what a fool she had made of herself. She hoped too many people hadn't noticed but she knew she couldn't fool herself. Some old women were looking over at her in disgust. It was a very ungraceful feet she had carried off in her attempts to prove her father wrong. She smoothed out her silk gown and sighed as she took one of her feathers, which had fallen from her hair during her little ordeal, from the stranger's hand and positioned it into her hair once again.

"Thank you, sir," Eve said shakily as he helped steady her, "I owe you my life."

"Well, maybe not your life," he joked as he helped her stand up straight, "your dignity, perhaps."

She let a little sarcastic smile escape her, her dignity had not been saved, and she lifted the hem of her dress up slightly to avoid the puddles and watched as the man helped her little sister out of the carriage. Of course, her sister flirted like all ripe sixteen year old girls are prone to do and took Eve's arm and giggled quietly as they began to walk through the puddles near them.

"Eve, it might be too early for me to say but I do believe your promise to father will have to be full filled."

"Oh, Anne," Eve rolled eyes, "You know I said that in jest."

"Yes, but did you expect a handsome man to come to your rescue?"

"He's quite older than I am, Anne," Eve stated bluntly.

"What's wrong with that?" Anne joked.

Her father was grinning from ear to ear as his young girls reached him at the door. Eve shook her head and took his arm as she pulled her gloves to be a bit more snug on her fingers. Anne's "Suitor" offered his arm immediatly, since he had been waiting for her at the door and walked her to the dancing room as fast as possible.

"No, papa, he's much too old," Eve whispered as she saw her father look back again. Her glanced to see that the man was still standing there, watching her walk away.

"Well, he is much younger than some of the men I've introduced you to," he joked.

"He's most likely your age father, maybe older," Eve whispered, "Look at his hair, it's already silver, not a trace of youthful coloring is left in it."

Her father chuckled and he squinted to get a better look at the man. He knew him, he suddenly realized. In fact, he knew it was Jean Villeneuve. they had been friends a long time ago during his years in school in Paris and right up to when the French and Indian wars broke out. He laughed quietly about his realization and decided to let it go for the night, knowing Eve didn't wish to talk about it further. He still had a plan up his sleeve.

TTTTTT

Eve, as usual, took a seat next to her friend and expected to carry about her normal ways as she always did at balls. She listened to the music as a jovial tune began to play and the dancers all twirled and hopped about. She sighed as she watched them, wishing she could also dance with a young man. She used to dance at balls in England, usually with her brother. She missed him, especially at that moment.

"Oh, why did I ever wear these shoes?" her friends little voice distracted her from her longing to dance and she immediatly turned her attention down to her friend's little feet.

"Well, they do look good with your gown," Eve assured her, "but, if they hurt that much, than perhaps we could go to the garden and run about barefoot."

"The rain most likely soaked the grass, Eve," her friend chided, "My father would frown upon it."

Eve begged her friend to be free spirited just once and maybe for the last time, "The rain stopped a very long time ago, I'm sure the grass it just a bit soggy by now. I'm sure it's dried. It's not like there aren't other women our age running about in the garden's damp grass with their ankles bare and their shoes abandoned."

"Oh, all right," her friend giggled, "but this is the last time. My father couldn't let go of the fact that I did it a long time ago. He still hasn't forgiven me. You know how he is."

"Oh, yes," Eve giggled, "Come on," she said as her friend excitedly stood up and tried not to run with anticipation. She was desperate to rid herself of her pinching shoes, no matter how short the time was.

When they reached the back gardens, Eve was right. There had to have been at least five women walking about without their shoes on by the small lake and laughing and prattling in French with their friends. They were all young women, around the same ages as Eve and Sarah but they were a lot different in their morals than the two English girls. When Sarah saw that a man was with them, she froze and Eve followed.

"Perhaps there's a more private area of the garden where we can romp bare foot?"

"Oh," Eve looked about, "I know how much your shoes hurt, mine are just starting to."

"Perhaps he'll leave?" Sarah asked hopefully.

"Oh blast it," Eve said quietly, "just take off your shoes and sit in the grass. He will not bother us."

"If he does, it's all your fault."

Eve loved the feel of the soft grass at the bottom of her feet as she took off her shoes. Indeed the grass had dried quite well, actually and only a few drops stuck the green blades and dampened the women's little feet. Sarah let out a long heavy sigh of relief and laughed when she plopped her shoe down into the grass.

"If I could throw these into the lake, I would," Sarah said with a huge smile on her face.

"Then your father would never allow you to attend another ball."

"I shouldn't even be here tonight," Sarah bluntly said, "I had to convince him to let me go. He wants me to be at home more, I'm afraid."

"What?" Eve asked. She knew how Mr. Rothschild was. He was very controlling of the female members of his household. Even though he claimed to be revolutionary in his Judaic faith, he still stuck to the old ways when it came to his view of his daughters and marriage. When Sarah turned seventeen, her father arranged her marriage to an old Marquise. Sarah, however, had been drawn in by the ideas of revolution and, though she still stuck to her faith fervently, she had ideas and plans for her life that her father would not approve of. She, however, never showed her true side or her inner thoughts in the presence of her father.

"You know he's planning my marriage to take place in the next few months."

"Oh," Eve said in shock. Her father was sure rushing the marriage.

Eve and Chaya sat in silence for a few minutes and laid back in the grass. The sky was positively glimmering with stars. It looked like a million diamonds had been stolen from every jewel the queen owned and stuck in the sky. Eve and Sarah always loved to watch the stars at night and would lay outside sometimes for hours when they were out late.

A shout arose from the other side of the lake and the two girls sat up, looking at the source of the noise. It was a Frenchman, flamboyantly dressed in a powder blue silk outfit. He was waving his hat and it took Eve and Chaya awhile to know that he was waving it at them.

"You two ladies, show a bit more ankle, yes?"

Eve and Sarah couldn't help to laugh at him. He was obviously drunk. The two young women he was with had their dresses hiked up their knees and were trying to pull him down and keep him from disrupting the two other girls.

"Let me see those beautiful creamy knees!" he laughed as he drank from his wine glass.

"But sir, why would you wish to see our knees when you have two perfect pairs of your own?" Sarah shouted back.

"If you don't, I'll make you," he smirked wickedly, "I know you wish me to, non?"

It was then that Eve and Sarah searched for their shoes and stockings and picked them up, making their way to the rose garden where they could redress their ankles and knees and head back inside.

"All right," Eve admitted, "that wasn't a great idea but at least it was pleasant while it lasted."

"Oh, my bloody shoes," Sarah said as she grimaced and looked at her grass stained stocking, "I can't dance tonight. I was looking forward to someone asking me."

"If a man finally asks you to dance tonight, I'll bet you'll take it wholeheartedly and you'll forget about the pain."

"That is true-," Sarah said but she stopped short when they both almost ran into a man after they had began walking towards the door. He was standing outside trying to get a breath of air. Eve gasped when she looked up.

"Oh, it's you," Eve said as she tried to catch her breath from running away from the overly enthusiastic Frenchman at the lake.

"Yes, it is me, non?" he smiled. She could tell just by the way he looked that he was sad about something.

"Of course," Eve smiled back. Sarah cocked her eyebrow and stared at Eve for a few seconds. The man and Eve seemed to be staring at each other for quite some time without saying a word.

Suddenly, Eve's father came out the door and spotted them.

"Ah! Jean, there you are!" Mr. Cromwell shouted, "I thought you had disappeared."

"Just needed some air," Jean said.

"I see you've met my daughter again?" he smiled, "Eve, this is an old friend of mine from my younger days, Monsieur Jean Villeneuve."

"Pleased to make your aqauntence," Eve curtsied politely, "again."

Jean couldn't help but crack a small smile about her. She was quite young, he could tell, ,especially by how her and her friend had ran towards the rose bushes with bare legs. They didn't know he had seen them but he wished to keep that a secret. However, there was a strong sense of maturity about her in the way she conducted herself. He took her hand and kissed it, which almost caught her off guard.

"And this is her dear friend Miss Sarah Rothschild," Mr. Cromwell interjected. Sarah curtsied also but Jean forgot to take her hand. When Eve's father prodded Jean to leave with him and return to the ballroom, he reluctantly left, leaving the girls to think.

"Oh my," Sarah smirked, "he didn't take my hand like he did yours."

"Oh, Sarah, I'm sure he meant to but my father was rushing him," Eve assured her friend.

"No, I'm not upset. I'm just surprised about how well he treated you."

"He didn't disregard you."

"No, but he was quite enraptured by you," Sarah giggled quietly and Eve looked a bit shocked as she thought about what her friend said. She looked through the window to see her father introducing Jean to her step mother.

"Perhaps we should go back inside," Sarah spoke up, "It is chilly."