The Disobedient Debutante and The Daring Duke

She rushed into the garden, away from the stifled ball and the fluttering of fans and all the mamas trying to match their daughters to dreary, wealthy lords and emerging gentlemen trying to look put together, her lady's maid in tow. She'd escaped. Now was her only chance to be happy, and she knew she would never get this chance again if she married him. She'd become a bored duchess, hosting dinner parties and enter her bedchambers every night knowing her husband would be constantly unfaithful, constantly cold, constantly distant, and cruel, and unforgiving, and violent-

But she would be fine. She had everything planned out. She and her lady's maid, Charlotte, would cast themselves off as grieving daughters who had become destitute due to reckless gambling. They would say their father was a drunkard who squandered the family fortune. No one would ask questions, or look for documents, and if they did, she had friends in high places. They would conveniently find forged documents which would look real regardless. If they were about to be exposed, they would know before. She had enough saved for a carriage and lodgings elsewhere. But the lady's thoughts were suddenly cut off with Charlotte's sharp insistence-

''My lady, we must keep running. Your father can't catch us or we'll both end up in an asylum.''

''Where is the carriage?'', She said between hurried breaths. ''We must avoid attention.. and noise.'' She brushed some brambles from her dress. It was torn now. She would have to make it work for the journey and have it repaired, but it makes appearances better for her tale about being daughters of a drunkard father.

Charlotte continued, ''The carriage is positioned at the opposite end of the garden maze. They're willing to take us to Cheltenham. I've made up a story for you as to how we're looking to go on a vacation to take the spa waters and sea air for a slight sickness.''

Yes, she knew exactly what she would do. They would both take the waters, say they were forced to move out of financial disgrace. They wouldn't say where they were from; simply cry. Strangers would take pity on a high class girl and give lodgings as charity. If not, they had money saved in one of her old shoeboxes.

Everything was set, waiting in the carriage on the other side-

Her lady's maid suddenly grabbed her, covered her mouth. Voices, she warned her mistress. ''We mustn't be caught. I implore you to stay quiet, my lady.'' Loud shouts filled the eerily quiet gardens. And then she saw it. Pitchforks. Flames. Lamps. Her white dress would stand out easily in light. ''Stupid debutante culture'', she swore. But she would be caught regardless. This was it. It was over.

But that was then then the Duke of Manchester came out for a smoke. He saw her and Charlotte and immediately knew. Her sister had tried this before and was forcibly married and moved away after with her new husband. He refused to let another young lady suffer like this.

And so, he got to work. If he had another opportunity to save another young woman, if not his sister, ''then at least this one'', he muttered to himself. He took a deep breath, put on the best polite, gentlemen like voice he could, and bellowed into the shouting crowd of men:

''Gentlemen! Whatever may be the issue? Surely at such a lovely event there is no need to be causing such a scene.''

She heard more shouting before the Duke managed to calm them down. She couldn't make out the exact words but could just about make out her father's voice, ''My daughter is missing! She's meant to be married tomorrow morning. She always had a habit of getting herself lost.'' But she couldn't make out the rest. Something about giving her time to come back, that surely she accidentally got lost and there was no need to cause a scene. And then a glance, a warning shot. She knew what that meant. ''Run while you can.''

Charlotte didn't hesitate. She took her mistresses' hand and sprinted across the garden. She didn't stop for a single second, only stopping once they saw the driver, who swiftly opened the carriage door and practically shoved them in. ''We must be quick, madams. These type of men will have my head if they could.''

The door slammed with such force the horses almost jumped out of their restraints. But with the crack of a whip, they sped away at a speed which amazed her; it was almost lightning speed. Her mother would've never allowed such a speed in London, ''it's unladylike, you must have more decorum when you marry. Don't be like those vulgar girls.'' The men began moving towards the carriage, but her uncle assumed it was simply another carriage, not from the party. The Duke was polite enough that for once, her father was managed; calmed down. Maybe because another man was speaking to him. He would've never tolerated a woman speaking to him like that, his pride wouldn't take it.

They had made it. She thought of the Duke as a friendly man who had helped her in her time of need.

But they were about to become so much more than friends.

It was a chance meeting; she didn't expect to meet him again in the Royal Cheltenham Assembly Rooms, going with her lady's maid from pump room to pump room. They had managed to secure lodging with payment suspended until further notice, but the owner wasn't going to wait for long. ''Your grieving is one thing, and I don't like to see well to-do ladies on the street. But I have bills to pay. So get yourselves together.''

It had been two weeks. She wondered how her family was doing, if they had recovered from the scandal. The disgrace. When she saw him.

''My lady. Fate is good to me. I did not expect to see your lovely face again.''

Her face went limp, and she smiled a smile which said she was enamoured by his grace and his kindness.

''Fate does prove kinder than foes.'' She said through tears. They both felt it; that surge of energy which bind them through thick and thin. Charlotte looked on with tears streaming down her face, dreaming about when she would fall in love as deeply.

They sat over tea, and that was when he asked, as if he could read her Regency woman mind, a mind which was meant to be so simplistic, so stupidly dull. ''May I be more than a friend to you, my lady?''