Here's my new story for Will. It might help if you've read my other story 'Rescuing Rogue' beforehand so you know what is going on but I don't think it would be that much of an issue if you haven't read it. If you have read 'Rescuing Rogue,' then this story is set just after Victor and Rogue's Wedding.

I have permission to use this picture as long as I attribute it so here it is: By Flickr user: hisa fujimoto Chiba, Japan people/hisa/ [CC-BY-SA-2.0 ( /licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

I very much hope you like it and please leave me a review to tell me what you think of it so far :)

Dolly's POV

'Dolly?! Dolly you must make yourself look presentable! Mr Edwards is here!' Called Miss Herwigg, running up the stairs.

'Yes ma'am!' I called back. Miss Herwigg was my nurse, nannie and maid although I never really called her by her name. She's cared for me ever since I was a baby so she's more like a mother. My mother was my father's soulfinder and ever since she died giving birth to me, he doesn't want anything to do with me, hence paying someone else to care for me.

I was sitting on my windowsill, just staring out into the garden at the tulip fields and windmill. We lived in a huge manor house in Amsterdam and my father owned a lot of land surrounding the house. My mother and father moved from England to Amsterdam about 25 years ago as my mother had always liked the place since her favourite flowers were tulips.

'Dolly Fitzgerald! You cannot go and meet Mr Edwards in your nightdress!' Nurse exclaimed and started going through my wardrobe and pulling out various dresses. I didn't wear clothes like the other girls in town. My father doesn't allow me to wear trousers or trainers since he says they are un-ladylike. Instead I have to wear very smart and conservative clothes which make me look as though I'm from the 1930s or 1940s.

'Here. Put this on.' Nurse said handing me a classy, emerald green dress which matches my eyes. I start pulling on the dress while Mrs Herwigg fusses around, to smooth down the duvet cover of my four post bed. After I'm dressed, she sits me down at my white dresser table in front of the 2000€ mirror. Almost everything in my enormous bedroom is pristine white since my father is more than a little obsessive over cleanliness.

My nurse gets to work on my hair, clipping the front section away from my face and leaving the rest to hang in ringlets reaching my shoulders. My hair is strawberry blonde or light ginger, whatever way you look at it. It's getting blonder now since summer is drawing nearer. I put on some red lipstick and a touch of mascara before my nurse gives me the heads up to go and meet my father downstairs.

'Ahh, Dolly. There you are.' He says welcoming me into the small study room. I smile and bow my head towards him and Mr Edwards. Mr Edwards looks at me appreciating from the leather chair he is sitting in. Mr Edwards is one of my father's work colleagues who is also from England. He is probably in his mid-thirties and extremely rich but not a savant unlike me and my father.

'You're looking beautiful, as always Dolly.' He says to me. I don't like the way he is lingering his eyes at my body, it's too personal.

'Thank-you, Sir.' I reply.

'Dolly, Mr Edwards was wondering whether you want to have tea with us.' My father asked. My father was a very wealthy looking man who I've only seen wearing suits.

'That is very kind, sir.' I reply politely.

I take a seat in the chair next to my father and take a sip of the tea in the fine china teacup on the table whilst my father and Mr Edwards went back to their discussion. I don't know why Mr Edwards invited me down for tea, it's not as though they actually talk to me. He just stares at me in the most uncomfortable way.

'Did you hear about the riots around Amsterdam last week?' Asked Mr Edwards to my father.

'Dreadful. People these days just have no morals. The police were absolutely dreadful in the situation and they're the people we pay to protect the streets? They're all a bunch of clueless clowns.' My father said, his frustration growing as he talked more about it.

'I agree. They let any old lunatic in the police force now-a-days.' Said Mr Edwards.

'Actually, I believe the police did the best they possibly could, given the circumstances. They stopped the riots in the end which shows some sense of professionalism.' I say. My father and Mr Edwards stare at me which shock and displeasure.

'What could you possibly know about the situation?! You're female.' My father scorned.

Realising my mistake, I quickly backtrack. 'You're right father. I apologise.' I amend.

Mr Edwards smiles with approval at me which makes my skin crawl.

'Why don't you go and do some painting or something more of your intelligence, Dolly?' My father asks. I get the hint, nod politely at my father and Mr Edwards, say my good-byes and quickly exit.

I walked over to my favourite place to be: the windmill in the tulip field which is a short walk from the house. In the windmill, I have all my painting equipment set up so I can paint facing out the window of the windmill. On my canvas I had half a painting of the tulip field however it wasn't quite finished so I took a seat and continued with my painting.

I love painting because it means that I can be in control of the outcome. I get to decided how it's going to turn out. I guess I like it because I have no control over myself at home. My father is in charge of every part of my life: what I wear, what activities I do, who I marry. I think my father is currently looking into potential husbands for me since I'm 20 years old and I cannot live at home forever. I wish he didn't choose for me; I want to choose for myself. I don't want some boring old man who has more money than God. I want someone more…fun…