Miley Destiny Williams strolled around the town market filled with ripe fruits, supposedly fresh vegetables, and endless array of poppies and daisies. She loved the scents flowers gave, especially on market day. The busy lane swarmed with vendors busily selling their produce. Miley pulled her basket full of grapefruit towards her, finally starting to feel the heavy weight.
She approached the flower stand where one of her best friends, Lily, worked, for it was her family business.
"Morning, Miley," Lily greeted with a smile. Miley smiled at Lily's dirty attire, and bonnet, yet still keeping a grin on her face. "Fine day today," she said optimistically. Miley smiled at her friend's Scottish accent that was so different from the proper English most people in this town was used to.
"Yes, Lily. A very fine day," Miley greeted. "What blooms do you have today?"
"Oh, just the regular poppies, daisies, tulips, carnations," Lily sighed.
"Well, I'd love to buy some poppies, but Father has said we must start saving for the hard times coming," Miley said. Suddenly, Lily's mother, a wise, elegant, and practical woman, walked up beside her daughter.
"Well, hello Miley. My. You look more like your mother every day," Lily's mother smiled.
"Morning, Ms. Trescott. Thank you," she curtsied uncomfortably at the mention of her mother.
"How is your father?"
"Father is healthy and well," Miley smiled.
"My my, how you have grown. You are nearly as tall as me, as tall as your mother I bet," Lily's mother continued. Miley shifted her feet uncomfortable at the constant mentioning of her mother, the mother she had never had the chance to know.
Lily, sensing her uncomfort, changed the looming subject of her mother. "Miley, did you not go to your first ball at the Hemsworths' last night? You must tell me all that had happened. I still am in deep disbelief you had gone to a ball," Lily giggled.
"Well, I just need to buy a few more sprouts for my father before I leave the market, so we should meet at my cottage," Miley smiled, swallowing down the unpleasant memories from last night.
"Oh, I cannot wait," Lily jumped. Lily's mother coughed behind her.
"Do you not have work to do at the flower stand? Your father is bringing in a new shipment this afternoon" Lily's mother raised an eyebrow.
"Oh Mother, please. I have been working all week," Lily pleaded. Her large soft hazel doe eyes seemed to be working as Lily's mother nodded. "Just be back by noon to help pick up your father's shipment," Lily's mother warned.
"Yes, Mother," Lily smiled.
"Well, good day, Lily and Ms. Trescott. I'll see you at the cottage in a few," Miley said after curtsying one more time. She picked up her dress skirts and hurried through the bustling crowd, trying to stay as unnoticed as life would allow her.
Miley entered the stone cottage with its large gardens and baking smell. She heard her father busily working in his workshop, an added accompaniment to the cottage after her father's store had gotten too crowded.
"Father? I am home," Miley called out.
She heard no answer back, but she knew her father had heard her. Ever since the embarrassing incident from last night, her father would not make eye contact with her. This morning, he barely greeted her with a quick good morning. She knew that she should not have been in the garden alone with a complete stranger, but she could not understand why her father had been so upset. He had seen her talking with boys before, he had even encouraged her to socialize more, but that night, her father seemed nervous and disappointed, except the disappointment was not fully towards her. She had spent the night lying in her small straw bed, wondering what could have made her father so upset. Maybe it had been the discussion with , maybe he was not enjoying the party, maybe he just had a bad afternoon.
Miley sighed, pushing away her thoughts and began to empty her filled basket, and placing each item in a designated place in the small wooden kitchen. Her cottage would have definitely been described as small, but Miley described it to be comfy. It was simple, and simplicity was all Miley strived for. Unlike all the other girls in the village, Miley did not care for a large manor, expensive and costly gowns and accessories, a luxurious life, and a wealthy good- looking husband that would hand them all of these dreams. This was one of the reasons that Miley had found a friend and a companion in Lily Trescott, for she did not care about money or the luxuries in life either. All Lily cared about was family, a home, and friends.
Miley had not been popular in town. Villagers had described her as skinny, pretty, simple, polite, and tragic. Nearly everyone in town knew about her mother's disappearance, but everyone knew that it was a subject to be ignored. Girls her age did not take a liking to Miley. Her father had always told her they envied her, but Miley always believe it was because she was different. Luckily, at the age of eight, she had finally found a friend in Lily Trescott, also an outsider, a girl who had moved into the English country after fleeing her homeland of Scotland. Her mother, Mrs. Emily Trescott, had arrived to England much earlier than the rest of her family had. Money had become a dilemma causing her to leave Scottland and her family. She had grown up along side Miley's mother, both working at the marketplace where Miley's father sold his handmade watches. Once Mrs. Trescott had gained enough money, without hesitation, she brought her family over to live in this new and foreign country that Miley had called home. Lily's difference in looks and accent caused villagers to repel from her and her family, but her and her father had welcomed them into the village with open arms.
Suddenly, she heard a loud knock. She heard her father coming out of his workshop to answer the door.
"Father, It is most likely Lily. I had invited her," Miley called out, but the voice that answered at the other end of the door was not a Scottish accent, nor was it the voice of a girl.
She heard her father invite him in. Miley wiped the squalor of her hands, and fixed the hems of her dress and her hair which was tied in a simple bun.
She rushed to the door and found a proper and wealthy looking man at the doorstep. The man noticed her behind her father and bowed politely.
"Good day, Ms. Williams," he smiled.
"Good day," Miley greeted back. Miley's father was standing stiffly in front of the stranger.
"I'm sorry Mr. Richards, but my daughter must go along and do her chores. I suggest we discuss this in my workshop," her father explained with a hard voice.
The stranger, who was apparently named Mr. Richards, left his gaze off her and gave her father a strict stare. "Of course, Mr. Williams."
Her father placed a gentle hand on her shoulder before walking into his workshop with following him.
Suddenly, the door sounded again. Miley opened it to find a red- faced Lily breathless and smiling.
"Lily, what is wrong with you? You look as if you had just run through the fields," Miley exclaimed.
"Oh Miley, such excitement happened in town today! You would not believe what I just witnessed!" Lily laughed excitedly.
"Lily, you must tell me, but we have guests. Come, let us walk around as you tell me," Miley said as she draped a coat over her shoulders.
They walked down the stony path, past the Hemsworth's house and onto a dirt road.
"Now tell me, Lily!" Miley jumped excitedly. This town rarely had any excitement, except for the untrue rumors that the middle aged wives spread through town.
"Well, Justin and a new boy got into a brawl in town today!" Lily squealed.
"No!" Miley said in disbelief. She could not imagine the 'perfect' son of the Hemsworth's in a brutal and bloody fight with another man. "Who was the new boy?"
"No one is exactly sure what his name his. All they know is that both Justin and his families are pure enemies, have been for centuries I hear. They say he moved here earlier this week" Lily explained.
"Interesting," Miley said trying to figure out if she had seen any new faces in town. "Well, who won?"
"Oh, they were both pulled apart from each other before any collapsed, but I can say that each got something to cry and hide about," Lily giggled.
Miley laughed trying to see Justin Hemsworth's face covered in bruises and cuts. "Oh, Lily! If only I had been there!"
"Enough of this. Tell me about last night! Was it as grand as the village calls it to be?" Lily asked.
"Not really. It was actually not as entertaining as I expected it to be," Miley explained.
"Did you dance with a dashing young gentleman?" Lily teased.
Miley blushed remembering the stranger's sweet face, and his gentle arms that had steadied and taught her how to move across the dance floor. She did not answer the question. "All the elite were just as bad as I assumed. All so arrogant as they believed they were all above me! It was amazing how selfish these people were, and Justin is just as bad as any of them!"
Lily laughed. "Well, at least you know now." The sun burned down against them. "Oh, it must be noon already. I promised mother to be back! I hear we are receiving a crate of roses today!" Lily exclaimed as she picked up her dress skirt and rushed down the end of the dirt road. "I will see you tomorrow. You must see the roses. I hear they are beautiful."
"I will be there tomorrow morning," Miley exclaimed already excited from the new shipment. Growing up, Miley had found herself finding gardening as a hobby. She loved the look and smell of flowers and plants. It was life.
She picked up her own dress as she trudged back to her cottage. As she approached her house, she noticed Mr. Richards getting ready to leave. She waited behind a sky- reaching oak tree, not wanting to confront the strange man again. He seemed impatient as he shook hands with her father. Her father looked stressed and nervous as he shook hands with a hard expression.
"I expect it by next month. This is your last chance, Bill. Think about what you have to lose," she heard Mr. Richards warn.
"I understand," her father replied before turning and going back into their cottage. Miley waited until Mr. Richards was far enough down the path, before she came and entered her home. What had her father been talking about? Why had her father looked so nervous? Who was Mr. Richards? She closed the cottage door behind her until a gentle knock sounded behind here in less than a few seconds. She opened it cautiously, not finding anyone at her doorstep, except for a single rose. She picked up the blooming flower confused. Her life suddenly felt like a mystery. She felt as if she had lost control of her own life. As she closed the cottage door once again, she felt herself tightening her grip on the single rose as if it was the only thing that was keeping her up in life.