AN: Thank you so much to everyone who's reviewed, I'm so glad you all enjoyed the first chapter. As you can see I've decided to extend this from a one-shot, although I'm not exactly sure how long the whole thing is going to be yet. Anyway here's Chapter Two, I hope you enjoy it.

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Since New Year, four days previous, I have had the constant feeling that I am being watched. I made the mistake of mentioning my fears about my marriage when Victoria, an old friend of my Mother's, was in earshot. I must presume that she has told my mother as ever since New Years I have had the feeling of being watched. It is not a feeling I particulary enjoy.

Normally, in the days after New Year I would go for a walk in the gardens or get Lloyd, our carriage driver to drive me into the town, Spending sometime browsing for new hats is usually enough to get anything off my mind, at least for a little while. Except I do not currently want to into the gardens for every step I take I feel as if someone is watching me. That is most likely my Mother's doing but I can not ask her to stop making the staff watch me as she will deny it. It does not help that I have no proof.

I do not wish to go into town as my last visit, two days previous was highly uncomfortable. For the entire visit I felt as if I was being judged. The sales assistants in the shops watch me with a look of disgust. It is as if they know the choice I made. In fact they most probably do, if I remember correctly then Carla's husband is a close friend of his and Carla has always been known as a gossip. She has most likely told everyone she knows and they have told everyone they know, so now sales assistants are judging me. As if they have any right to. I am the daughter of a well respected, wealthy man and they, they help sell hats.

After two days of isolation I decided that I would have to get myself out of the house. I knew Mother would not allow me out of the house alone and I do not want a servant with me, silently judging me for actions they can not even begin to comprehend. So last night I came to the conclusion that I would have to sneak out.

It was easier than I had expected. I began my day as normal. I ate breakfast with Mother, which was an awkward occasion but it always has been. Then, after breakfast I declared that I was to go for a walk in the gardens as I needed some air. Except instead of turning into the gardens I carried on down the path that led into the town.

I did not manage to get very far down the path before I had to stop. I would have liked to be able to walk quicker but the pace I managed to attain was all my corset would allow. The easiest option would have been to not wear a corset but I would not have been able to get out of the house if I had not been wearing my it, not to mention that the thought of going without one is just scandalous.

I pause to get my breath back, moving over to the side of the path just in case a carriage comes past. I considered sitting down on the grass by the side of the path but the idea of crumpling, or worse still, staining, my dress made me decide against it. Instead I just stood by the side of the path, worries suddenly plaguing my thoughts. Has Mother realised I am not in the gardens? Has she sent someone out to look for me? How long have I been away? How much trouble am I in? I try to forget my worries by plucking a small flower from the roadside, slowly picking off the petals in an attempt to distract myself. A few moments pass in silence before a voice breaks into my thoughts,

"He really thought you would come."

I looked up to see Carla watching me from the other side of the near deserted street. At first her appearance shocks me. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, not the neat, regulated hairstyle she wore whilst in service with my family. Her dress is creased and appears dirty in places. The whole look makes her look poorer. Then I looked up to her face, she looked tired, exhausted even. Though it was her expression which bothered me most. She was looking at me as if I was a scab on the bottom of her foot rather than the respected, wealthy young woman that I am. I ignored her, concentrating once again on picking the petals off the flower.

"You should feel ashamed."

That little comment made me snap. Maybe it was because I already felt ashamed and I did not need some interfering pauper to remind me. Maybe it was just because I wanted to put her in her place. Whatever the reason I looked up at her and snapped,

"You do not understand my life."

She looks at me then, with a complete look of disbelief, as if she can not quite believe those words left my mouth. She looks as if she is not going to say anything, as if she realises her position below me and is not going to question it. She is not going to question me. Then something changes and suddenly she is ranting at me, a high speed, high pitched rant that seems to have been several years in the making,

"I do not understand your life? You think that after eight years. Eight years. Of working for your family I would not have some idea of what it is like to be you? Of course you do not. You are Elliot Reid, you do not think of others. You only worry about your own petty problems. You think you could not have left? You could have. You just did not want too. You liked the idea of it, you liked making him believe you would come but when it came down to it you like your perfect, rich life more. Well, I hope you regret this. I hope every time you think of him you regret your decision."

She then turns, walking surprisingly quickly up the road, towards my family's home. It was almost as if she was worried I would slap for her outburst. Truthfully, I was considering it even though I knew she spoke the truth. However that is not the way one should speak to those above them. I watch her for a few moments, before suddenly wondering why she is going towards my family's house. She is not in service with my family anymore, not since her marriage a couple of months previous.

"Why are you heading that way?"

She turns, giving me an odd look that asks if it is any of my business, then gestures towards the wicker basket she is holding, "Mary asked me to bring some things up." I momentarily wonder who Mary is. My thoughts must have been obvious on face as at that moment Carla scowls at me, "Mary is your cook. She has worked for your family near twelve years."

"Oh."

She says nothing in reply to that, instead choosing to turn away from me, walking up the path at a surprising speed. As I watch her leave I begin to let the worries creep in again, glancing up at the sky I notice a few grey clouds a little way away and decide now is probably a good time to go back home.

"Carla?" I call out, hoping she is not too far away to hear. I see her pause for a second but then decide to keep walking, obviously she has heard me. "Can I walk back with you?"

She stops at that, not quite able to hide her confusion at my request by the time she has turned to face me. She sighs as I walk up towards her muttering, "If you insist," as I reach her.

The silence during the walk back is uncomfortable to say the least. I had not realised how far I had managed to walk and considering that the path goes uphill towards my home the walk back seems twice as long. Not helping is the fact that every time I try to rectify the situation with Carla she just glares at me, or mutters something in a language I do not understand.

She speeds up as we near the house, obviously anxious to get away from me. I almost scowl at that but stop myself before I do, scowling is unladylike. I try to think of a way to persuade her to like me again, if she ever did. After her outburst earlier I am not so sure she was ever particularly fond of me.

My Mother is sitting in the parlour, I am informed as soon as I enter the house, apparently she wishes to discuss some wedding matters with me. The sinking feeling in my stomach confirms what I have been trying to ignore since New Year. I do not want to get married. Not to some man I barely know and am only marrying due to his wealth and connections. Not because I am in my mid twenties and my Mother is worrying that if I do not marry now I will never marry. I want to marry at a date of my own choosing for the right reasons. I just have to work out how to get out of this engagement.