Groves:

"I cannot help but think, Theo, that you are using my marriage to bring your wicked fantasies to life."

"So, we've established that my idea has merit and it's 'your' wedding now."

"It's your intended method to make it happen that's a suspect because it lacks decency."

This morning, following the rose ceremony, is perfect for the date I've planned. The sun is bright, the breeze is cheery, extremely so in contrast with my dear friend's scowling.

"Call it a necessary evil. You are in military, James. As much as you would love to accommodate your wife and let her spend her day however she likes, you must have one who is quick to gather her wits and put herself together in an emergency. A woman who is going to get ready for the Monday's ball on Wednesday is not going to cut it."

"And in your opinion this merits an invasion into the rooms of unattached women at an unholy hour when they are surely in the state of the undress."

It's fun to watch James when he says 'undress'. The word in itself embarrasses him.

"Aren't you slightly curious what your future wife looks like without her finery? It's you who will be waking up next to her every morning. I hope you don't want a sight more frightening than what we've seen at Isle de Muerta; unless you intend to sleep in the different rooms with your dearly beloved."

"I believe you are getting carried away by your no longer humorous comments, lieutenant commander."

"My method of expressing my concern may not have been the most proper," I admit. The use of my formal title always alerts me whenever I'm edging closer to trouble. "However, I maintain that my point is valid."

We enter the mansion where I've had a surprise installed for everyone prior to their arrival. My pocket watch shows six in the morning. James is clearly intrigued, but he is still reluctant to follow through with my plan as I head to the back of the room and pull aside a blue curtain.

"It's a ship's bell!" James exclaims. "You cannot be serious!"

To prove how serious I am, I break the silence with a swift tug of the rope, and then with a sole purpose of making enough noise to wake the people as far as England I ring the bell thirty more chimes under James' disapproving frown for making the most inappropriate use and entirely wrong chiming rhythm of the bell.

"It's time to visit our lovely want to be Mrs Norringtons," I propose once I'm satisfied that at least the birds around the mansion have taken off the branches with the indignant chirps.

James stalls. "I believe the message has been clear enough. It may be wiser for me to remain downstairs."

"I'm glad that you trust me to wake them for you," I say and slip around James to head for the stairs.

"Only as far as I can see you," he informs me, catching up with me in several long strides.

On the stairs we encounter fully dressed Yulia. She gives me a fright due to her detached look and shadows under her eyes. She informs us that she's been up for an hour, praying.

"We request your presence in the hall upstairs, dear lady," I inform her. She gives me a cold shoulder when my leg brushes against her skirt as I continue my trip upwards. James takes longer to get around her without touching, which is next to impossible on the narrow stairway. When he reaches me, I've already caused enough mayhem for the bedroom doors to fly open.

I practically have to drag James along as we enter each room to bid the ladies a good morning, and inform them to meet us immediately in the hall. Their reactions to our intrusion vary. Some, like Joanna, hide under the bedcovers. Louise is the first to open the door. She laughs and promises retaliation. She has the loveliest eyes, blue as cornflowers, and straw blond hair to soften her long, slightly heavy face. Her entire appearance is fresh, reminding me of a country. Why does James get all the pretty ones? That's right, it was my idea.

I drag my eyes away in favour of checking my pocket watch. I've given these women long enough to get their lacy, rumpled curls and ruffles out of beds, which most of them have succeeded in doing.

James stands modestly in the center of the room. He cannot be the harbinger of bad news; it's my job to gather the ire and suffer all pointy feminine objects jibed into my physical and psychological being. His only job is to look handsome.

"Ladies," I announce loudly enough to get through the dream remaining fog and panic that currently clouds their minds. "I've gathered you here to explain a few rules of staying in this mansion, and our plans for this week. First and foremost, the Admiral will not be residing with you. He still has duties which he insists on performing, and he will return to his home every evening. Thus, you shouldn't expect visits after ten due to his personal courtesy, although, he may visit this mansion whenever he likes."

I make a pause to check whether this information is sinking in properly, and feel disapproval gathering around the room like a grey cloud. I get unexpected help from Louise.

"Shame," she announces loudly, "and I've been looking forward to dazzling our bachelor with my outstanding breakfasts every morning!" Everyone laughs because a few years ago she caused a minor fire at home by trying to cook breakfast.

I wish James would reply humorously to her, but his sarcasm evaporates faster than water in the sun whenever he is thrown into a large company of young ladies. He treacherously stays silent as a stump and lets me do all the talking. I clear my throat and continue.

"Since you will not have the chance, yet, to interact with him every morning, it will be important for you to speak with him during one of the three dates, which yours truly have planned this week. However, not all of you will go on a date. There will be two group dates, and one date with only James and one of you. The last date will have five women, but their names will have to remain a secret until Friday. The one on one date will be decided by today's first group date. Everyone may attend the first date, providing you are fast enough to make yourself presentable. There are four carriages waiting for you downstairs. They are scheduled to leave half past six. Whoever is not in the carriage by then will be left behind. You will have no way of knowing whether you will have another opportunity to speak with the Admiral this week."

The women stare and me in bewilderment as I offer them my most pleasant smile. "You have twenty minutes remaining to get ready."

They nearly get stuck in the door as the mad rush to get dressed commences.

I am all too pleased with the mayhem I've created until James ruins my fun. "You do realise that, today, you must return the bell to whichever ship you've deprived it of and polish it until it blinds the seagulls with its shine."

I pull a dramatic face because this means I will not accompany James on the first group date. "Aye, aye, Sir."

Carmen:

I am the first to make it into the corridor where I nimbly dodge around Heather who is just coming out of her room to find out what's going on with Rhea close behind me. This woman never rushes, yet always manages to get ahead of everyone. Quickly and efficiently we help each other lace our corsets before others select their outfits. Rhea stays behind to help our roommates, but I won't risk being late because of some slowpokes. I nearly skip over the stairs as I hurry out onto the fresh, morning air.

Too bad I'm not the first to come outside. Yulia is already waiting in the first carriage. I run to the second carriage, deciding that any other companion will be more fun because she always has a disapproving look on her face as if the world offends her with impurity.

I speculate who will be late, while looking around curiously. Last night we didn't get a chance to examine the mansion externally. It is a lovely building built in a European style in cream stone, but I would love to get moving. Life is too short to spend on waiting. I'm excited because I have no clue where we're going. It's a wonderful idea to take us on a surprise date. It might have been better yet if we have gotten to see a sunrise.

Brenda:

This mayhem is unacceptable to a woman of reasonable standards. I head for my room behind all others, suppressing a natural inclination to panic because it is next to impossible to present myself properly in such an unreasonable timing. I must have at least two hours. When I've agreed to this experiment, I've never considered waking up so early, and I've hoped for a luxurious living arrangement. It's a shame that not only must I share a room with four other women, but there are no maids to assist me. No matter, I quickly choose a replacement among whatever I'm given. Nessa is a sweet girl of an unremarkable appearance. She has just the right deferring temperament that servants must have. She cannot make a step without looking for permission from someone to do so. Even now.

"My dear, you simply must wear your green dress. It sets out your loveliest green eyes," I exclaim when she pauses uncertainly before her wardrobe. "Green is a perfect colour for any uncertain occasion. It is muted, yet elegant."

I point to a dress that must be one of her favourites because it looks gaudy green and has the puffy lace that went out of fashion four seasons ago, but she seems to think it's perfect. "Oh, how jealous I am that you can pull off wearing it. I'm afraid I'm too pale for the green to be my colour!"

Her eyes fill with gratitude at an unexpected guidance when I take the dress and hold it to her. "Thank you!" she exclaims with sincerest passion. "But, my lady, you are surely the most beautiful woman here. You have the most elegant wardrobe! Last night your blue dress was stunning like a summer sky."

I smile, accepting the compliment graciously. People need to state the obvious more often. "You are most clever. I'll wear blue as you suggest."

She smiles, already pleased to be of assistance to me. Her eyes fill with tears same as mine in compassion as I try my best to look devastated. "But, this dress has such complicated lacing. Should I try to wear it, I will be dreadfully late! The Admiral will think poorly of me for it."

"Surely, no one can think poorly of you!"

"Oh, you're too kind, but I won't make it."

"You won't be late! I will gladly help you!" she offers all too eagerly.

"I couldn't possibly abuse your compassion," I claim as she shakes her head firmly to stop my protest, as expected. I offer my dress for her instantly to fall into assisting role. She is good at following the subtlest commands and makes a good job of getting me ready.

While she fusses over me, I take in her perfect skin and a rose blush colouring her cheeks so tenderly. She will beautify and glow, given the attention of a right man, and perhaps a new dress. She may be overlooked initially in a crowd of many beautiful women, but this average, spineless type could be to the Admiral's liking. I've better make sure that he never notices her.

An ebony cross on her breast catches my attention. She is a well raised goody two shoe who wouldn't dream of setting a foot outside her home without the proper blessings.

When it's almost time to go, I push her hands away gently to remind her that she too must get dressed. Nessa sees no end to my kindness as I gather her hair and ask her to hold them up while I adjust her collar. With her occupied and jostled I open the lock and slip the chain off her neck. I throw the cross into her bedcovers.

"There, we're all ready, and not a moment too soon!" I announce, putting the last pin into place, and spinning her around. I drop her hand, and head for the door like I fully expect her to follow closely behind me. "Oh, please let's hurry, and God bless our day!"

I know that her hand flies to her breast to touch the cross in confirmation of my good wishes, but she does not find it there. She will have one miserable afternoon looking for it.

Filled with ethereal grace, I glide to the carriages, where most of the women have gathered. The coachmen command the horses to move as soon as I sit down. "Oh, what about Nessa?" I exclaim, loudly enough for everyone to hear. "She was right behind me! It is simply too cruel to leave her!" My words only gather compassion from Lucia who is the only one to look back, but I only protest because I'm confident that the coachmen have been instructed to leave not one minute too late. No one will wait for the three women who have fallen behind.