Okay, this is my first historical fiction attempt. Please let me know what you think. Not sure when I will post again and the only reason I am posting this without more written (I only have 4 chapters completed) is because it has been so long since I posted and people are begging for something!
Manhassets Bay, New York
May 14, 1893
Twenty year old Camila Underwood always said that saltwater ran in her veins. The smell of the sea was the first thing she smelled in the morning and the last thing she smelled at night. The sound of waves was her lullaby that put her to sleep. And she didn’t feel right if there was not sand in between her toes. The sea was her life and a love that she felt deep in the marrow of her bones.
Growing up in the coastal town of Manhassets Bay, New York, her father had been the keeper of the lighthouse for more than twenty years, and his father had served fifty years before that. Camila would spend hours walking the beach or on the catwalk around the lantern room of the lighthouse, watching ships pass by in the daylight, as they stayed away from the cliffs and rocks that guarded the shore. At night, the lantern would revolve sending a beacon of light into the night sky warning the sailors that danger was close to the coast.
Watching the boats go by, Camila would often dream about their destination and the people that were on board. Were they taking goods to far away places or were they bringing spices, tea and other needed imports? Was this the first journey for the passengers on board traveling to Europe, the Caribbean or other destinations or were they finally coming home after a long trip abroad? Did the ship hold sailors who decided to live a life on the ocean or were they a crew of pirates who also wanted a life at sea?
Daydreaming was what Camila’s mother called it. She wanted her daughter to get her head out of the clouds. Annabella knew Camila would soon learn all about the real world and life when she married within the next year, if she had anything to say about the situation and everyone knew that Annabella Underwood was someone accustomed to getting her way.
This marriage was something that Annabella had been manipulating since Camila’s birth. She made sure that her husband’s prominence in the community as the light keeper gave her the placement into the right social circles. Even though financially they were not as well off as some of their friends, the position did have its advantages. Before Camila could walk and talk, she had spent hours playing with young Franklin Jacobson, the only son of Thomas Jacobson, the owner of the largest shipping company in the state. While their mothers gossiped and shared tea, the two children would spend their days, first playing under the watchful eyes of nannies. Then as children they would spend hours frolicking on the beach, graduating to exploring the caves by the cliffs as teenagers, and Edward Underwood always welcomed the pair in the lighthouse. Over the years Camila and Franklin became best friends. After a while, everyone in town was use to seeing them together, for where one went the other was close behind.
Camila had been raised from a small child to be the perfect wife for her husband, and although she didn’t know it yet, her father had been approached by Franklin for Camila’s hand. Franklin was a good fellow and would provide well for Camila, which was all her parents ever dreamed about. Annabella figured that once they were married, Franklin would help rein in her daughter’s wandering mind.
Gone would be the days of walking the beach and staring out into the ocean. She would need to keep a good house for her husband to come home to every night and bare children to carry on the family name. Annabella had decided that Franklin should ask her soon, so that plans could be made for an August wedding.
Annabella watched her daughter carelessly stroll the shore, she knew it would take hours for Camila to become presentable. Dinner guests would be arriving this evening and although Bonnie, the cook, had everything under control, Annabella was determined her daughter would not look like a windblown sea muffit tonight. It will take extra time to straighten her unruly curls without the wind adding to the knots and twists. “Camila! It’s