1870, Philadelphia, USA.
Martha Whitcomb, the wild child of Philadelphia society, is now a grown woman, independent in wealth and in personality. At twenty-three, still unmarried and childless, she is exposed to constant rumors and ridicule, crushed...
Warning: This chapter is L-O-N-G. It also contains a graphic scene—if you would rather not read, skip from July 3rd, 1863 to the clock icon in that part.
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Even before he had come into the world on September the 17th, 1841, Benjamin James Morgan's life had been laid out before him, the path paved so clearly that there was hardly a crack in the set stone and mortar:
He was to be educated by the best tutors in Philadelphia, developing a close friendship with Caleb Noughton along the way. He would attend the University of Pennsylvania, pursuing his Legum Baccalaureus among the best of Philadelphia's sons, his friendship with Noughton giving him an inside track to the nearly airtight social circles of those elite men. As such, he would join the exclusive Phi Kappa Sigma fraternity and thus waltz into an invitation to join the prestigious Philadelphia Club, the very best of gentlemen's clubs in the city. In turn, he would be introduced to the sisters of these men, the daughters, the nieces, and the cousins. He would marry one of the very best ladies society had to offer and in doing so, elevate his family's position in those circles.
It had been simple enough, and entirely doable in theory. He and Noughton had become good friends, of course. Happily, Benjamin had always naturally excelled in his studies and had sauntered into Penn without much struggle, but that was where the plan had begun to fall off the rails.
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"I am telling you, Morgan, this will be your year," Caleb insisted, leaning close to Benjamin so others in the tavern would be less likely to overhear their conversation. Not that anyone would particularly care, Benjamin thought, but Caleb delighted in making a game out of any little thing.
"Perhaps, and perhaps not," Benjamin said. It would be déclassé to show an abundance of enthusiasm for this idea that he may finally be accepted into Phi Kappa Sigma—a true gentleman would never openly pine for advancement. Yet, he hardly had to feign disinterest—he truly did not care.
"That's the spirit!" Caleb encouraged, nudging Benjamin with a happy smile, assuming his friend was indeed downplaying his own optimism. Caleb had, of course, been accepted into the fraternity back in 1857, his and Benjamin's first year at Penn. He had recommended Benjamin in 1858, but the bid had been rejected. Apparently, 1859 was the magical year. "Oh, Whitcomb just walked in—Jesse said he has him nearly convinced to endorse you himself, so don't...speak too much."
