Lady Katherine Sutherland Vs Prince William Passimore. (On Hold)

Lady Katherine Sutherland Vs Prince William Passimore.

Time: 17th century

Place: London

Prologue

"Damn dresses!" I muttered. It was raining and my feet were starting to get stuck in the mud. My dress was sopping and consequently soaking me to the bone. I shivered as I strategically planned my next steps. My face had smears or mud on it and my dress was absolutely ruined. I didn't mind so much about the dress but I knew Mama would. She'd kill me if she ever saw the mud clinging to the newly fashioned silver silk dress. She was going to kill me, it was that plain and simple, my life was about to be over if not from my mothers furry, then from the cold I was bound to catch.
I heard the clock echoing and I stopped to count the chimes, five I though, my eyes bulging. I was going to be late. Giving up on trying to salvage the already ruined dress I dashed down the alleyway and around the familiar corner that was just a matter of feet away from our house. Or so I though, when I looked up from the street all that I saw was another muddy path and cattle lazily chomping on patches of grass. I looked to my left only to see a little cottage with white washed walls and a red thatched roof.
I shook my head hardly believing it, I'd lived in London my whole life and only recently had I taken time out of my relatively busy day to take strolls just outside the city. Mama had warned me not to get lost, but that's exactly what I'd gone and done. I'd been so mixed up in my thoughts to remember any landmarks. I was too busy mentally scolding myself to see the pile of building stones in front of me. My foot caught and a little scream releases itself from my throat as I put my hands out to soften the blow. I sat there for a moment staring angrily at the rocks before trying to push myself up. I looked down at my hand feeling a sharp sting then noticed a little trickle of blood coming from my palm. I sighed and whipped my hand on the bodice of my dress. I looked down at the rocks again feeling my foot being squashed between the two slabs. I sat up and pushed with as much force as I could muster but the rock wouldn't move. I was determined and muttered to myself about being a strong and independent woman. Which was quite ironic seeing as I was really a damsel in distress.
Just when I was about ready to give up and decide that living with my foot being attached to a rock really wouldn't be that bad I heard the sound of hooves thundering on the mud path. I twisted around to see who might be coming in my direction but the way my foot was caught prevented me from moving at all. So instead I ended up looking more like a fish flopping around than achieving my goal of spotting my saviour. I listened as the horse came closer then stopped, the rider dismounted and the sound of sloshing footsteps and a deep chuckle where the only things I heard.

Chapter one
I let out a huff crossing my arms and sitting rigid in the mud. The chuckle progressed into a hearty laugh that seemed to go on for much longer than necessary.
"If you're quite finished, some help would be appreciated, sir" I said, my tone anything but amused. The man made his way into my line of vision and my suddenly sour mood seemed to decrease slightly.
He was tall with dark brown hair that had been combed with his fingers to prevent the rain from having it plastered to his forehand. His eyes were an almost pricing blue and his lips were pursed into an amused smirk.
"Since you asked for help so nicely, I don't see how I could refuse, madam!" He said sarcastically. His voice was deep and almost husky sounding. Almost without effort the man pushed the stone aside releasing my foot from its restraints. He reached a hand out and I latched onto it not bothering that I'd splashes mud on his already soaking white shirt.
"Thank you and good day sir." I said turning and walking in the opposite direction of him. I stopped though when he called out to me.
"Might I assist you home, My lady?" He asked catching up to me. I stopped and turned towards him.
"How is it you don't think this is my home?" I asked raising my hand and signalling to the area around us.
"You clearly come from the heart of London, your dress and language is far too grand for these parts" he said quickly, his eyes leaving her face to glance at her muddy dress.
It was against societal rules to be speaking to someone of the opposite gender without a proper introduction and chaperone. But I just rolled my eyes, it was too late now, I'd already spoken to him more than I should have, why stop?
"It so happens that you are correct, I am not from here. I will so graciously allow you to take me home." I said looking past him to the stunning black stallion behind him. Looks like he isn't from around here either I thought.
"Where does the lady live, miss..." He paused clearly waiting for my name.
"Lady Katherine Sutherland. It's 400 Oxford street, Bellingham hall." I said watching his face closely. There wasn't any indication of recognition at the name I thought curiously. I shrugged it off, perhaps he wasn't from London.
The man swung up onto the horse and hoisted me onto the saddle with him. He took hold of the reins and steered the horse in the opposite direction of where I'd started walking.
We rode in silence, I sat rigidly as the mans chest was pressed to my back. I could feel the slow and even beating of his heart. My mind was working over time as I thought of stories of girls being taken captive and ruined.
I watched my surroundings with a hope of seeing something familiar to put me at ease that this man was really taking me home and not kidnapping me.
Curiosity got the best of me though and I broke the silence As we plodded through the dense farmland and into the farthest outreaches of the town.
"Sir, where are we?" I asked trying to keep my voice from revealing my terror.
"Just out side of London, My Lady." He replied his voice remained calm and steady. I nodded slightly feeling relieve was over me as I recognized a house.
The horse came to a slow walk as we rounded the familiar corner and not a yard away was the house.
It stood tall and elegant with its perfectly white frames and large glass windows. It was next to the main road and it presented a perfect contrast of the typical London style of life with the horse drawn carriages gently rolling by.
The man pulled gently on the reins and the horse came to a stop immediately outside the house. He dismounted and put his hands on either side of my torso and gently lifted me off the horse putting me down next to him.
"Thank you sir." I tried searing my mind for a name only to come up empty. She'd forgotten to ask for his name.