How the wheels have survived the journey so far astounds me. Nurse and I have been closed up in the pitching carriage for the better part of a week, covered with a warm quilt. It will be with great relief that we exit this bouncing, freezing box when we arrive at Mrs. McKinnon’s Finishing School for Young Women.
Already, at age 11, potential suitors are pursuing me. My father, in sending me here, hopes to secure the best match he can for myself and the family. I might even acquire a title. My dreams are filled with silks and jewels.
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