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| Chapter 1: Lauralee gazed down at the serene city of Paris settling in the dusky night. A cool and gentle breeze lifted one of her blonde locks of hair off her shoulder. Her white gauzy dress billowed around her and she sighed. She stooped down a little to rest her elbow on the balcony railing, and cup her chin in a milky white hand. Lauralee was lonely. She was 19, and in the most exciting city in the world, and still she was lonely. Her dreamy emerald eyes looked longingly at the brightening stars and blinked tears away. Her lips moved slightly. Perhaps she was wishing up those those stars. Wishing this loneliness could be subdued. It kicked and whined like a rearing horse inside of her. The sun was all the way down now. With a last breath of the night air filling her lungs, she turned and went into her suite. Chapter 2: �Lauralee, wouldn�t you prefer to wait a couple more years to get married? Nineteen is a dreadfully young age to even consider it. I don�t think you are old enough to be sure of what you want, to be quite frank with you.� I know what I want, Father, and I want to marry Daniel.� Came Lauralee�s tranquil voice. �Lauralee, if you marry Daniel, you will end up depressed and divorced. I am your father. I know what is best for you. I have always known what was best for you. I know Daniel is not the best for you, and I will not tolerate him as my son in law.� �But Father, please. If you only get to know him-" �I know him well enough. You should hear what his own parents say about him. I know he is a good for nothing who will eventually turn away from you. Lauralee, you will not marry Daniel and that is final.� Lauraless knew that when her father said something was final, he meant it. She turned helplessly to her mother, who was perching precariously on the edge of a white antique Victorian-era chair, in one hand she clutched a cup of tea on a saucer of fine china. The perfect picture of elegance, if the expression she wore was not one of worry. The tea had remained untouched as Lauralee and her father bantered, while Lauralee�s mother silently watched. Lauralee�s mother lifted a bejeweled hand to finger the string of large pink pearls on her delicate neck. A habit she had when she was nervous or unsure of something. �I�m sorry, Lauralee, but I have to agree with your father on this matter.� |