Isabella plopped down onto her back on her bed and let out a heavy sigh that was too exaggerated to carry any tone of real hardship.
Then Isabella got up.
Isabella strolled around the room.
She sat on the poof in front of her only chair. She sighed again.
This time Isabella jumped up with a force that could easily be mistaken for purpose.
She scuffed back and forth irritably.
She ran her fingers across the books on her shelf and then let out a loud groan of agitation before falling on her bed again, this time face-forward.
She even kicked her legs a couple of times, though she would never admit to such a childish maneuver in the presence of company, not even Catherine.
The case was all too clear. Isabella Thorpe was bored out of her mind.
And well she should be. How was a young lady to find any entertainment with her best bosom buddy away having adventures at an awful old castle with skeletons in every closet. No doubt, Catherine was off solving hundreds of murders, all without a thought for poor Isabella. She had faithfully promised to write Catherine while she was away, but had not been able to draw herself to her writing-table without the pang of heartbreak (she refused to harbor the word jealousy) at Catherine’s complete abandonment. How could she be so intolerably selfish? This led to another loud sigh as Isabella comforted herself with the thought of how thoughtlessly she had been cast-off, something she herself could never do to such an important friend as she. After all, Isabella could love no one by halves.
Her thoughts inevitably turned to marriage. That was where her thoughts always found their home when she wasn’t fully distracted, which was hardly really ever. Even a good book or dance would always bring her back in the end. It was her one true calling in life and well she knew it. She could hardly remember a time when she hadn’t known in her deepest heart of hearts that she would marry and marry well. It was her only choice. She had been blessed with breathtaking beauty and cunning and wit, but placed in an economic situation that prevented her from using these to her full advantage. So from a very young age she knew that securing a comfortable home was not only her only option, but also her duty. She had found a lovely, educated man who loved her to bits and would always care for her comfortably enough in Catherine’s dear brother, and was completely and blissfully happy. Well mostly happy. Satisfied, definitely. But maybe…just a little…bored.
Perhaps she could get into just a little bit of trouble before she was completely tied down. She was young, shouldn’t she take advantage of that? Who could blame a girl in her prime for not wanting her aptitude go to waste.
With that thought she hit the streets. She knew she was no ordinary girl, and right now she was a girl in search of trouble.