If you travel directly south of Pemberton's capitol, Sutton, then traveled a few miles west, until you are about half way along the southern coast, you will come to this little seaside village, that the Carstairs family has called home for several decades. Up on the hill, over looking both the ocean, and the village, sits a small mansion, the Carstairs Manor. The happy business that used to bring the manor alive is less frequent. Although, the times when the Lady of the house returns from Court life, the manor is again filled with life.

Victoria ran down the beach, bare foot, holding her skirts high enough that the hem of her gown would not get too wet. She giggled and laughed, danced and played as if she were a little girl again. She had finally got a break in her duties back in her home village of Carson. Maria and Cathy were busy with mother/daughter things, and Victoria hated butting in on times like that. It had always been that they would do stuff when she did stuff with her father. Though, without her father around Victoria was left alone, not wanting them to lose their special time together.

Dressed in a light red gown, with only half of her medium brown curls up in a wire net, Victoria felt like her normal self. Not the young woman that was the Duchess' niece, but rather the girl who belonged to the beach, and to her village. Today she was Victoria Carstairs, the daughter to Stephen Carstairs, not the daughter of a Sherbourne. Today she was a young girl, and she felt like acting like one. She would run, sing, dance, and play in the waves. She would enjoy this last chance to enjoy the warmth of summer, and possibly her last chance to look upon her beach for a few months.

(just pretend I posted as Victoria, please .... *sigh*)