Reeling from her conversation with her uncle, Eliza storms through the house, not saying a word to anyone. Reaching the dining room she throws herself into the nearest chair with a muffled outcry. Her stomach groans its hunger, the food from before is still there, looking so enticing to the angry Eliza.

She furiously butters a slice of toast, she takes a bite and her stomach begins to settle. The combination of freshly baked bread and homemade butter has her closing her eyes in food bliss. Her tea is where she left it so she takes a drink and gags. "Damnation," Eliza mutters quietly and places the cold cup back.

A few slices of toast and butter later her stomach is happy and Eliza has calmed considerably. Leaving the table she crosses the staircase and stops at the front door to pull on some slippers, she opens the grand door with a heavy tug and a cold blast of morning air hits her directly in the face. Wincing she looks around for a shawl of some kind and spots a fur scarf belonging to her uncle on a side table. With a quick look around Eliza steals the material and wraps it around her shoulder before slipping out of the door.

Immediately in front is the driveway, a mile-long stretch of gravel and stones. The path is lined with towering oak trees and a meter high hedge and to the right is Ryddan forest.

The gardens at Ryddan Manor are famed for once being beautiful however Benjamin has neglected them so they have become wild and overgrown. Past the front courtyard and into the east garden there is a secret path hidden by brambles and thorns which leads to Eliza's Orchard, it, of course, belongs to her Uncle but she doubts he even knew of its existence, therefore, she claims it as her own.

The few rows of apple trees became Eliza's solstice when tragedy struck. The initial death of her father followed by her sister had Eliza seeking a lonely place to grieve without being spied on. While running from her mother she fell upon this discovery, a haven for a sad and lonely child. No one can ever find her there, it is truly a secret garden.

Skipping off the top step Eliza runs around the east side of the house and stops when she becomes level with the water fountain. The east garden is a rectangle with three meter high hedges lying on the edges. The water fountain sits proudly at the head, a beautiful circular basin with a stone willow tree standing central, water gushes from the branches into the clear blue pool below. To the left of the fountain there is a small crack in the hedge, only just big enough for Eliza to crawl through, on the other side is an archway of blackberry bushes and blackcurrants. Careful not to catch her clothing or hair she crouches through the arch and comes upon her orchard.

In relation to the house and garden, the secret orchard is situated next to the entrance of the estate and follows the drive up to the house. In her secret orchard on the cold frosty morning of November Eliza hugs the fur closer to her and finds her favourite tree, a twisted and knobbly trunk, perfect for climbing. With one foot on a ledge in the tree, Eliza securely holds onto the branches and hauls herself up until she is sitting on a think branch, her legs lying flat on the body of the branch. Nestled in the trunk provides her with a little protection from the bitter air. Her hands glow with cold and she tucks them into her makeshift shawl. Head resting against the wood, Eliza enters her thoughts.

Her uncle will no doubt be livid with her when she returns, to top that the Hunt is beginning today. Eliza's father taught her how to hunt, she was rather good and shot her first deer when she was ten. The Hunt was an annual event, each year held at a different estate, though women were not allowed to take part Eliza had begged her uncle and he agreed for her to watch, only watch on the last day. Eliza doubted that was going to happen after her outburst. Her father would let her, no argument would change that.

Eliza's childhood was a collection of happy memories, getting her first horse, playing with her older sister and having a loving family. All these things were forgotten when her father died, he was attacked and robbed on the way home from a social call, he bled out on the streets of London completely alone.The months that past after was a living hell, Eloise contracted tuberculosis and died a few days before moving to Ryddan Manor. Eliza's mother abandoned her only daughter three months after the move but despite the lack of care and attention, Eliza made the 7 years alone as enjoyable as possible.

The sound of hooves and loud chattering has Eliza emerging from her memories and she strains her ears to hear. Unable to hear much, she gathers her skirts into one hand and slowly climbs up a level to a branch that brushes the top of oak trees. Lying along the trunk gives Eliza a good view of the men coming up the driveway. Six or seven horses carry the men towards the manor with a few man servants trailing behind carrying rifles and bags. Golden retrievers yap between the legs of the horses, wagging their tails and bowling over each other.

Harrington sits upon his white steed and listens as the other men talk about the upcoming hunt, although he is an excellent shot, he enjoys hunting less than the others and only agreed to partake to accompany his best friend, James Eaton, Duke of Devonshire. Looking around Harrington has to admire the land, it is simple but beautiful. The house loomed upon them and he took in every window and terrace. It is stunning house made of white stone, ornate glass windows littered the front and lights could be seen beyond.

Eliza, unknown to the men had followed their journey down the drive and is watching from a crevice in the bushes. Hidden by the leaves she peered out to see who was there.

Stable boys rush to the Lords' aid and take the reins off the men as they dismount. Harrington swings his leg over the horse and lands firmly on two feet, he tosses his reins to a stable hand and peels his riding gloves off. The men gather in a group discussion.

"James who's the house is this?" He asks his friend who had almost fallen off his horse. James isn't the best at riding but he makes up for it with his company.

"Sir Benjamin," James replies as he wanders over to Harrington. A raise of the eyebrows has James continuing,

"He is the brother of the late Lord Turner."

"Turner?" Harrington asks, could he possibly be a relative of...

"He's Eliza Turner's uncle," James says with a cheeky smile, nudging the Duke suggestively.

"Oh really? How uninteresting." Harrington says coolly as he strokes his horse's neck. What did he care?

"You think? I find her a most beautiful and intelligent creature." James comments slyly, Harrington lets out a mirthless chuckle but doesn't contradict.

"She would make a perfect wife for you, bold enough to challenge you," James adds.

"You are wrong there, she would be an awful wife." Harrington asserts. "She is rude and plain and not in want of a husband, lets not even start on her personality"

"She will never make a suitable wife for anyone," he concludes with a smirk.

"I agree she maybe outspoken however I and several others do not find her plain, she would have many suitors if she did not scare them off." James remarks. Harrington rolls his eyes, of course, James and his brothers are distracted by such a minx. The door to the manor opens and out steps a man in riding coat and breeches carrying a riding crop. Both men turn their attention towards him, he walks down the steps and greets each man individually. After being introduced and thanked each man begins to prepare their horse with the help of an aid.

When Benjamin reaches James, Harrington hovers behind, giving the two men some privacy.

"Sir Benjamin, may I introduce my oldest friend Duke Harrington." James introduces the duke with a smile. Harrington steps forward and reaches his hand out to shake the other man's.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance finally." He says as his hand is accepted and shaken.

"You too sir, I hope you have a successful hunt," Benjamin replies politely with a nod, he turns to address everyone. "Shall we mount?"

Grabbing the reins off his aid, Harrington puts on foot into the stirrup and pulls himself onto the saddle. All the party mount their steeds and turn them to face the forest.

"Gentleman we shall start to the west of the forest and go from there when we return there shall be a feast to celebrate all kills, good luck to you." Benjamin nudges his mount into a canter and the men follow suit, cantering towards the forest.

Eliza emerges from her hiding place having heard every word Harrington had said about her. Oh, how she wanted to prove him wrong, what an odious leech. Tugging the scarf from around her shoulders, she marches on the gravel and storms inside, she throws the fur onto the floor and kicks off her shoes. Taking the stairs two at a time Eliza whirls past Cecily and slams her bedroom door shut. Breathing heavily she sits on her neat bed and thinks. He can say all he wants about her but she is determined to prove she can be appealing. Eliza looks at the clock on her table and her mind begins to whirl, planning and plotting. An idea flickers into her brain so she opens her door and hurries downstairs to find Cecily.

Cecily burst from the kitchen door carrying a full cooked duck with orange, scuttling on her plump legs she makes her way to the grand dining room only to almost crash into Eliza halfway there.

"Sorry miss." Cecily apologies, straining under the weight of the bird.

"No, it's my fault too Cecily," Eliza replies, her emerald eyes gleaming with mischief. Cecily's hands are slippery with sweat and the duck is in danger of ending up on the floor.

"S'cuse me miss I have to get the duck to the grand dining room." Cecily moves around Eliza and waddles to the room, with a tired sigh, she places the duck on the white tablecloth. Eliza had followed Cecily and is standing in the corner waiting for the maid to turn around.

"Cecily I need a favour," Eliza says as the maid began laying out different sets of cutlery for the return of the hunting party.

"Yes, miss?" Cecily keeps her back to Eliza as she is finishing to light candles and moves onto polishing.

With a deep breath, Eliza says,

"I need you to make me look like a presentable wife."

Cecily drops the silver plate she is polishing and it clings onto the floor, rolls a foot and stops. Eliza inwardly smiles, Cecily was delighted when she arrived, desperate to make her over and show her off but to Cecily's disappointment Eliza had not complied and although she got to pick a few dresses, it wasn't a full makeover.

"Are you serious miss?" Cecily couldn't believe what has just come out of her mistresses mouth. A chance to show how good of a fashion expert she was.

"Yes, I believe there is a ball tonight at Windthrope Castle and I need to look desirable."

"For who miss?"

"For me," Eliza snaps, Cecily smiles knowingly. Always for a boy.

"Well we'd better get started if we are to make it on time," she says and pushes Eliza down the hall to the main foyer.

"But tis only 11, the ball does not star until 5." Eliza protests as she catches sight of the grandfather clock.

"Tis 11? Then we have less time than we think. On y va!" Cecily declares. Eliza stops at the foot of the staircase and looks at her maid in wonder.

With a shrug, Cecily says, "I am part, French."