1880s -- fiction
March 12, 1888
She was waiting for her fiancé.
In the fine house on Fifth Avenue, Prudence MacKenzie wrapped her shawl a little tighter around her and looked out onto piles of snow that blanketed everything in glittering cold and listened to the wind howl as it paralyzed the city.
New Yorkers were used to dealing with snow, but the blizzard that struck on that late winter day was one for the history books. Surely her fiancé Charles wasn’t out in it. Surely. He was a sensible man, after all.
“It’s a pity you’re not prettier,” or words to that effect seem to follow March Middleton everywhere she goes. She is alone in the world after her surgeon-father’s death, her mother having died at her birth. With no marriage prospects and frankly no desire for wedlock, apparently penniless March accepts an old family friend’s invitation to be his ward. After all, London must be more interesting than the placid English countryside.