Like None Other
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This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2010 Caroline Linden
Number 12, George Street, was a lovely home. It was new, built only in the last ten years, and contained all the modern conveniences, with well-fitted windows and floors that only squeaked a little and chimneys with impeccable draw. It was part of a row of terraced houses, with a neat little garden out back and smart marble steps with a blue-painted iron railing in front. Emmaline Bowen loved her little home, even though it wasn't nearly as grand as the country manor where she'd once lived as Lady Bowen. Unlike Bowen Lodge, this house was all hers. She liked being able to paint the walls any color she liked, from the bright yellow of her small dining room to the vivid turquoise blue of her bedroom walls. It was a joy to open her eyes in the morning and see that blue, brighter than a robin's egg. She often lay still for a moment, thinking that heaven must be such a color. She said as much to her maid one morning, when the girl brought her morning tea.