Part 4: Marry Me, Marietta

Shropshire 1862

Marietta James hurried through the village, keeping her face turned down to avoid the rain. Why she hadn't brought her umbrella, she wasn't sure, but she always seemed to forget the thing on the days it actually rained. If she carried it skies would be clear. Now her one reasonably nice bonnet would likely be ruined, and there would be no money to replace it until next quarter day.

The click of her boots on the ...