ATTENTION: I've changed one of the characters names. Michael Gregory is now Christopher Gregory, just because I said so. Actually, when I first wrote him in, I was at a loss for creative names, but because my brother's name is Michael, I thought it'd just be too weird. Please forgive me!!

Reluctant Love (title subject to changes, give me a break)
by Maggi Lynn

Chapter One

Nora Willman stood at the corner of the small, unpaved street, her basket of fresh fruits and vegetables swinging carelessly in her left hand. With her right, she held out a few copper coins to the local butcher, trying her best to bargain for some meat for the evening supper.

“I told ye the price there, if I change it for ye, everyone’s be wanting it cheap. And then where will me business be, hmm?” The butcher was fed up with the young girl’s attempts at bartering with the local townsfolk. Her family was made up primarily of poor farmers, but that was how most families were these days. The year’s crop was pitiful and prices were rising left and right, just as more and more people found themselves on the dirt roads, begging for food.

Nora’s family would never stoop so low as to go out onto the streets to beg, especially Nora herself. She was almost as proud as she was stubborn, and more than five times as pretty. At a mere sixteen years of age, she was fully aware of the gawking stares aimed at her by the locals, but ignored them as best she could. Her hair was a long, straight, glistening auburn, and her face was pale with a rosy gleam to her cheeks. She was a bit taller and skinnier than most of the women she knew but she did not care much. She was not interested in attracting anyone in the first place. My first duty is to aid my family, she explained loyally to her mother on more than one occasion. That may be so, her mother had told her, but what good will you be to me, childless?

Children and a husband were the last thing on Nora’s mind as she calmly answered the butcher, “Now, good sir, I believe I saw yourself and the lovely Mrs. Redding yesterday in her garden while her husband was away…”

“We wasn’t doin’ nothin’ wrong, ya little busybody!”

“I’m sure you weren’t,” Nora reasoned as she admired a prime cut of venison in front of him. “But her husband may not believe such things. Mr. Redding is a proud man, sir, he will not take kindly to knowing of you seeing his wife while he was not home.” She proceeded to poke at the meat with her finger, waiting for what she knew was about to come.

The butcher sighed heavily, taking the defeat hard. “Ye go on and take yer damn meat,” he said angrily, snatching the coins out of her outstretched palm and wrapping the slab of venison in some brown paper. “And tell yer mother to marry ye off quick, so we can be rid of ye!” He shoved the package in her face. “Go, get out of here!

“And don’t come back!” he shouted as Nora thanked him with a smile and made her way down the street. He knew she’d be back; he also knew she’d somehow trick him with another one of her bargaining ploys.

A/N: Hey all! I know, short chapter. The next one's a bit longer, I promise. Do you like it? Review!! I'll make it more interesting, I just have to introduce the main character a bit. Don't hate me for making it so short!! I'm sorry!!

Chapter Two

Nora was very happy with herself indeed as she walked out of sight with her package. Her mother would be glad; their money was more scarce than usual and she had gotten the venison for less than half the originally asked price. She was smiling broadly now, and was oblivious to the wagon that was rumbling past her; it knocked her basket right out of her hands, sending her newly acquired food rolling about the street. As she bent down to pick everything up, another wagon hurdled toward her. She was forced to abandon her precious fruits and vegetables, as then wagon wheels crushed them into a fine filthy pulp.

Standing upright, Nora found her basket and set off with it; thankfully she was holding the meat in her arms, or that would have been crushed as well. She was tired, and extremely annoyed. And with her mother a bit ill and weak for the past few days, she knew she would come home to find the usually tidy house in shambles and her two younger brothers playing in the dirt outside. As strong as Nora was emotionally, she could not control her siblings one bit, seeing as they were as tall as she and almost twice as wide. They were unruly and messy, and had no reason to be otherwise, seeing as though they would never have been given the opportunity to receive proper education. They would grow up to be farmers, like their father. If they stay the way they are now, Nora often said to herself, they’ll starve to death their first winter alone.

Sure enough, there were her two brothers, rolling around in the mud in front of the house, while a few passersby looked on in disgust at their behavior. Nora ignored them as she opened the door. “I’m home!” she called softly, in a ladylike voice, so as not to upset her mother with anything less than proper. Their house wasn’t exactly big enough to start yelling for someone to hear you, anyway. It consisted of three rooms; a kitchen and sitting room cramped together into one room, and two rooms that were used as bedchambers. Nora shared a room with her parents, while her twin twelve-year-old brothers got the other room. The furniture was skillfully made; well, as skillfully as could be for a poor peasant family to own; her uncle who lived a ways away was an excellent carpenter.

Nora came into the kitchen to find her mother already at the hearth, simmering a pot of broth. She looked up and smiled when she saw her daughter, then frowned at the basket. “Empty?”

“Wagon accident,” Nora replied tonelessly, sliding the slab of meat onto the table.

“Again?” her mother was no doubt disappointed, but at the same time, amused.

Motioning for her mother to sit down, Nora got to work on supper. “Yes, again. I’m sorry I am so clumsy. But you should not be up, walking about. You are supposed to be trying to get well.”

“I’m feeling much better,” her mother said with her head in her hands. She looked like a wreck, and she knew it. “But honestly, Nora, your father doesn’t like me staying in bed all day when I am supposed to be keeping house.”

“Father wants you to get better,” Nora said as she ladled some broth into a cup for her mother to drink. “Do not worry about keeping house. You have me here.”

Her mother sipped at the broth gratefully. “And you are doing an excellent job. But I don’t want you doing my work, especially when you should be somewhere else, doing the same work for your husband.”

“I don’t want a husband.”

“You had better want one,” her mother said, her voice serious. “There is nothing more for people like us. We must all get married and have children; that is what we are here for.”

Nora wasn’t shocked at her mother’s matter-of-fact outlook on life. She had heard this all before, but it angered her every time. “And what, pray tell, are ‘people like us’?” she asked, dropping a few pieces of meat into the steaming pot with a few loud –plop–‘s. “Peasants? Or women? Or both? Or are ‘people like us’ something worse? I am not a mere ‘child producer’, nor a maid, and neither are you, mother!” she stamped her foot louder than she would have liked, a scowl plastered on her face.

“You will not speak to your mother in that tone of voice.” Her father’s voice sounded as he entered the kitchen. His voice retained a soft tone, but it made the two women jump nonetheless.

Nora looked up at him shamefully. He was a large and intimidating man, who worked on the manor with his fellow farmers from dawn until dusk. His skin was thoroughly tanned because of it, and his shoulders were immensely wide and muscular. His children had every right to be scared, though he had never once hit them, no one was sure if that would be forever.

“I’m sorry, father,” Nora said quietly, shifting her eyes from him to the floor. She knew she was not to speak negatively to her parents; she was hardly supposed to speak at all. But it was no secret that she disliked being treated like property, and she made this fact known whenever she could. However, at the moment it looked as though her father was not in the mood to listen to her ramble on about ‘women’s rights’, so she got back to her stew.

Supper was conversationless that night; everyone knew they were not to speak at the table unless the man of the house had spoken first, and Nora’s father had not uttered a single word. When everyone was through with his or her insufficient meal, Nora got to work clearing the places and washing things in the washbasin despite her mother’s urging that she was ‘perfectly capable of washing a few dirty dishes’.

Mr. Willman, however, agreed with his daughter. “Stay seated, woman. You are truly a stubborn one; I recognize where Nora gets it all.” He smiled gently at his wife and stoked her cheek with a callused hand. “We will find you a doctor tomorrow, this illness will not get the better of you.”

“But we haven’t the money for-“

“Hush, woman, I don’t like being told how I can spend my hard-earned money. Now tomorrow, early mind you, I’m taking you to a doctor in town.”

Nora looked on at her parents as she scrubbed the metal pot in her hands. They were now smiling dumbly at each other; her mother was looking better already. Nora sighed wistfully, a stray lock of hair falling in front of her face as she leaned over the washbasin. One would almost think she was hoping for a life like the one of her parents’, one with a husband and dozens of children. But one couldn’t be more wrong. No, Nora didn’t care much for any of those things. She wanted to help her family. If that meant sooner or later finding a husband, she would do it, but not because she loved him…

A/N: Chapter two! Omigosh, I'm so great. Feel the excitement emanating from myself. Yes, it is very, very captivating. I bet this is your favorite story, isn't it? You love it to pieces, don't you? It'll get better, I swear!!