little lion man - mumford and sons 
4, January 1811 The wilsons are throwing a ball in their grand estate for the purpose of formally announcing the engagement of their daughter, Miss Helene Wilson.

@radio-surgery because of the item limit, I was not able to make another doll, but I did include Helene's portrait. If I can maneuver a way to make another doll, I shall do so.


“Oh Helene! You look absolutely marvelous. Congratulations.” I smile, placing my hand on her shoulder gently. Thinking better of myself, I remove it, settling for a quick and small embrace. 

Letting go of her shoulders, I notice the less than pleasant look on her face. My smile turns to a frown, and I raise a hand abreast, the other holding my glass of champagne. 

“I’m sorry Miss Wilson, did I do something wrong?” I give her an apologetic look, gnawing on my lip nervously. She shakes her head, and I almost drop to the floor in relief. I’ve known Helene for a while already, but we’re still in our ‘awkward acquaintanceship’ stage for now.

“Hopefully if it doesn’t bother you Elizabeth, but may I tell you something with promise that you’ll withhold it?” she asks nervously, and I nod, because really, whom would I have anything to tell to?

Her eyes dart around for a second before dropping her voice an octave and whispering, voice full of regret. “I’d be anywhere but here right now.” she shook her head. “ I don’t wish to marry. Especially Viscount Howsham. Goodness, he is well over twice my age, almost thrice!” 

A sigh bubbles in my throat and I nod, sipping my champagne to fill in the silence, thinking of what to say. 

“Spouse or fiancee is only such a title.” I decide on, not pressing further on what I mean by the statement. Helene nods like she knows, and I smile, gesturing to the flute in my hand.

“Never mind the matter, you look parched.” I gesture for a flute of champagne and it is brought over, the cold glass placed in her hand. 

“Oh Miss Rycroft, you of all people shouldn’t try to get me intoxicated.” I bite back a frown at this, but don’t say anything. It’s usually better if I don’t. 

She sips it anyway, and I nod bristled. 

My mind drifts to the show on the coming Saturday, the costume hanging in the theater’s wardrobe, more enchanting than the one I am wearing now. I excuse myself quietly, walking out to the garden to get some fresh air. 

The cold air relaxes me, the tightness in my throat relieving immediately.

All to shortly before I am startled by two strong hands gripping my shoulder, and I scream, but it’s quickly muffled by one of the hands that was previously holding my shoulder.

“Oh Miss Elizabeth Rycroft, would you care to help me with a little...problem?” The voice growls defiantly, and I shudder, thrashing around violently. 

“Unhand me!” I yell, this time breaking through the barrier of hand and cloth. I hear the rushing of footsteps now, coming close.

“Idiotic whore” the unidentifiable man spits, moving quickly, dropping me to the ground. I gasp, shaking, while two young men ( one I quickly identify as Damien Monroe, the other I cannot place) and a woman rush to my aid. 

“Miss Rycroft!” the woman gasps in surprise, and I push myself up, wobbly. She grabs my arm quickly, her small frame almost tumbling over with mine, before Damien catches both of us quickly, the other man behind him. 

I wave them off, breathing heavily now, shaking my head quickly. 
“No, no, this night” a gasping breath “Is about Helene, enough about me.” 

Damien sighs, waving them off, and I give him a shaky smile. He shakes his head with a grimace, easing up the grip on me. 

“Do you know whom it was?” I shook my head, moving the hair from my eyes. “He. He came up from behind me. I didn’t get a good look at his face.” I reply, voice still shaking slightly as so my body. 

He nods remorseful, and places my hand in his, leading me to my carriage. I flush hotly, but he doesn’t notice, helping me into my seat. I smile gratefully to him, flustered, and looks at me, concerned. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asks. I nod, placing my hands in my lap. 

“I’ve had worse on stage!” I try to joke, but it just comes out as an uneasy reminder. He sighs, kissing my cheek, and I blush again, making him give me a small smile.

“I shall see you this Saturday, Miss Rycroft.” he says, and it seems like he is already in character, the dashing Don Jose. I nod and smile, and he gestures to the horseman to take me home. 

I let my head rest against the back of the velvet wall of the carriage, chest heaving letting the up and down movement lull me.
Show all items in this set…

Similar styles


one comment

Wrote 5 years ago
lovely :D and i hoped you liked my doll for elizabeth - my story should be up tomorrow

Members who liked this

  • foreverforbiddenromancefashion
  • acciopenguins
  • shedefiesreality
  • p0rtal
  • coolbeans1342
  • americancvndy
  • donnambs
  • m00n-child
  • peschesuccose
  • lexuslou
  • jojo-radcliffe94
  • gwenlyne
  • opal-missoctober
  • cinemvtics
  • laqueenb
  • savannahbaybeez
  • planetlipstick
  • awesome4evah

More creations by nevi

Love this look? Get more styling ideas