Meg s Match
Titterington, Spring 1781Meg scrutinised herself carefully in the looking glass on her bedroom chest of drawers. On second glance, she decided, there was nothing terribly wrong with her reflection, or any sign of blotches, spots or, God forbid, crows feet, on her unblemished complexion. She let out an unladylike sigh. She was tired of these silly moods and megrims. After all, life was good and she had no reason to complain. Spring had almost sprung and life in the countryside was tolerable as a...
Historical