Jocelyn found herself at the far edge of the Montgomery Estate property, where the manicured lawn gave way to a low stone wall. Beyond it lay the rolling hills that had unsettled her that morning—beautiful, distant, and symbolic of everything she thought she couldn’t reach. The wildflowers covering the meadow grew at their own pace, allowing nothing to stand in their way.

The landscape, always splendid and calming, rattled her nerves, and she could not pinpoint why. What could she possibly lack that wasn’t already provided?

Never in her life did she have to fight for comfort and privilege. Never did she have to wonder from one day to the next what was in store for her. Always the same, always blessed. Yet, she yearned for what lay beyond the glorious rolling hills covered in healthy grass and wildflowers that swayed in the wind.

Her fingers itched to sketch the rolling hills and wildflowers like she once did.

But it had been months since she’d last drawn anything. The charcoals sat unused in their wooden case, gathering dust on her writing desk. Her mother had called her art a ‘pleasant diversion’ when she was younger, but now, at twenty-five, pleasant diversions were meant to be set aside for more practical matters.

Like marriage. Like becoming the proper lady of a household equal to or greater than her father’s estate.

She climbed onto the wall and sat, letting her legs dangle over the edge, just as she used to do as a child, sitting with the only person she’d called a genuine friend—the boy who had long since escaped. From here she could see the narrow dirt path that wound through the hills toward the village. Thinking back, she couldn’t recall a time when she’d walked that path alone. The last time had been with her friend before he left for university.

By this time tomorrow, she would have made her choice—perhaps the choice she should have made a long time ago.

Excerpt © Autumn Cotter. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the publisher’s prior written permission, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.