From Afar...my novel

Prologue

If there is one thing to which young girls can—and do—aspire, it is being in love. They know it is rare to experience such a state, but are determined that they shall be one of the select few to turn out victorious.
Rebecca Dumate never thought about such things. That is, until he entered her life, and then she could think of nothing else. The paragon of perfection and his family moved into the elegant Benbridge estate, just three miles from her own home at Marshall Hall, when she was eleven. Over those three miles lay a lake as smooth as glass followed by rolling hills of lush green grass that led right up to her back door.
It was while she was standing on one of those hills that she caught her first glimpse of her new neighbors. Rebecca had just won yet another race against her three brothers and best friend Isabella Buchanan when she caught sight of the wagons and carts full of servants and luggage. All of the children ran into the house and informed anyone within a hearing distance (and a few that weren't) of the new arrivals. Mr. Dumate had left the very next morning to greet them, and returned with the delightful news that a Lord and Lady Birkham, their two sons, and a cousin Mr. Winters were now taking up residence.
Her brothers had been understandably excited as they had no playmates other than each other, and her elder sister Mary had blushed at her father’s suggestion that she become introduced to the cousin, who was apparently very handsome and in possession of an equally handsome fortune. Mr. Dumate further surprised them all with the information that the family would be dining with them the following evening at Marshall Hall.
The dinner proved to be a most advantageous event for both families. Mr. and Mrs. Dumate found Lord and Lady Birkham to be as pleasant and amiable as Mr. Dumate’s first impression had indicated. They were very well dressed; Lady Birkham had the air of fashion and rank, though with none of the pride and superiority that plagued many of her station. She was exquisitely beautiful, ageless and elegant, and delightfully witty. Lord Birkham was a more somber man, content to let his wife carry the conversations. He, too, had a ready smile, and it was evident that he adored his wife, and that his sons had a great respect and admiration for him.
The sons, Andrew and William, ages fifteen and thirteen, respectively, were very well-mannered boys, energetic and loud, but very respectful. Andrew’s manner was that of a playful nature, and his brother was just as lighthearted who delighted in following Andrew wherever he led. As luck would have it, the Birkham boys became fast friends with Edward and Henry, the younger two of Rebecca’s brothers, who were precisely the same ages.
The most pleasant introduction of the evening was, without a doubt, that of Mr. Winters to Miss Dumate. He was very handsome, and gave as much attention that a single young woman, and her overly anxious parents, could ever hope to receive. Mary, ever the lady, received his compliments with all politeness but could not escape the slight blush on her cheeks. During the course of the meal, little was said between them, but it was not unusual to catch one of them stealing a glance at the other.
Poor Rebecca, being the youngest of the party, found the whole of the meal somewhat dull with no one left to talk to. She did enjoy watching Mary who was behaving very strangely with all her stares and blushes and strove to hide her giggles in her napkin. This won her a look of disapproval from Frederick, her eldest brother, who knew precisely what she was witnessing. Afraid of being rude and of his scolding her, Rebecca immediately plastered a solemn look on her face until she saw Fred cast a wink and a small smile. She returned his smile, and continued her scan of the room.
Her eyes rested upon young Andrew Birkham, who was chatting animatedly with her brothers. She noticed his crooked grin, very straight teeth, and the way his hand was running absentmindedly over his dark curls. He was very different from her brothers, she thought. He was handsome and charming like the prince of her beloved fairy tales. He was a pure example of a gentleman, in her estimation. He would never tie her braids to her own bedpost and then run away laughing. Her scalp still ached from her brothers’ prank last week. No, he was perfect in every way, and she could only imagine how her heart would flutter when he flashed that crooked grin at her. She heard herself sigh, and, shocked by the sound, began to cover it up with a few coughs.
Edward looked at her strangely, his eyes questioning her, but she merely pointed to her throat and smiled. He laughed, and that, thankfully, was the end of it. She breathed a sigh of relief, inwardly this time, and focused once more on her food.
When the meal was completed, they were all to go to the drawing room for further conversation and the looming possibility of a musical recital. The children dreaded the long evening of sitting still and talking about dull subjects until Edward and Henry approached their father with a proposition. The boys asked if they--meaning the two Birkham’s, themselves, and Rebecca--could bring blankets outside so they might all gaze at the stars and find constellations. Mr. Dumate consented and called for Thomas to take the children outside.
Rebecca noticed that Frederick shot them a longing glance as they began to leave, knowing full well that at seventeen he was no longer considered a child, and therefore could not escape the adults. She smiled sympathetically at him, but only received a scowl in return. Making sure no one was looking, she stuck her tongue out and ran to catch up with the boys.
They all went to the large hill behind the house, set down their blankets, and laid upon them; Thomas standing nearby awaiting any order or request. Rebecca settled herself at the end of the line of blankets quickly and immediately began examining the clear night sky. The boys were talking amongst themselves about this star or that planet, leaving her to be silent and thoughtful.
“And what thoughts occupy your mind so completely, Miss Rebecca?”
She started as she realized that the person lying beside her was Andrew Birkham. Suddenly she felt slightly ill but realized that he was expecting an answer and so responded.
“I was trying to pick a star to wish upon,” she told him, half embarrassed and half breathless from having his presence only inches away.
Edward chortled, and Henry snickered quietly. “Don’t be such a girl, Rebecca.” Seeing the slightly hurt look on her face, he repented. “Come on, old chum. Help me find Cassiopeia before Henry does.”
Rebecca smiled in forgiveness and started searching for the constellation. After winning that race, they started again with other constellations until they had exhausted their memory of them. They started indoors again, but before going in, Andrew pulled Rebecca aside.
“Pick out your star, miss.”
She smiled, turned back, and found one, a bright blue in the southern sky. She pointed at it. “That one there.”
He leaned down close to see where she pointed and nodded thoughtfully. “Excellent choice,” he whispered in her ear. “Now, you must wish upon it whenever you can, and you must never tell the wish, otherwise it will not come true.”
Unable to summon her powers of speech, she nodded obediently. Henry called for them both, telling them to hurry. Andrew grinned and ran inside.
Rebecca was completely smitten from that moment on, and was absolutely certain that Andrew Birkham was perfect, her own prince charming. And she vowed there and then, upon that star, that somehow, she was going to win the race for his heart. And Rebecca Dumate never lost a race.