Name: Jacqueline Braxton, Duchess of Devonshire.
Age: Twenty-One
Sex: Female
Appearance: Not unlike a lovely Lily Jacqueline's skin seemed to never have been freckled. A pale ivory color so smooth that it appeared porcelain. Still within the prime of youth her body was long and graceful, from what could be seen under appropriate garments. Underneath, however, she sported a courtesan's body, curvacious and full. A bust that was normally covered up much like her "old" demure personality was actually quite full and luscious. Wonderful golden locks shined brightly with health and thickness, falling in uncommonly straight tendrils to her slim waist. An adorable nose set perfectly centered on her heart-shaped face. But what really set her apart were the color of her eyes. An enriching vibrant amber, that looked sometimes like glorious rubies had caught fire. It was the "new" Jack that decided to quit wearing such proper out of style clothing and enlisted the help of her worldly maid to get the best designer in London to help her with a new wardrobe. One that would have the Ton set upon their ear, and make the Duchess of Devonshire the talk of the Season.
Personality: “Jack's” personality is a fierce one. She is a dreamer. Not a fanciful sighing little prat but more like an activist in adventure. Nothing ever really put her in a bad mood, unless of course it was a cold bitter day. She would stand up for herself and for her friend's at any cost. As kind person it wasn't such an uncommon sight to see her helping a maid with the laundry, or giving suggestions to the cook's new recipes. She was wild and free in this era, always riding her favorite horse at reckless speeds and when it seemed right...she was about to show all of London the new Jack, Duchess of Devonshire.
History: They whisper about her..the maids, the Ton, and even the stable boy could be seen blabbing some nonsense about the Duchess of Devonshire.
They say she is a witch..
An evil woman in the guise of an innocent.
This was surely the case; for what manner of a woman could lead her husband to leave the house of where he grew up so suddenly. To leave right after their vows had been said, to not even partake in the festivities, and to just vanish in the night on board his ship. Many had seen the Duke since that fateful day three years, but none had heard tale of him ever returning home to his bride.
Those close to the Duchess tried their best to quench the rumors, and tried their best to comfort the young girl but no one could convince the Duchess to leave the confines of such a grand manor. Jacqueline Shelton had been the youngest, and by popularity vote, the most beautiful of Lord Shelton's daughters. She was always the demure, shy child he had practically coddled since birth. It was no great secret of Jacqueline's timid nature and to cause even greater teasing was the lovely woman's stuttering when she was quite overwhelmed or nervous.
So, of course, it was a grand surprise when the Duke of Devonshire asked for her hand. He was known in London as the Black Prince. He was close friends with some of England's richest bachelors, and it was more than dashing looks that gave the Duke his name. He was a charmer, a mystery, a dangerous powerful man that had women swooning with just one look into his magnificent eyes. Many scoffed at the marriage listening. Timid little Jacqueline Shelton to marry the Black Prince?
Some of the harsher mouths in the tongue, younger girl's who were jealous the eighteen year old Jacqueline had caught the Duke's eye loved to dig their nails into the situation.
“He just couldn't bear the thought of her stuttering in bed! He left before he had to stomach the consummation!”
“Can you imagine? Such a fine piece of male flesh stuck forever with that cold demure fish, no wonder he took off. Did you hear? I heard he has three different mistress's one for each of his ship's trade routes!”
London had not seen any sign of the Duchess of Devonshire in three years, of course such a weak girl could never brave face their awful waggling tongues.
But then there was Kathleen Murphy.
A middle-school teacher with a firm agenda. Kathleen had everything she wanted, and worked for. A quaint apartment, her lovely Siamese cat Martin, and a job that allowed for summer's off to write her adventure novels. Her fierce personality, blunt mouth, and almost overly bubbly nature set her apart from the dreary folk that she worked with. She had no secrets, no real adventure in her own life, so when all of a sudden she blinked and was now tightly encased in a corset...
She took it like a champ.