Soft white snow drifted in through the glass window. A cold winter air swept through the bedroom, sending a chill up Colette’s spine. Two stories below, a train of gaudy horse drawn carriages slowly delivered guests in an orderly fashion. Large colorful hats decorated the women’s heads. Warm alabaster muffs concealed their fragile hands, protecting them from the frigid temperatures.  Men in long cloaks accompanied the ladies, leading them towards the magnificent wooden doors.
Colette swung the glass shut, a lock clicked in place.  She stepped away from the window, tugging the heavy drapes over the sunlight. A subtle fire crackled occasionally in the hearth, emitting a soft orange flame. With a heavy sigh she turned to face the long framed mirror that sat propped against the convoluted wallpaper.
Today was the day. Colette and her father had traveled a great distance, over wretched paths and through harsh climate conditions to reach the heart of Virginia. At the close of November her family in North Carolina had received an invitation to attend a Christmas celebration in Williams-burg. It was to be held on the twenty fourth of December and her father, the Governor of North Carolina, was to be the honorary guest. Colette very badly wished to attend, but with her mother carrying a second child, she and her father were the only two who could take part in the trip.
As she gazed into the mirror at her reflection, Colette was surprised by the superlative beauty she possessed. The stays of her dress had been pulled tightly to her body, leaving little room for breath. Her bodice was fitted with emphasis on the waist so that her torso would create as hourglass shape. The long detailed skirt stretched to the ground, a waterfall of fabric spilling over her hips.
At the door, a soft rap traveled through the heavy wood, catching her attention.
“Yes?” she responded, her voice distant with thought. The door swung open, revealing her father. He was dressed in a black suit with a white lace cravat tied at his neck. Powder covered the perfectly groomed wig that sat in place on his head.
“Father!” Colette exclaimed as she embraced him. “I am ever so excited for this evening. It’s going to be just magnificent, I know it!”  She had been counting the days, waiting for this night to arrive.  A strong bubbly personality bounced through her words, allowing a wide smile to cross Governor Shay’s face.
“Yes I do quite agree,” he said, “however, Colette you must promise me that you will be on your best behavior tonight.” Her father gave her a small smirk.
“Oh father we have been over this dozens of times.  I am seventeen years old, I know more than enough about manners and ladylike behavior. You mustn't worry.
“Colette…”, he warned, dragging her name as he cocked his head with concern. She had a tendency to leave a path of beauty and destruction in her wake.  Her overconfident caliber had led her to take risks and find enjoyment from virtually any situation. As a result, she had experience with accidentally making a scene out of herself quite frequently. 
Returning his apprehended stare with a smile, she said, “I assure you that I will be on my best behavior tonight father.” Satisfied with her response, he raised his arm, allowing her to rest her forearm upon his.  Together they exited the room.
The corridor was wide and heavily decorated with paintings.  Some were portraits of men, past governors of Virginia. In others entire families were depicted, with each governor and his wife in the center. As they reached the grand staircase, Governor Shay paused. Taking Colette’s hands in his, he began to explain the process of entry.
“I will be announced first as the honorary guest,” he said to her, “and I will proceed to enter. Then you will step out and your name will be announced. Make your way down and I will see you at the bottom, do you understand?” His words were hushed and clam. With a quick nod she confirmed his instructions. He released her hands and took his place on the stairs.
“The honorary guest of the evening, Governor Shay of North Carolina.” The announcers words echoed through the crowd, followed by cheers and applause as her father descended. Taking a deep breath, she took her turn on stairs.
Colette placed a small manicured hand on the smooth wooden banister. Her long golden hair cascaded down her back in loose spirals. She wore a silver floor length gown embroidered with pearls and white lace, her corset creating the illusion of a perfect figure. A warm smile crossed her lips, greeting the room.To her right, a young man dressed in a navy suit with silver buttons came to her side.  Her eyes widened with surprise.
Where had he come from? She thought to herself, completely stunned by the sight of this familiar man.
The grand staircase swept down to the the first floor of the garnished hall in front of them. Her heart began to race.
“Sir James Peyton of Virginia and Lady Colette Shay of North Carolina,” the announcer spoke as the couple entered. Linking arms they glided as one to the floor, her silk gown shimmering in the pools of candlelight. She turned to him, her smile illuminating his presence. He stood half a head taller than Colette. From the moment she saw him, she recognized him immediately.
Two days after her arrival, her father had been attending a mid day brunch with the Governor of Virginia himself. Alone and unoccupied, Colette had found her way out of the Williams-burg palace and walked to to the town square to gain a better Virginian experience. In town she met a handsome young man with short dark hair.  He had called himself James, but nothing more.  He was a Virginian and he spoke with laughter and ease. Soon enough he had her explaining her North Carolinian roots. Although he had seemed loyal and trustworthy, Colette had concealed her wealth and class, purposely failing to mention her father’s title which would surely get her into trouble if she were to have been caught for sneaking out. She assumed he was a good working man, but certainly not who she knew he was now.
“You didn’t tell me you were the son of the Governor of Virginia!” She exclaimed in a harsh whisper. James laughed, locking his bright blue eyes with hers.
“You also failed to mention that you are the daughter to Governor Shay,” he said, “which, might I add, is practically the same thing.” Colette beamed up at him, his humor drawing her in.
“Alright,” she agreed, “I guess we are both at fault here.” Reaching down, she smoothed the folds of her dress.  James watched as her cheeks rouged with embarrassment. 
“How do you like it here?” he asked, attempting to change the subject. Her face softened from the forgiveness in his voice.
“This is such a lovely time to be in Williams-burg, don’t you think James?” Her enthusiastic tone made him chuckle.
“Our Christmas time celebrations cannot be matched,” he agreed.  Taking her hand he led her across the massive room.  Beautiful women danced, spinning and twirling in gorgeous gowns decorated with jewels and lace. Their dapper partners led them in time to the rhythm.  Live performers stood near the dining hall, emitting enchanting melodies that carried across the ballroom.
Placing his hand on her waist, they began to dance.  Waltzing across the floor, their conversation flared. Sharing stories of their pasts, they quickly found that they both wanted a way out. The pressures and expectations they were held to during their everyday lives did everything but satisfy them. Both wild hearted, they shared the dream of freedom from wealth. They wanted the ability to do as they wished and be who they chose. They each wanted to shed the weight of their fathers’ titles. 
Hours passed, the feast had been devoured in the dining hall, but guests had not seemed to clear out. In fact, it seemed as though the room was filling up.  More and more guests slowly arrived, packing the room with people. 
James spun Colette, catching her in his strong arms.
“I know of a less crowded place for us to talk,” he said. “Follow me.” Colette took his hand and allowed for him to lead her from the behemoth room.
Hidden to the left of the staircase was a tall wooden door that matched the rest in the palace. Pressing his hand against the heavy mass, James pulled a brass key from his pocket. He slid it into the keyhole, and the lock clicked.
Inside was a study, filled from ceiling to floor with books.  His father's desk sat with pride at the far end of the room, piled high with papers and important documents.
“The Governor’s study,” Colette exclaimed in awe, stepping into the room.
“Yes,” James laughed, “I thought we would be alone if we came here.” Slowly he shut the heavy door without a sound. She turned back towards him.
Being the gentleman he was, James stood by the door. A faint look of fear hid in his eyes and his body grew tense. He was worried of how she felt about him. By now she could tell that he truly fancied her, and this act of hesitancy was a respectful gesture, allowing her to make her decision. 
If she came towards him to speak, then she too gave sign of affection.  But if she stepped away, he would not pursue her or make her uncomfortable.
“Thank you for being so kind tonight”, she said, “I apologize for lying to you earlier.” From across the room Colette could see his muscles relax. Slowly she made her way to him, resting her arms around his neck.
“Like I said before”, he whispered, “no need to worry,” There was reassurance in his voice as he offered comfort and forgiveness to her apology. “Do you want to know a secret?”, he asked, mischief in his cerulean eyes.
“Yes”, she said firmly, curiosity creeping through her smile. He leaned in, bringing his lips to her ear.
“I was planning on escaping tonight,” he said, “I was going to leave for Pennsylvania, start a new life in Philadelphia. There’s a carriage outside that I have prepared with the hopes of escape.” His voice was excited and scared all at the same time. “But Colette?” he asked, letting the name hover in her ear.
“Yes?” she responded, eager to listen.
“You’re beautiful, and I’ve never met anyone like you.” He paused before spilling his mind. “I would stay here if that meant you would stay too.” She drew back slightly, lining up their faces in the darkness of the room. Her eyelids fluttered shut, their lips touched, soft, gentle, passionate. Their hearts pounded to the drums of freedom. His hands found her waist, then swiftly rested on her hips as they kissed. From outside the door a loud bang went off.
Startled, they both pulled away. Immediately assuming the worst, James pulled her close.
“Whatever we are about to face Colette”, he said as they embraced, “I promise I will keep you safe.” Pressing his lips to her forehead, she hugged him tightly.
“Thank you,” she whispered. Taking her hand he led her to the door.
Outside the study the room was in chaos. Men and women fled to take cover as a line of redcoats blocked the main doors.
“The British,” James whispered. Colette squeezed his hand. Turning to her, he cupped her face in his hands. “Colette, I know this is a lot to ask, and we've only just me but-”, he was cut off by her calm voice.
“James,” she said, “take me the Philadelphia.” Shocked, James’ jaw dropped.
“How did you-”, his voice faded with surprise. She kissed him, and together they ran for the stairs.
The moment passed so quickly Colette could barely make sense of what was happening. Her heels clicked against the hardwood floor as James led her through a crowd of people. Cries of distress filled the room. Her eyes searched for her father, hoping to take one last look at him before abandoning him forever.
They reached the stairs. As they began to climb towards their escape a man’s voice stood out in the conundrum.
“James Peyton you dirty lying patriot! You spy! Get yourself down here this instant so I can kill you myself!” Colette turned to see who was yelling such rude remarks at James. A red coat stood at the base of the stairs.  Two patriot men kneeled with guns to their heads. She realized that one of them was her father. 
The British man who had recognized James held a gun to the other man’s head. It took her a moment to figure out who he was. It was James’ father. Heartbroken but determined to save their own lives Colette yelled up to her escort as they neared the top.
“James! Don’t look back! There is nothing they can take from us now.” Obeying her command he reached the top without hesitation. A gunshot went off. She tried not to think about what that meant. About the death threats towards James for being a patriot spy. About leaving everything. About their fathers.
He took her down the long corridor she had entered through earlier that night.
“Which one is yours,” he asked, gasping for breath.
“The next left,” she instructed.  He grasped the handle and opened the door. Letting go of her hand, he began to pull the drapes away from the window. She opened the lock, the glass swinging open. Below the window and slightly to the right was a white lattice covered in snow.  He swung his leg over the window pane and began to climb across the roof. He leveled himself over the wooden structure and let himself down until he stood atop the lattice. With grace he climbed down and came to stand beneath the window.
Lifting his arms to her, he asked, “Are you ready?” Colette looked back at the room filled with luxury belongings that never seemed truly hers. With a sigh she gave a silent farewell to her past and jumped from the window. As she fell, the snow around her danced in the air. James caught her in his arms.
“You alright?” he asked, worried that the fall might have injured her.
“I've never felt safer,” she said with a smile. Pressing a small hand to his cheek she reached up and kissed him. With her securely in his arms, he kissed her back. 
The night was dark as the brisk wind howled in the moonlight. Colette nestled her head against his chest as James carried her across the grounds. An ebony carriage sat waiting for them next to the stables. Their journey together was about to begin. They were free.