( 𝐘𝐎𝐔 )
Penelope Brooks was not a stranger to being in love, men chasing after her heart like it was a game of tag in a small playground- she loved love. So when her path crosses with the love-detesting Jo March, she is determined to prove her wr...
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DETECTIVE BROOKS was the mood Penelope was channelling today. She could barely focus on the work that was sitting in front of her, she was too distracted at the mere thought of not being able to figure out where the March sisters lived.
"Mother!" Penelope called through the halls, her tutor rolling his eyes at her wandering mind. Ethel made her way into the study, her hair all in place- ready to attend the luncheon she was invited to.
"Yes, dear?"
"Do you know of the March sisters?" Penelope put down her quill, the ink dripping onto her father's mahogany desk.
"I know of them, yes, but that is only from your story from the party" Ethel informed, catching her own reflection in the mirror on the wall. A smile on her lips.
"Ugh," Penelope picked her quill up once more, head down in work- pleasing her teacher.
"Why dear? What do you need?" Ethel flashed a quick look at her daughter, then back to herself in the mirror.
"Well, I've been invited to meet Jo tonight, but I have no clue where she lives" The quill returning to it's spot, sedentary on the desk
"That's just silly," Ethel turned around in one swift motion, always moving with Grace, "How does she expect you to find her?"
"That's just Jo, it's nothing bad" Penelope defended, picking her pen up once more.
"I could ask your father, I'll call the office now to see if anyone knows where they-"
"Mother!" The front door slammed open, sounding out through the hallowed halls of the Brook's residence. Martha's voice, echoing around as she ran up the stairs. "Oh, Mother," Martha held onto Ethel for dear life. "Please don't make me go back, I'll be good. I'll do my work, I will never complain about being homeschooled again!"
"What are you talking about?" Penelope once again put her pen down, a sigh being let out by her teacher watching the see-saw motion.
"That teacher, the man- he hit Amy March!" Martha frantically look up at Ethel and then to Penelope.
"He hit Amy?!" Penelope gasped.
"He hit Amy March, Penelope, I just said that" She leaned forwards, shouting at her sister.
"What?! I will be talking to the school, that cannot be happening. What was your teacher's name?" Ethel quickly stormed downstairs with Martha still in her grasp.
"The equation please Miss Brooks," Mr Jones gestured back down to her sheet that was yet to be completed. With a sigh Penelope set her pen onto the page. Ethel came back up the stairs, without Martha this time.
"I'll be back soon Penelope, I am getting a carriage to Mr Laurence's house and then we are attending the luncheon, your father will be making dinner tonight," She said quickly before taking off once more.
"Laurence?" The pen made no more contact.
"Yes, I used to be his secretary-"
"Does he happen to have a son?" Penelope sat up in her seat. Detective Brooks was emerging.
"He did... Now he just looks after his grandson," Ethel sighed, sneaking a glance into her pocket watch- she was going to run late.
"What is his name?" Penelope pressed.
"Theodore, why? Penelope I don't have time for this, I still have to write my letter to the school!" Ethel exclaimed.
"It's just that I met a young man named Laurie at the dance with Jo, they were friends-" Penelope sighed, her stubbornness getting the best of her, "Don't worry about it," She answered the first question on her sheet, "Just go write your letter" Her eyes rolled.
"You're so dramatic Penelope!" Ethel stormed off, proving just where her two daughter's inherited that streak from. "Also, Mr Laurence's grandson..." Ethel poked her head back around the wall leading into the study, smirk on her lips. "He goes by Laurie" She quickly letup her grin, rushing down the stairs. Penelope's eyes went wide, her standing up from the table in a rush- the chair almost toppling over from the force.
"Mother!" Penelope shouted, running after Ethel- her quill and her math left long behind "You're not leaving without me, I have to see Jo!"
