Ms. Amelia Pond was born to privilege. The only child of a wealthy Scotsman, little Amy was the apple of her father's eye. A sweet old man by the name of Brian Williams was in charge of the groundskeeping for their large country estate on the outskirts of Leadworth. He'd been at the job of maintaining the gardens on the property long before Amelia was even born. The same year the Ponds were bless with their daughter, Mr. Williams' wife gave birth to a son. Sadly, she did not survive the birth of her sweet little boy. They named him Rory.

Little Amy grew up alongside Rory as if they were siblings. But as they began to grow into adulthood, their differences became more pronounced. She was bred for high society life. He was the son of a common groundskeeper. Both had grown to feel a more ardent love for one another beyond that of their childhood friendship. But both hid such feelings within their heavy hearts under the assumption that the other would not reciprocate their passions.

Amelia was a beautiful young woman, slender and graceful. Delicate as her looks were, she was no shrinking violet. She would climb trees and run faster than Rory ever could. Amelia prided herself on her ability to out perform any man she wanted. Her father loved the fervor of his daughter's spirit. But it was much to the disliking of her mother, who found her daughter's behavior distastefully unladylike. Such competitive behavior intimidated her would-be suitors, of which Amelia had many. Amelia's mother pleaded for her to soften her demeanor. Amelia replied, "What does a man have to give me if he be too spineless to match his own ambitions to the strength of my own?"

Young Mr. Rory Williams had come to own the apothecary in town by the age of 20. He was an apprentice for a time before his master, an old and frail physician, passed away. It suddenly fell on Rory to be the town's medic. Not so interested in his father's trade, Williams however become interested in the gardens for the healing properties of the plants and herbs grown there. He was lucky enough to find that Mr. Pond was more than willing to allow him access to his personal library. Rory quickly learned a great deal about medicine and midwifery. A servant of the Pond household, a Ms. Martha Jones, had some experience on the subject of midwifery as she had helped deliver some of her own sister's children. Rory asked if she'd like to come along as a partner in his apothecary, much to Ms. Jones surprise.

Ms. Jones feared associating with Rory in his business would deter customers from him because of the prejudice against her race. It was decided she'd act as a maid in front of patrons for the sake of appearances. But Mr. Williams insisted on giving her equal share of their earnings. For behind closed doors, she played an extensive role in advising him on prescriptions and remedies.

"You've studied all the same books as I have. There's no reason to suggest my knowledge is any more superior to yours." Rory explained. "I'm not inclined to believe the old notion that one's sex hinders one from higher learning."

"Or that my very skin should likewise hinder me." Replied Ms. Jones. "That's two strikes against me."

Williams shook his head understandingly. "You know where I stand on the matter."

"Yes, you're a rebel abolitionist." Martha chuckled.

Mr. Williams smiled as he helped Ms. Jones put on her coat and bid her good evening. The sun was setting and Martha needed to walk home before it grew too dark. Williams did not need to travel far after closing up shop. His flat was the floor above the apothecary. It was some three hours after sundown that the bell at his storefront door rang suddenly. Rory quickly fastened his robe and ran downstairs.

It was Ms. Amelia Pond, her cheeks stained with tears. She fell into his arms and began to sob as soon as he opened the door for her. Mr. Williams quickly shut the door behind them. He guided Ms. Pond to the back of his store, where he sat her in an armchair and wrapped her in a nearby blanket. "Amy, what's happened? Are you hurt?"

Ms. Pond took a deep breath to speak. "Mother and father, they left for London five days back. Their carriage, the horses bolted." She could not contain her tears any longer and began to cry once more. "They're dead, Rory."

Mr. Williams knelt down in front of her and took her hands in his. "I'm so sorry, Amy."

Amelia wiped tears away and made another attempt to compose herself. "Oh, fetch me something, will you? You must have some draught to calm this nervousness I feel, this melancholy."

"I have some epithymum but what ails you, I'm afraid, can't be cured by any medicine. Time only can heal your grief. You must be patient and not lose faith, Amy." Rory stood up. "I'll head upstairs and fetch you a cup of tea. It'll help calm your nerves." He walked up the stairs to his flat and put the kettle on.

Ms. Pond walked up soon after to join him, still wrapped in the blanket Mr. Williams had given her. "Smells lovely."

"Jasmine." Rory replied with a smile as he poured her a cup. "Should calm you. I know how you have trouble sleeping."

"Thank you, Darling." Amelia took a seat at a small kitchen table only big enough for two chairs.

Rory sat across from her and eyed her dry mud on Amy's shoes. "I noticed you came on foot."

"You know me. I'm far too impulsive for my own good. My only thought was that I must come and speak with my dear friend. The thought of how I'd get myself back home didn't even occur to me." Amelia chuckled, finally feeling a calmness come over her in her friend's presence.