Welcome, my new friends, to the saga of the Asherfield family, as told by its often ignored and forgotten member. The outcast who was born with straight ash blonde hair among family of brown curly haired people. The only traits that gave me a family resemblance are my mother's shortness and my father's eyes

My earliest memories were at the age to two. Agatha, my elder sister (five years older), acted as my second mother until my parents had enough money to hire a nanny. Even then, at times, she carried me around and fed me. At this time, my mother seemed to think that attending and hosting society parties was more important than taking care of her children and my father was working more than he was at home. I almost thought my parents didn't love their children.

My brother, Henry (three years older) stared at me like I was a space alien. He was expecting a little brother. He always remained disappointed that I wasn't a boy. Though it seemed, at times, he got used to the idea, but then he did something that changed my mind. But, as I got older, I realized he only acted human towards me when he wanted something from me. He could be lazy, selfish and sometimes cruel.

I remember once when Natalie and I were coming out of our room, he smiled and looking straight at me and said something complementary. As I was starting to thank him, he snidely laughed and said that was meant for Natalie, not you. My mother had come up behind him without him knowing and she said angrily, "That was very ungentlemanly, Henry. Now say you're sorry." He did unenthusiastically. I nodded and we all went out on our ways.

When I was old enough to notice, I did think my parents loved each other because they kissed one another as my father left for work and when he returned. I also noticed some looks between them as they passed each other that seemed meant to be private. I was always watching surreptitiously because I was curious about everything as a child.

My father started out as a doting father but as I got older, he had opposing looks in his eyes. Sometimes of love and others as if I was a possible influx of money when I got married. I overheard conversations on this subject when Aggie turned fifteen and was getting prepared for her coming out at sixteen.

A major change happened when my sister, Natalie (two years younger), was born. She and my mother almost died in childbirth. The doctor told her she would never have another child. Since Natalie was a baby, everyone, even Henry, protected her. He was a second father to her. She seemed the only one he could show genuine love to.

Dad started working more and more as years went on. I believed he was very ambitious and always looking toward the next promotion. Justifying his extra hours as more money for his family. Though he didn't seem to be spending any more money on us. Most of it went into the bank instead of being spent on better quality food or redecorating the house.

Later I realized that was a misplaced judgement as he used some of the hoarded money to buy a much needed, bigger house after Natalie was born. It had four bedrooms on the second floor and quarters for three servants in the basement. The servant's quarters had a separate entrance. These were later filled with a nanny, cook and a carriage driver. There was also a wine cellar in the basement. The attic was big enough to house a playroom and a storeroom. The main floor had a big kitchen, a drawing room that could comfortably hold 30 people, a ballroom with space for tables and at least ten musicians on a loft above the dance floor like a church's choir loft, and an office of dark leather and paneling and floor to ceiling bookshelves. for my father. There were four bathrooms, two on the second floor, one on the main floor and one in the basement for the servants. Even though it wasn't the biggest house in the area, it still seemed palatial to me.

The nanny was let go when Natalie was ten because my parents thought we were old enough to take care of ourselves. The cook was also the housekeeper because she just helped cook for the parties which were held for major holidays and birthdays.

As we grew up, Natalie and I became joined at the hip because we shared a bedroom. Even though it was the smallest, it was still very spacious. It had two walk-in closets which probably stopped some possible disagreements on how to divide closet space as we moved into our teenage years .

Natalie was outgoing at first, but slowly grew quieter because of being overshadowed be both Aggie and Henry. She was much humbler than either Aggie or Henry. I tried my best to get her to come out of her shell. But it never worked. In our
bedroom she was confident that she would stand up for herself. But as soon as either
Aggie or Henry talked to her she became tongue tied.

Henry was called Harry until he was thirteen. For, in his teen-aged pride, he thought Harry sounded too childish and would only answer to Henry. He also started to act like the lord of the manor because he was the only son and he thought that meant he was automatically the heir. He didn't realize that Aggie could be the heir because she was the o daughters could inherit because all his friends happened to be oldest sons and were their families' heirs. Aggie let him know she could be named heir because she was older when she thought he was putting on airs. This caused fights between them at times. Natalie and I refused to get involved. Two feuding family members were enough.