The Name of Love - opening sequence
October 1787
I never liked my name. Mary Agnes Hepburn. The Hepburn part was acceptable, just, but Mary; plain old Mary followed by Agnes. Agnes, for goodness sake. I cannot think of an uglier name than Agnes. I used to ask my mother why she could not have chosen something a little different, something mysterious or romantic, but no, Mary Agnes it was and Mary Agnes it had to remain.
‘Mary was the name of queens,’ Mother told me, with a smug smile that did not help in the slightest.
‘Well, the queens can keep it,’ I said.
‘So must you,’ Mother’s smile did not falter. And that was her final word on the matter.
It was many years before I became reconciled to my name and then only in the most unusual of circumstances. I will relate them by-and-by, but as in all tales, it is best to start at the beginning and finish at the end, so that is what I shall do. Now, bear with me, please, as I wend through this story, and I hope you will smile when I smiled, cry when I cried and feel all the emotions in between. Being Scottish as I am, I am not very good at showing my feelings, but when I do, nobody is in any doubt of what they are. Just stand clear when I unleash my temper, and all should be well.
I never liked my name. Mary Agnes Hepburn. The Hepburn part was acceptable, just, but Mary; plain old Mary followed by Agnes. Agnes, for goodness sake. I cannot think of an uglier name than Agnes. I used to ask my mother why she could not have chosen something a little different, something mysterious or romantic, but no, Mary Agnes it was and Mary Agnes it had to remain.
‘Mary was the name of queens,’ Mother told me, with a smug smile that did not help in the slightest.
‘Well, the queens can keep it,’ I said.
‘So must you,’ Mother’s smile did not falter. And that was her final word on the matter.
It was many years before I became reconciled to my name and then only in the most unusual of circumstances. I will relate them by-and-by, but as in all tales, it is best to start at the beginning and finish at the end, so that is what I shall do. Now, bear with me, please, as I wend through this story, and I hope you will smile when I smiled, cry when I cried and feel all the emotions in between. Being Scottish as I am, I am not very good at showing my feelings, but when I do, nobody is in any doubt of what they are. Just stand clear when I unleash my temper, and all should be well.
26-30, F