Just in case anyone actually reads this

“Sweetheart, are you feeling well?” Lieutenant Cross questioned.
    Amorah had not yet touched her breakfast and her participation in the table’s conversation had been very basic; she found herself quite distracted and had not heard her father’s question.
    Cross cleared his throat. “Amorah?” he repeated.
    “Hhm, yes what?” she replied, breaking from her reverie.
    “You seem rather distant this morning, are you sure you’re feeling alright?”
    Though her father’s appearance was quite intimidating, his green eyes were soft and full of love and compassion for his daughter. Amorah was glad she had inherited these eyes, though the rest of her exterior was nearly an exact replica of her mother. Her skin was fair and freckled and her shoulder length curls were the exact auburn color her mother’s had been. She smiled at the thought, but quickly snapped to attention as to not dwell on the uncontrollable events of the past.
    “Ahem,” she recovered herself, “Oh, me? Yes, of course I’m feeling quite well. I suppose I may be a bit distracted…”
    Her father colored.
    Oh lord! No! She thought nervously. Did he really tell my father I had been kissing Jacob in the hallway? He really is a scoundrel!
    “By the excitement of our arrival!” she added quickly
    “Oh!” her father looked relieved. “Yes, you must be quite worried about the reactions you’ll be receiving from every girl in London once they hear of your engagement. Quite a few hearts will be broken, that I will tell you!” Her father laughed whole-heartedly at his joke. Amorah smiled at him.
    “Yes, father that is precisely it!”
    She excused herself and planned to return to her room after a stroll around the deck. As she walked along next to the railing she looked out over the sea, glistening with light from the sun. Though she often dealt very well with the passing of her mother, today was a day in which the memories could not be suppressed. She longed for nothing more than to curl up next to her and listen as she read aloud, stories of mischief and old battles; stories usually reserved for the ears of boys. Her father never liked this much, but he would have allowed anything for her mother.
    She was thin and tall and beautiful yet gracious and gentle. Her features and manners were of only the most elegant sort. She was positively captivating and anyone that had even the briefest encounter with her would attest to it. Amorah still remembered how her large brown eyes twinkled with delight up until the moment she died. The ocean breeze blew through Amorah’s hair and she sighed with satisfaction. Though her mood was melancholy, this was her first moments peace since her engagement.