Lady Jane Ashcroft has what most would consider an ideal life. She has three estates, a husband who has a seat in parliament, and is constantly surrounded by servants and all the aspects of absolute luxury one could possibly imagine. However, under her elegant veneer Jane is hiding a yearning discontent of heart. Her “perfect” existence feels vapid and hollow, not because of any inherent fault, but because of a secret and inner comparison going on constantly. Everything Jane experiences is unavoidably placed alongside a private reference and always comes up lacking. This produces an ongoing dissatisfaction. A personal memory haunts Lady Jane every moment… the memory of one brief moment which occurred when she was twelve years old. She was lying under a tree late one afternoon and as she gazed upwards she suddenly felt as if she were floating in warm clouds, swept by rays of light in shapes and hues constantly changing, each feeling exquisite as they passed over her. Ruby red and then all colors of the spectrum flowed through her, each bringing a different, soothing happiness. It was as if she was a part of an eternally glowing sunset. There was music all around like angel choirs singing indescribable melodies surging forth as an oddly familiar feeling of being home where she belonged, bathed in unconditional love. All stress, effort, and fear vanished. Since that moment nothing that has occurred has even come close! Now all she can do is close her eyes, take a deep breath, and try to reclaim that feeling.
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