I’m a heartbeat away from dashing from the room when Lord Giroux’s gaze lands on me. I freeze in my chair like a rabbit sighting a hawk. Look away, I tell myself, but I can’t. His thick hair is ruffled from his early morning ride. In the gloom of the study, his eyes are almost pitch black, but unlike his…
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My eyes are puffy from lack of sleep in the morning, and Henrietta frets over them. I feel like a child’s doll as she dresses me in a pale green and white gown, lifting my arms when she tells me to, turning when she commands, but otherwise being very little help. Afterward, my hair is wrangled into another intricate pattern….
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