Isadora arrived at D'Aragon Hall with her heart pounding against her ribs. She tried to school her expression and be calm, but her fingers kept toying with the edge of her sleeve. Nora's teasing words still echoed in her mind.
Why are you trying to look so lovely for him, my lady?
Because it wasn't just tea. It hadn't been for a long time.
A servant led her into the sitting room. And then there he was.
Lucien stood by the window, the afternoon light catching the silver embroidery on his dark-green coat. He turned his head as she entered, and when his eyes found hers — clear, steady, seeing — her throat tightened.
Without a word, she crossed the room, and the moment she stood before him, her emotions caught in her throat.
Lucien's lips curved. "You look beautiful," he said softly.
