“Miss Pigot,” Mr. Steele calls, “we’re just in the drawing room. We were beginning to worry about you.”
I walk through the double doors. Mr. Steele is standing in evening clothes with a peg in his hand. Mr. Wilson and Mr. Hastie also have on evening attire. I smooth my skirt and hold out my hand to Mr. Steele.
“I hope I’m not too late. I’ve been at Kidderpore all day. I’m so sorry.” I smile so my dimples show.
“The party couldn’t begin before your arrival,” Mr. Steele says, his eyes twinkling. Thank goodness he’s forgiven me for our disagreement over Mr. Robson.
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish
Comment on this Bubble
Your comment and a link to this bubble will also appear in your Facebook feed.