filthymindedgirl

The chandelier above the ballroom at Pembroke House threw light like shattered crystal across two hundred sweating bodies, and Lady Claire Roberts stood beneath it wondering how many of these people s

The letter arrived on a Tuesday, which Wren Combs thought was a particularly cowardly day for delivering devastating news. Mondays were for bracing oneself, and Wednesdays were for absorbing blows. Bu

# Chapter: The Bridal Chamber The dress was wrong. Not the dress itself — the dress was exquisite, ivory silk with a bodice of Chantilly lace that had taken three seamstresses a fortnight to complet

The house had gone quiet by the time Wren heard the latch. She was sitting at her vanity in nothing but a thin cotton chemise, working a brush through the tangled copper mess of her hair, when the co