The sun was beginning to set, casting long, golden shadows across the grand facade of Hamilton House. Inside the quiet drawing room on the first floor, the atmosphere was entirely different.
Ines and Aunt Margery were waiting for them.
The two women sat near the tall glass windows that overlooked the front courtyard. The tea in their porcelain cups had grown completely cold. The steady ticking of the mantel clock sounded incredibly loud in the silent room. Every passing minute stretched their nerves a little tighter.
Aunt Margery looked at the clock, her brow furrowing in deep concern. She adjusted her silk shawl.
"They are a bit late, aren't they?" Aunt Margery asked. Her voice lacked its usual booming confidence. It was soft and filled with worry.
Ines stood up from her velvet chair and began to pace the length of the rug. She rubbed her arms, suddenly feeling very cold despite the warm fire burning in the hearth.
