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Chapter 116 - Hundred And Sixteen
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She was dressed in a modest, high-necked gown of pale yellow muslin. Her hair was neatly pinned up, not a strand out of place. She looked fresh, innocent, and perfectly respectable.
Rowan was sitting at the head of the table. The remains of his breakfast—a half-eaten scone and a boiled egg—sat on a plate to his side. He was holding the morning newspaper wide open, creating a wall of newsprint between him and the world.
"Good morning, Rowan," Ines said, taking her seat.
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