In the day's dying light, Lady Timandra Lotterby peered out the coach window at the dark and shuttered house and wished she had never offered to accompany her friend, Eliza Tilbury, to Perfidious Brambles .
A cold shiver crept up her spine, and she squiggled uncomfortably on the padded seat cushion.
Eliza's trembling hand slid over hers, and Timandra felt instant shame.
She was here to support her friend, not give way to silly, baseless fears.
Yes, .
