I stiffly dragged my feet into our townhouse with Janine following right behind me. My hair was horribly disheveled from the persistent gusts of wind and my dress completely ruined. I certainly looked like I had a row with the innkeeper himself.


    “Dear Lord, sweetie! What in God’s name happened to you?” My eyes immediately widened when I heard my aunt’s falsely honeyed voice.


    “Aunt Abby,” I forced myself to curtsy all the while being painfully aware of my drastically increased heartbeat. What was she doing here? “Only a slight incident. Nothing to worry about.”


    The only thing I wished for was to barricade myself in my bedroom – away from her curious scrutinizing gaze which travelled from my toes all the way up to my bird’s nest. I fought the impulse to shrink away from her sharp, all-knowing eyes as I straightened my posture.


    “Ashlyn!” Dear God!” Papa and Mama rushed into the reception room.


    I defensively put my hands in front of me. “I was only spilled with a raspberry juice. I can assure you that all is well.”


    “So, how is Lord Stanley, my dear?” Mama asked me, before she plucked a stray rose leaf out of my hair.


    How in the name of Lord did that get tangled in there?


    “Lord Stanley? What has Lord Stanley to do with this?” My aunt suspiciously raised her eyebrow. That woman – like a bloodthirsty hound – had an astonishing ability to sniff out all the nonsense. I didn’t count on her visit and now I found myself trapped inside the web of deceit I’d so clumsily fabricated.


    “I was invited for a visit...” I said hesitantly. My eyes nervously twitched to horrified Janine, who twirled around and dashed into the servants’ quarters.


    “Were you now?” Aunt Abby unglued ger gaze from the leaf. “So, was his fiancée, Lady Hewitt aware of your appointment?” Her voice was like a sharp steel knife.


    She was well aware of the fact that I was lying and she was prepared to toy with me until I admitted the truth.


    “I, uh …” I helplessly turned to my parents – ignorant of what to say or how to evade the impeding predicament.


    “Ashlyn? What is the meaning of this?” My father pinned me with his piercing look.


    But before I could open my mouth, I was rather fortunately rescued by the loud knocking noise. Janine rushed into the hallway, gasping with astonishment as she hesitantly ushered the visitor inside. I am quite certain my jaw dropped to the floor when the person entered the reception room.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    This day was without a doubt a very unfortunate day.


    “Heavens! What are you doing here, Your Grace?” I hissed at Baxter Read.


    “Ashlyn, your manners!” My mother barked out with outrage.


    “This a-accident was m-my fault,” he pointed at my now almost pink dress. “It’s o-only f-fair that I p-properly apologize. Lord Caldwell, Lady Caldwell,” he lowered his head with respect, but only fleetingly acknowledged my aunt. “L-Lady Abigail.”


    She appeared positively radiant ever since he entered the room, but definitely not because of his charming presence.


    “But of course, Your Grace! Please do not trouble yourself with such things!” Exclaimed father with wide eyes before sending me a questioning look.


    I couldn’t help but to feel dread in my stomach as I knew where this was leading. I was absolutely certain my father ruminated over the possible ways how to rescue her defiled daughter.


    “Please do not misunderstand us – we are very honored you graced us with your presence, however, do tell us what exactly is going on here?” My aunt smiled sweetly, while feigning ignorance.


    “I a-accidentally spilled L-Lady Ashlyn’s d-dress with r-raspberry juice,” he admitted with embarrassment.


    Aunt’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Oh?” She turned to me with mock surprise. “Prey tell dearest niece, weren’t you at Lord Stanley’s townhouse?”


    “Ashlyn...?” My mother hissed all the while glancing between me and His Grace.


    “No,” I admitted begrudgingly. “His Grace here kindly invited me to take a look at his spectacular rose garden.”


    “Oh, of course!” My aunt nodded. “It was His Grace who sent you these beautiful bouquets after all,” she indicated at the vases filled with white roses, occupying every available space in the room.


    “Is that so?” My mother’s head snapped back to Baxter Read. Her previous suspiciousness hastily replaced with calculating curiosity. “That is very kind of you, Your Grace.”


    I pinched the bridge of my nose, sensing the uprising of the impending doom. “Auntie how do you know who sent me the roses?” I inquired distrustfully.


    “Well, I overheard you and Edith at the masquerade ball,” her voice dangerously lowered. “But most importantly; don’t you think it’s quite scandalous that you were alone with this young Lady... Your Grace?” Aunt Abby gave him a slow, malicious smile.


    “I wasn’t alone with him!” I jumped in before he could answer. “Janine was with me.”


    “Oh really? Who can confirm that?” She challenged me.


    “I c-can,” Read told her sternly. “M-Miss Janine and m-my servants c-can confirm t-this as w-well.”


    “Servants?” She laughed rather mockingly. “Servants are easily bribed, Your Grace. As for you, you can say anything you like, but it doesn’t make it believable.”


    “A-Are you t-threatening me, M-My Lady?” His Grace’s eyes dangerously narrowed at her.


    Without thinking I placed my hand on his forearm, willing him to calm down. However, this miniature gesture turned out to be quite crucial – a grave mistake I should’ve foreseen.


    Aunt’s eyes darted to where our hands touched, smiling widely. “I see you two have grown very fond of each other. When you so suddenly disappeared during the masquerade ball, I noticed he was missing too. What a coincidence, isn’t it so, Ashlyn?”


    It appeared as though the witch had planned for such an inescapable outcome. And I just served her a brilliant solution on a silver platter.


    “I was in a need of visiting ladies’ room,” I snapped at her.