 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
“I’m not her,” she said the first time the Commodore dared to take her hand in his.
And she wasn’t. She didn’t have Elizabeth’s fire, but her eyes were quick and intelligent. He could be happy enough with her.
“I know,” he said. The shadow of Miss Swan lingered behind his words. She gently removed her pale fingers from his grasp.
“When you know it in truth, call on me again.”
The heels of his boots resounded against the marble floor in the entryway as he left. She hoped he would return but suspected he would not.
Like any of these stories? Send me feedback at corrielle@yahoo.com.