Brustleigh had been created from layers of luxury. From marble in a rainbow of colors. From window after window, expanse after expanse of glass. I did not understand how the walls could stay up when they had been sliced so often to make windows. Some walls had even been pierced for no reason but perfect symmetry, for it was not to a room that they offered light, but to the back of a chimney or a small closet within the walls. No detail had been overlooked. No expense had been spared. “ ’Tis like a palace, Marget.” Joan whispered her words. In fact, we had both been whispering since the moment we had arrived. “ ’Tis meant to be.” Though I had started the sentence normally, still my voice had transformed into a whisper. I could not help it. I could not cast off the feeling that I did not belong here. That soon someone would come to order me out. “The earl means to invite Her Majesty to visit.” “The Queen herself!” “Aye.” “That I should live to see the Queen.” Once that thought had made my own heart quicken.
