Under my dress, my corset held me tighter than any lover, forcing me to focus on every shallow breath. As I fanned myself against the heat, there was a commotion at the door. A man in strange, tight blue trousers and a shining black jacket burst in. “My apologies, Lady Karen,” panted my butler, clutching the arm he’d injured in the war. “I couldn’t stop him.” “That’s perfectly alright, Daniel,” I told him, making a mental note to fire him. “I’m sure you did your best. Sir! Explain yourself!” He walked closer, swaggering in his heavy black boots. Perhaps he was one of the workmen repairing the roof in the east wing. My heart fluttered as I remembered how some of the brutes had attempted to catch glimpses of me undressing through my bedroom window. He was still coming. “Sir! I must protest!” I said, noting the muddy boot prints he was leaving across the marble.
