The lawns leading up to it were striped and lined with flowers, and Harriet imagined the gardens would be spectacular. “Are you coming, love?” her mother called to her. With a sigh, Harriet followed after her mother. Catching up to her, she caught that look again. The look that said ‘poor heartbroken Harriet.’ Since the divorce everyone gave her that look along with all the right sympathetic noises. She was sick to death of it. Anyway, she wasn’t heartbroken. Will’s new girlfriend was welcome to him, along with his sulky moods and terrible bedside manner. She should never have married him in the first place. If only she’d not been so optimistic and believed the sex would get better. What a waste of three years. Eyeing the grand house as they neared, Harriet snorted. Well, it sure beat her parent’s farmhouse. Since Will had somehow wrangled the house in the divorce, she was living with her parents. It was pretty humiliating having to move back in with your parents at twenty-nine but seeing the grand stately home filled her with determination.
What do You think about The British Bondage Collection?
