She brushed off Betsy’s enquiries about a choice of outfit for the day. What difference would it make what she wore? Edward’s opinion didn’t matter, and her appearance wouldn’t change anything, even if anyone else did happen to notice. By the time she got to the breakfast room, everyone had already eaten and left. She crumbled a cold slice of toast, spread a coddled egg over her plate, drank half a cup of tea and pushed herself away from the table. She looked out of the window and sighed. Fresh snow had fallen again in the night. The disturbance left by their snowball fight would be covered up. No sign that it had ever happened. She left the room, deciding to go back to her room. Before she’d come to Beaufield, she had found solace for many hours of boredom in reading. She would have to learn to do so again. As she reached the first landing, Edward emerged from his study. “Ah. Miss Demerham. Lucinda. I had been hoping to see you this morning.” He smiled, and Lucinda realized how infrequently that happened.
