At that moment, I nearly choked on my tea.
The hot liquid burned my throat, and I struggled to keep from coughing. Carefully placing the cup back on the saucer, I looked up.
All the ladies were looking at me.
Some were unabashed — their eyes literally pierced me, eagerly awaiting an answer. Others, on the contrary, covered their faces with elegant fans, as if trying to hide their interest, but the flickering glances from behind the lace slits gave them away. There was a palpable tension in the air of the conservatory.
To be honest, I could not have imagined that it was here, today, that I would have to face this question.
"I'm sorry...?" I asked slowly and deliberately calmly, as if I hadn't quite heard her.
Lady Maxwell, a pale young woman with slightly trembling fingers, took the fan away from her face and looked down, embarrassed.
