“She turned her head quickly to locate the wing chair, but William wasn’t sitting in it, keeping watch over her. She had begged William to let her sneak upstairs after their second dance. Anxiety had taken its toll—anxiety about being discovered, anxiety about her future, anxiety about being in William’s presence—and she had been desperate to relax. She turned on her side to stare at the chair—William’s chair, as she thought of it now. Where was he? Was he awake? Had he gone off to work? Did... he work? She couldn’t remember. The last thirty-six hours had been hectic. One moon down, only twenty-nine more to go, she thought. Twenty-nine more days. How would it happen, she wondered? Would she go to stand on some balcony at midnight? Would she put her robe and slippers on and traipse out into the garden again, waiting to be taken up in a light? Or faint? Would she be in the middle of a conversation with William and suddenly fade away?MoreLessRead More Read Less
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