*Everly*
The following morning I enjoyed a solitary breakfast. It seemed that Tristan had left early for his club. He doesn’t return that evening or the next. Or the one that follows. No word from him. Is this the uncertainty that will be my life?
Curiosity had gotten the better of me one night and I attempted to open the door to his bedchamber, only to find it locked. I had tried both doors, the one that leads into my room and the one in the hallway. I wonder what secrets he harbors in there, what I might learn about him. He is so mysterious, and if he isn’t returning to the residence, how am I to come to know him better?
I know all he desires is the bedding. Unfortunately I dream of more.
On the fourth afternoon, following a midday meal, I sit in a chair beneath the shade of a toweri
