CHAPTER TWODorianna’s Mama was already in the dining room, sitting alone at one end of the long polished dining table.
Her pretty grey hair was arranged in soft curls over her forehead and she wore an elegant lavender gown.
“Is that you, Neville?” she called loudly, her voice sounding nervous, as she raised her pince-nez to her face.
“No, Mama, it’s me,” responded Dorianna, patting the two King Charles spaniels, who rushed over to greet her, their tails wagging.
Her Step-papa, Neville Shawcroft, was nowhere to be seen.
“Oh, dear,” Mama sighed, lowering the pince-nez. “I have had such a difficult day. There has been another incident in the kitchen.”
“What happened?” asked Dorianna, sitting next to her mother and squeezing her hand reassuringly. “Is it cook again?”
Mrs. Bertram, the
