*Isla*
I received a note from Maddox, written by his own hand, that he’d be by to get me for dinner at 7:00.
Now, it’s 6:55, and I am watching the clock, wondering if it’s possible for the hands to actually move backward.
It seems to be taking forever for him to arrive!
I am pacing back and forth at the end of my bed, the long red dress I am wearing swishing back and forth. It’s not exactly a gown, but it’s fancier than most of the dresses I have in my wardrobe.
I want to look nice for him, especially tonight.
Is there a chance this will be the night he will claim me?
My heart races as I think about it. I sure hope so.
“You’re going to wear the carpet out,” Poppy says, her nose in a book. She’s hardly spoken to me today, and she hasn’t done a lick of work either. She’s upset that I
