… eight maids a milking
…
Chapter
Eight
Maxine
Douglas
Pemberton Hall
Christmas Day, 1814
Eleanor Swann, one of seven daughters
born to Lord and Lady Cockswood stood amongst the pillars wrapped gaily with
evergreen boughs, wondering why she had to attend yet another ball. Unlike her
best friend, Lady Liza Seymour whose dance card was nearly full, Nora was single
with no beau, nor dance partner in sight. Like Liza, Nora detested being herded
around like a prized mare. But what was a girl to do? Especially one of three
and twenty with no intentions of subjecting herself to an arranged match, thus
never marrying.
“I don’t know why Father keeps
insisting on presenting me at these parties, Nora,” Liza barely whispered above
the music filling the ballroom of Pemberton Hall. “I’ve already attended many
seasons so why he persists on me attending every ball within distance escapes
me.”
Nora sighed deeply, wanting badly to
escape the merriment and sneak down to the stables for a night ride. She knew
people thought her to be prim and proper, but she’d seen a lovely sorrel gelding
just waiting for someone to take him out on a run. She’d love nothing more than
to ride astride the big mount and feel the rhythm of his gait beneath her. She
sighed inwardly and returned her attention to her friend, and confidant. Liza
was the only person she trusted with her true feelings.
“You know exactly why we’re both
here. Your father has aspirations of selling ... Read More ...
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