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He slowly approached the bed, all at once seeming far taller and broader in his casual attire.
His face seemed different too—younger somehow, with several locks of waving brown hair tumbling over his forehead, and there was a definite intense, almost hungry look in those grey eyes that never for a second wavered from her direction.
.....
Not many weeks had passed before Lady Ashworth had first begun to appreciate Mary’s innate skill with a needle. She had then nurtured the gift, even going so far as to allow her protégée, young though she had been at the time, to make day dresses for her mistress to wear. When Briony had become a member of the household, and a governess had been engaged, Lady Ashworth had been generous enough to allow Mary to attend certain lessons. Consequently, not only had Mary acquired a well-rounded education, she had had the great good fortune, on attaining her majority, of being set up in business by her generous employer. Furthermore, she and Briony had been close friends for years, close enough for Briony to realise at once that all was not well with her childhood companion. Sensing that more than just the death of her beloved Lady Ashworth lay behind the sombre look, she asked outright what was wrong.
‘Why, nothing!’ The denial was not at all convincing, as Briony’s sceptical expression betrayed, and Mary released her breath in a sigh of resignation. ‘Well, it’s that material, you see. I had every intention of returning it. I don’t think it will sell very well.’
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