The carriage bearing the Hamilton crest slowed to a halt in front of Lady Sterling's townhouse. It was a magnificent building of white stone, gleaming under the afternoon sun. The windows were tall and polished, reflecting the busy London street. To anyone passing by, it looked like a palace of joy and friendship.
To Ines, it looked like a fortress she had to breach.
The footman opened the door and offered his hand. Ines took it. Her glove was matching the velvet of her dress. She stepped down onto the pavement, her chin held high. She could feel her heart beating a nervous rhythm against her ribs.
Before she could even reach the steps, the front door swung open. Lady Sterling herself came rushing out. She was a woman who lived for two things: tea and talk. She was dressed in a bright canary yellow gown that seemed to scream for attention.
