*Polly*
Amélie’s horrified cry at discovering the wedding dress serving as a perch for a pair of London sparrows is matched by her despair as I toss dress after dress behind me on the bed.
At the end of it, I have almost nothing to wear, but I have a growing sense of excitement.
When I finally manage to dress in one of the few gowns left to my name, I wander down to breakfast. Fennec has not yet returned from his trip to the wharf, and no one else is at home. “Where is the Alpha prince?” I ask Cramble, allowing a servant to spoon scrambled eggs onto my plate.
“The Alpha prince went to the races in Newmarket and won’t be home until tomorrow.” The butler says.
“And my mother?” I ask.
He makes a small bow-like motion, “Mrs. Svane left early this morning for Scotland; I believe she is pa
