Chapter Twenty-OneLunch proved to be a tight-lipped affair.
All the Stamford women were wearing white garments, and as women’s fashion is not an expertise I claim to possess I had no idea who had crept out of the greenhouse when I arrived to talk to the general. This time Vulk joined us at the table, his status having clearly risen from gardener to houseguest.
We sat by ourselves at the far end of the enormous table and quietly laid out our plans for the coming night. Though still treating us cordially, the family was looking determined to limit its contact with us. After the meal I headed to my room, drew the curtains, and threw myself into bed.
The ache in my head had lessened, but I was feeling drained by the excitement of the last few days. The night was promising to be a long one,
