CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Mary had spent the first hours of the morning in her suite, bathing in the tub of steaming water brought up from the kitchen, selecting her several garments for the day’s activities, sewing an errant trimming of lace that refused to stay attached, and casting her eye across the words in her notebook and the last few entries of her diary. The servant who had helped her dress was preparing to leave when Mary saw her stoop at the suite’s entrance and pick up an unnoticed envelope.
“Madame?”
“Merci, Bridgette.” Mary accepted the letter and waited for the girl to close the door behind her before she turned the envelope over and broke the seal.
Dear Mrs. Shelley,
Firstly, allow me to apologize profusely for my neglect of your society over the two days just passed. Withou
