CHAPTER FOUR“I knew no good would come of the ball,” muttered Great-Aunt Cloris.
Eugenia shuddered. Her eye strayed to the lamp on the table behind Great-Aunt Cloris. The wick was low, the flame flickering.
Flickering. Fluttering. Like the gas jets of the street lamps when her mother lay injured on the cobbles below.
Eugenia covered her face with her hands.
It was all her fault!
If she had not wanted to dance with Gregor – if she had remained true to her original resolution not to attend the ball – she and her mother would never have been riding in that carriage. Her mother would be safe and sound, instead of lying unconscious in her bed upstairs.
People had flocked to help after the accident. The footman, the coachman and another gentleman had carried Mrs. Dovedale back into the car
