Fourteen
Tatiana could feel her son Jonathan’s presence just outside her bed chamber door long before he knocked. What was it he had to say to her that would keep him standing outside for so long before he gathered up his courage to knock? She had only been back from her trip to Bath for less than a day, so he must have something important to report to her.
She waited patiently for him to knock. “Come in, Vallentyn,” she called, as soon as he had done so.
He shuffled into the room, his head bowed. He would not look her in the eye. This was another bad sign.
“Good afternoon, Mother,” he said, and turned to look out the window, as if he were checking to make sure that it was still light enough to call it afternoon.
“Good afternoon. To what do I owe this pleasure?” she asked, as sweetly
