Seventeen
Kat didn’t even raise her eyes as she entered the sitting room.
“You called for me, Aunt Vallentyn?” the girl asked, her eyes staying annoyingly, discreetly lowered.
“Yes, my dear. Do come and sit here on the sofa, next to me,” Tatiana said in her sweetest voice. Could the girl know why she had been called? But how could she?
Tatiana patted the white brocade sofa next to where she sat, and tried her hardest to contain the growing annoyance within her. Not only did Kat’s reticence indicate that Tatiana’s fears might be very well founded, but it also negated all that she had ever taught that girl.
After Kat had sat down at the far end of the sofa, Tatiana reached over and lifted the girl’s chin with the tip of her finger. “I thought I had taught you better than that, Katrina.
