Anne’s maid finished fastening her gold-colored day gown and threaded a few more pins into the tumble of curls atop her head.
“There you are, milady. It looks lovely.”
“Thank you, Becca.”
“Will you be needing anything else?” the woman asked, her cap-covered head bowed respectfully.
“Actually, I was wondering if I might be shown to the library. I shall wait there until dinner.”
Becca bobbed a curtsy and led Anne down the stairs and to the library.
The room was beautiful. Gilded chairs and tables were littered with books, but the books, she noted, were layered with dust. There was a distinct impression of someone having been here once, a long time ago. Someone who loved to read. Anne caught the cover of the nearest heavy tome and turned it over. The gilt lettering read A History of the
