It was dark outside when she was roused by wind-lashed branches scraping along the roof tiles. The soft pfft, pfft against the window meant the rain that had been threatening all day had started at last.
Floors were not meant to be slept on, Concordia thought, wincing at the stiffness in her back. She blew her nose noisily in her handkerchief. Feeling better now, she resolved to at least start sorting through Mary’s belongings, late though it was.
She opened the armoire, admiring the array of silk wrappers, soft wool skirts, shirt-waists sporting the popular leg-of-mutton sleeves, and traveling suits, some tailored in the latest fashion of masculine shoulders and military-like braid. There were also tea gowns and ball gowns in shimmering colors of aquamarine, cerise, silver, and rose
