Beatrice stood in the visitor's room bearing a disgruntled profile. She looked up the minute she heard a footstep coming down the staircase...
A kitchen servant had come in initially to serve her tea which she had declined shooing off the frightened made who dashed out in the blink of an eye with the tray beating the tea and confectionaries.
Tristan stopped at the foot of the stairs trying to calm his raging hormones as he looked towards the direction the dimmed sitting at the occupant who straightened the moment she saw him fanning herself in her usual faux hyper dignified manner.
He scoffed climbing down as he walked towards her determined to attend to whatever brought her here and returning her since he was on the way to the mansion himself.
“To what do I owe this visitation, Lady
