6
8:10 p.m.
Giulianna crossed the manor to the dining room praying she wouldn’t have to face Richard at dinner.
She had managed to keep herself buried in the kitchen, sending Henriette to do all the outside-kitchen jobs. And somehow, the day had passed without them crossing paths. By tea time, she had almost forgotten about her anxiety.
Now she found herself tied in knots again when she saw Richard standing by the far side of the dining room, looking rugged and very much like the lord of the manor in a dove-gray button-down shirt under a black jacket with a white handkerchief peeking from the upper pocket, and black trousers.
He didn’t need clothes to signify his authority. It was made clear in the way he held himself. In the intensity of his royal-blue eyes; in the obvious strength o
