Tender the Storm

Quick, Germaine! Fetch a glass of wine.”
A strong arm supported Zoë. She lifted her lashes

sunshine. It had been done over in her mother’s favorite color, from pale primrose yellow

And the pity of it was that, had she done so, her anxieties these many weeks past would have been easier to bear.

How different, how generous did his actions with respect to herself now appear.

A man of honor was expected to marry the lady whose virtue he had compromised, or face social ostracism.