Sherlock Holmes meets Pride and Prejudice in this bewitching and scintillating romance between an eccentric gypsy detective and a young spinster governess.
Harriet Morgan, a shy, nurturing young woman, watches the finishing school she has seen as he...
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Esma looked for any sign of deception in the palest green eyes she had ever peered into. They were like a silvered grey and lined with white eyelashes, something Esma had never seen before. Nicu had told her the girl was a liar and possibly hiding something.
Harriet Morgan was not lying, Esma could see that, but she was also incredibly guarded. Harriet's body was tense and unforgiving in its weariness, but her face gave away nothing except a calmness. It was odd, one would not think a normal girl would have that after what she went through. She hid her emotions with expert precision, probably by how she was taught in the finishing school and went on to teach. Women in society were trained to hide their emotions, how it was unseeingly. They couldn't even use their hands to express themselves because it was improper.
Esma had never seen someone perfect it so well.
It was most likely the very reason why her brother was suspicious. He didn't like it when people could hide things from him.
"What are you feeling right now?" Esma asked.
Harriet switched her attention to the cast iron tub. "Like my skin is unwanted wallpaper that I need to peel off layer by layer." Her fingers dillydallied along the water as if they were dancing the waltz. "I feel myself changing after everything, but I don't know if I'll like what's beneath the layers. My home has been destroyed and I'm slowly being exposed. As I sit here in this tub... it's as if...." She licked her lips, eyes zoned in on the ripples of the water that reflected nothing but emptiness. "As if pieces of me are wilting and shrinking up from the heat of the fire. I worry that once I am stripped... I'll be nothing but a shadow of who I used to be." Harriet sighed and pushed back some of her wet hair. "I'm lost with no home and wonder if I will ever find a place for myself again."
Grabbing a towel, Esma helped Harriet out, pondering the young woman's interesting description. "We are all wonderers on this earth. Our hearts are full of wonder, and our souls are deep with dreams."
Harriet stiffened. "Right now, my heart isn't full at all, very much the opposite, and my soul hasn't dreamed for a long time."
Carefully, Esma helped the sore and frail woman into a new chemise and some drawers. "I know what it's like to wander and feel lost. Like you don't belong."
"That's rare from someone of your culture, isn't it?" Harriet questioned shyly.
"The Rom are known for being nomads and it's in my blood." Esma broke off, not knowing if Nicu would be happy with this woman learning of their past. "All I can say is that I am more than a Rom, as is my brother."
No other questions came from Harriet's mouth, but instead an apology, "I'm sorry for prying my lady."
Esma shook her head, her chimes softly echoing in the room. "Don' be."
She left Harriet's side and gathered the garments she was lending to Harriet in her arms. "I apologize for the wardrobe. This is the most conservative attire I own. I'm afraid I only dress accordingly to society when my husband forces me to attend balls and soirees."
