The heavy oak doors clicked shut, sealing out the noise of the hallway, the bustling servants, and the energetic Aunt Rowena. The silence in the Duke's private chamber was instant and blissful.
Ines let out a long, shuddering breath. Her shoulders, which had been held high with ducal dignity since they arrived, finally slumped.
She walked to the dressing table. It was a beautiful piece of furniture, inlaid with rosewood, sitting before a mirror that reflected the afternoon sun. She untied the ribbons of her bonnet. Her fingers were a little clumsy from fatigue, but she managed to pull the hat free.
She dropped her bonnet on the dressing table. It landed with a soft plop next to her silver hairbrush.
She began to peel off her gloves. One finger at a time, she pulled the fabric loose. She tossed them aside, not caring where they landed.
"I feel as though I am wearing half the weight of London," she murmured, reaching for the back of her neck.
