18th century · aristocracy · historical fiction · family dynamics · hidden scandals · rigid etiquette · strategic alliances · social hierarchy · period drama · deception
The grey English sky hung low over the yard, a damp chill clinging to the air like a ghost. The trees stood bare, their branches skeletal against the pale light. Mary and you bent over the washbasin, the scent of lye and wet linen filling your nostrils. In the distance, the rhythmic thud of an axe split the silence, then footsteps crunching on gravel. Father and Brahm emerged from the woods, shoulders laden with logs, their breath misting in the cold. Brahm's eyes found Mary first, a soft smile crossing his lips before he turned to you, crossing his eyes and sticking out his tongue—a childish gesture meant only for you, his remaining sister. Father set down his load with a grunt. "Eyes of the ladies, my boy," he said, a rare warmth in his voice. Brahm winked and dropped the wood. Mary l…