A Duchess By Midnight
“Clara returned to the house on wooden legs where Lady Irene greeted her at the door. One glance at Clara’s white face and vacant expression and she sent her immediately upstairs before she could ‘upset her sisters’.
Wanting to mourn her beloved father in private, Clara went willingly to her bedroom and spent the next two days alternating between fits of hysteria that left her weak and breathless and moments of pain so vivid she felt as though her heart had been ripped right out of her chest....
Her father… dead. It was almost too much for her young, vulnerable mind to process. He had been taken from her as her mother had been, leaving her all alone in a world that suddenly seemed bleak and cold and devoid of all hope.
To never again hear his voice or feel his hand upon her shoulder or watch his carriage as it came up the drive… To never ride beside him on Buttercup or listen to him read about great faraway lands or tip-toe into his room in the middle of the night when lightening flashed and thunder shook the sky.MoreLess
Wanting to mourn her beloved father in private, Clara went willingly to her bedroom and spent the next two days alternating between fits of hysteria that left her weak and breathless and moments of pain so vivid she felt as though her heart had been ripped right out of her chest....
Her father… dead. It was almost too much for her young, vulnerable mind to process. He had been taken from her as her mother had been, leaving her all alone in a world that suddenly seemed bleak and cold and devoid of all hope.
To never again hear his voice or feel his hand upon her shoulder or watch his carriage as it came up the drive… To never ride beside him on Buttercup or listen to him read about great faraway lands or tip-toe into his room in the middle of the night when lightening flashed and thunder shook the sky.MoreLess
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