Duet for Three Hands
“Nathaniel Fye had come into her life, and nothing was the same and, she suspected, never would be. It was the hottest part of the day, and she was limp and overheated by the time she reached the shade of his front porch. Taking a deep breath, she tapped twice with the metal knocker on the front door. A black maid answered.
“Good afternoon, I’m Mrs. Tyler.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Tyler, but the professor isn’t home as of yet.” The girl had a refined quality to her speech and a proud carriage. ...“But Mrs. Fye is waiting for you in the sitting room.” She escorted Lydia into a spacious room decorated in shades of burgundy and green fabrics, plump cushions, and dark walls that made Lydia think of a coffin. The baby grand took up a large corner of the room, next to shelving filled with books.
Frances Fye was beautiful. She wore a white silk dress with a light pink sash tied in a perky bow at her waist. The skirt of her dress fell gracefully below the knees, displaying slender ankles.MoreLess
“Good afternoon, I’m Mrs. Tyler.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Tyler, but the professor isn’t home as of yet.” The girl had a refined quality to her speech and a proud carriage. ...“But Mrs. Fye is waiting for you in the sitting room.” She escorted Lydia into a spacious room decorated in shades of burgundy and green fabrics, plump cushions, and dark walls that made Lydia think of a coffin. The baby grand took up a large corner of the room, next to shelving filled with books.
Frances Fye was beautiful. She wore a white silk dress with a light pink sash tied in a perky bow at her waist. The skirt of her dress fell gracefully below the knees, displaying slender ankles.MoreLess
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