Major Wyclyff's Campaign (A Lady's Lessons, book 2)
“She felt warm and comfortable, but a strange ache of emptiness seemed to surround her. She didn't want to examine it, but instinctively curled away from the thought. The feeling. From everything.
"Come along, dear. Wake up." It was Aunt Agatha. Which meant she must be in her own bed. Indeed, when she finally, reluctantly opened her eyes, Sophia saw the familiar pink curtains illuminated by the same afternoon sunshine that filled her bedroom every day in Staffordshire. But somehow, it did not seem like home. Though the featherbed and Aunt Agatha's smiling face seemed familiar, they appeared much too cheery for her mood.
She rolled over and buried her head away from the brightness, away from the forced beauty. Away. She would never come out again.
"You might as well roll over and look at me because I am not leaving until you do." Sophia stiffened at the reproving note in her aunt's voice. "I am not at home, Aunt Agatha. To anyone. Even you." "Too bad," her aunt snapped. "This is my home..., not yours.MoreLess
"Come along, dear. Wake up." It was Aunt Agatha. Which meant she must be in her own bed. Indeed, when she finally, reluctantly opened her eyes, Sophia saw the familiar pink curtains illuminated by the same afternoon sunshine that filled her bedroom every day in Staffordshire. But somehow, it did not seem like home. Though the featherbed and Aunt Agatha's smiling face seemed familiar, they appeared much too cheery for her mood.
She rolled over and buried her head away from the brightness, away from the forced beauty. Away. She would never come out again.
"You might as well roll over and look at me because I am not leaving until you do." Sophia stiffened at the reproving note in her aunt's voice. "I am not at home, Aunt Agatha. To anyone. Even you." "Too bad," her aunt snapped. "This is my home..., not yours.MoreLess
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