Perfidious Brambles

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In the day’s dying light, Lady Timandra Lotterby peered out the coach window at the

dark and shuttered house and wished she had never offered to accompany her friend, Eliza

Tilbury, to Perfidious Brambles. A cold shiver crept up her spine, and she squiggled

uncomfortably on the padded seat cushion. Eliza’s trembling hand slid over hers, and Timandra

felt instant shame. She was here to support her friend, not give way to silly, baseless fears. Yes,

the estate grounds appeared unkempt, and the house foreboding, but an old man living on his

own might find little need to keep up appearances.