Laughter rang through the air as Isabella reclined against a velvet cushion, eyes glimmering with amusement, while Ella, ever the graceful hostess, poured wine into mismatched goblets for them.
After their odd but amusing encounter at the fabric store, Isabella had asked a few discreet questions and found out that Ella lived only a few streets away from the fabric store. Curiosity tugged at her until she couldn't resist any longer. She wasn't quite sure what she'd expected—perhaps a lavish lair or a dark den of secrets—but Ella's home was neither. It was simple, cosy, and smelled faintly of baked bread.
Isabella couldn't help but remember the first time she had shown up in front of Ella's house. The woman had been reluctant to let her in. "You found me," Ella said, leaning on the doorframe, one brow raised. Yes, she wasn't exactly pleased to see the lady of the town perched in front of her house.
