Rosamund
Today is the day we travel to the palace.
I came downstairs at noon with my stomach I knots and my hands damp inside my gloves.
Mrs Harlow had dressed me in a travelling gown of deep burgundy with a fitted bodice and a high collar that felt like it was slowly strangling me. My hair was pinned beneath a modest hat, and my shoes were new and stiff and already biting into my heels. I looked, according to Fanny's enthusiastic assessment, like a proper Duchess.
I felt like a woman walking to her own sentencing.
The entrance hall was busy with servants carrying trunks and loading the carriage outside. I could hear Clyde's voice beyond the open doors, giving instructions. I adjusted my gloves for the third time, smoothed my skirts for the fourth, and stepped outside into the midday sun.
Nevan was standing by the carriage.
