She slowly walked over to stand beside Windsor. Elizabeth, who had taken a glass of champagne from a passing servant, added casually,
“I’ve known Jacqueline for quite a long time. We even attended the same boarding school.”
Windsor, who had been idly watching the dancers, turned his gaze back to her. Only after taking a sip of champagne did Elizabeth meet his eyes.
“!”
For a moment, she felt dizzy. She couldn’t tell whether it was from the champagne—or the man standing before her.
One thing, however, was certain: beneath the brilliant chandelier lights, the man standing there with an expressionless face looked strikingly restrained, almost ascetic.
Trying not to reveal her agitation, Elizabeth lowered her eyes with a composed expression.
“You were Miss Somerset’s friend?”
“Yes, well…”
Elizabeth trailed off vaguely.
It was closer to a bad connection than a friendship, but there was no need to say that.…
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Emilybronte
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