Martha Radcliffe - Fiction

The drawing room of the Worthington estate was alight with the gentle hum of conversation, its high, well-decorated walls echoing the sound of a dozen voices as the evening’s guests made themselves comfortable. A few ladies, elegant in their evening gowns, lingered by the fire, sipping tea and exchanging the latest gossip. The men, their manner as reserved as their company, gathered near the windows, their conversation subdued but earnest.