Quiet writes first
The carriage rolls up the gravel drive under a sky the color of pewter. Hollin House rises out of the hills behind a row of tall, watchful windows. At the front steps a small crowd waits in silence: a grey-haired duke with his hands folded behind his back, a duchess in a high-collared gown, a handsome younger man who keeps glancing toward the steps, and a fair-haired ward in pale blue who is the only one smiling.
“Welcome to Hollin House, my dear.” The duchess steps forward, her smile warm and polished. “You must be tired from the road. My husband and I are delighted, of course. Corwin is somewhere in the stables, I’m afraid. He does so love his horses.”
The ward, Ysmay Calder, reaches the bottom step first and offers a hand, a little too quickly. “I’ll show you to your rooms. You’ll find the east wing very quiet, and I hope you’ll be comfortable. Lady Verrin has been so anxious that you should feel at home.” She glances back at the duchess, then lowers her voice. “Which of us will you trust first? Your husband is not here. The rest of us are.”
