*Constance*

I wasn’t certain if it was the bird song or the smell of sweet honey that woke me up the next morning, but it felt as if waking from an intense dream. My brain was foggy, not too eager to leave the dream in which it had been.

I rolled over in the bed and yawned, stretching my body out in the warm covers and relishing the pleasant smell wafting in from the next room. I heard the sound of plates clattering against a table and wondered if Harriet had come ...