I knew I was in for a severe case of mothering and henning, but I had no idea just how protective Georgina could be. From the moment I was woken by Clara the next day, I was followed by either her or Kate, or even Bernard, kept under careful eye. Even Sassafras seemed to be a part of the conspiracy to protect me from anything remotely resembling harm.
My irritation rose rapidly, from the stodgy breakfast where Georgina alternated between patting my hand and hiccupping her way through a bout of crying, to Kate's hurt and hollow expression indicating I'd damaged her already frail self worth, perhaps irreparably, to the way Hugh watched me from the moment I entered a room until I left it and even feeling him follow me after that.
I was not some fragile china doll to shatter at a mere breeze
