Lord Mirkwood came to see Emily the very next day. And the next one, and the next one, and the one after that. By the fifth day, Emily had grown tired of the man.
“You should keep your hair tied back more often,” he said to her on that fateful day. “It frames your face much better that way.”
They were strolling through the Thornton garden, which ironically didn’t have a single thorn in it. Amidst the roses, the dandelions and the daisies, Emily couldn’t find any beauty in them. Not with the domineering man walking beside her.
He seemed to have this uncanny ability to irritate her with everything he said or did. It was something about the way he carried himself, so arrogantly and with little to no respect for anyone else. Or maybe it was the condescending tone she heard in his voice ev
