Chapter Twelve.
Eliza looked around the guest room on the second floor. For a house prison, it was luxury personified. There was a huge four-poster bed in the centre of the room, covered in thick blankets and furs. Large green thick curtains hung from the canopy. Matching drapes covered the double window. A fire slowly burned inside the huge stone fireplace. Freshly chopped wood, placed in baskets on either side. The cream, coloured walls had exposed stones in places, which, rather than looking run down, appeared stylish. A single wooden door sat at one side of the room, leading to the bathroom, which had a flushing toilet, rather than the usual pale of snow waiting to defrost so that the user could flush their waste away. Again, this was a luxury, as usually a pack home would be concer
