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1024e05
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The imposter's long, sturdy traveling cloak covered plain, dark, modest traveling clothes. Like the duchess, she was tall and well-rounded, and she spoke with the duchess's aristocratic accent. Also like the duchess, she wore her black hair smoothed back from her face. Yet for the discerning eye, the differences were obvious. The imposter had a sweeter, rounder face, dominated by large blue eyes striking in their serenity. Her voice was husky, warm, rich. Her hands rested calmly at her waist, and she moved with serene grace, not at all with the brisk certainty of the duchess. She was slow to smile, slow to frown, and never laughed with glorious freedom. Indeed, she seemed to weigh each emotion before allowing it egress, as if sometime in the past every drop of impulsiveness had been choked from her. It wasn't that she was morose, but she was observant, composed, and far too quiet.
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duchess
serene
eleanor-de-lacy
sweet
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Christina Dodd |
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31ad2e8
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After all, what was the point of showing trepidation? It would merely be another proof that, although Eleanor had traveled across war-torn Europe as the duchess's companion, she hadn't acquired the verve and confidence that characterized Madeline's every move. This wasn't from lack of trials; the two women had faced trials aplenty. It was because- Eleanor sighed as she allowed the butler to take her cloak- Eleanor was born timid. She never remembered a time when her father's shouting hadn't paralyzed her with fright, or when her stepmother's narrow-eyed glare hadn't had the power to turn her into a bowl of quivering blancmange. Which is why Eleanor cultivated a serene facade- she might be a coward, but she saw no reason to announce the fact.
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serene
timid
eleanor-de-lacy
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Christina Dodd |