*Anna*

“I’m sorry, miss Anna, but he is not at home”. The man says.

I give Kyle’s butler a stern look. “Literally not at home ?”

“Literally, miss Anna. He has yet to return from last night’s …”. He clears his throat. “ … adventures”.

Gambling and drinking and God knows what else he is up to, what other indulgences might be occupying his time. Blast it all! I spin on my heel and stride out of the town house, my entourage of servants in my wake. We need to talk, to reach an understanding regarding our betrothal: it is over. I cannot, will not, marry him when I harbor...