Monday: There was too much spite in Serafino’s face to hope he might be driven from Vere Castle without exposing her.
Tuesday: “But my hopes are dashed and once and for all, I wash my hands of you.” Serafino struck his palms together twice in Lucianna’s direction, as though literally divesting them of something unclean.
Wednesday: “But you did not marry Vincenzo,” Siri said as Lucianna allowed herself to slip into the increasingly soothing rhythm of gathering and folding Sir Balduin’s scattered clothes. Siri gave a tiny gasp. “Or did you?”
Thursday: Lucianna gave a sharp shake of her head, but her stomach continued to feel like heaving, molten lead.
Friday: No, she could not live like this, grieving for a man she loved, knowing him still so near, feeling his revulsion for her stretching between their castles.