Margery stood at the top of the stairs, still reeling from Antonia’s visit. She shuddered as she remembered her adopted niece’s eyes as she cried, “You’re ruining my chances with Laird.”
“Laird’s your brother—“
“He doesn’t love you, Antonia—“
“Because you’ve been telling him horrible things about me.”
“You’ll be sorry.”
Margery’s hand trembled now as she reached out to grab the handrail. Then, she froze, thinking she heard a sound behind her, but before she could turn around, she was tumbling down the steps, landing at the bottom. A figure stood over her.