Just as the sun was setting, casting a certain glow about the dining hall, the two women strode gracefully into the room.  As for look-alikes, the two could pass for twins but for their hair.  Elizabeth wore a pale blue gown, accented with diamond jewelry from her armoire.  Samantha, looking quite comfortable in her attire, sported a cream-colored gown similar to the one worn by her hostess, and she also wore a gemstone necklace Elizabeth had insisted she wear.  “It brings out your eyes,” she’d said.
    Fergusson stood from his seat at the head of the table and made a slight bow in their direction.  “Sister, dear, you are looking quite lovely this evening.”  He then turned his eyes to Samantha, who lowered her lashes bashfully.  “As is our guest, and humble about it, too,” he complimented.  He walked around behind them to push in their chairs once they were seated, then returned to his own seat.
    Dinner conversation bounced from topic to topic, never staying on one for very long at a time, and for once, Samantha felt like she could relax.  They spoke about politics, the flowers in the garden outside, and the new foal in the stables.  When Fergusson directed the conversation toward Samantha’s family and background, Elizabeth helped her turn his thoughts in a different direction, and but for that, she finally started to feel like she was fitting in, as though she belonged.  Sadly, she knew that could never be, for what man could accept who she was and what she did for a living?  This evening, however, she pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind and reveled in the familial atmosphere.
    When dinner was finished, Fergusson went to his study, while his sister drew Samantha into the sitting room, where they talked of gossip and nonsense.  The young blonde helped her find a book to read about a dashing prince who saved a damsel in distress from a ferocious dragon who kept her locked in a tower high above the treetops.  Samantha found the plot predictable yet entertaining, and when she pictured the prince, she saw none other than the ice-blue eyes of Lord Nicholas Fergusson.  She imagined herself the beautiful damsel he had gone to rescue, and stopped reading, caught in her daydream.