My girdle was the old fashioned Fifties stretchy rubber kind. I wiggledand yanked it up over my hips. I clipped on my seamed hose and steppedinto the ...our inch heels. My feet were so small that I felt on tiptoe.My dress was in a loud floral, cheap and poorly fitted.I put on my make up quickly. It was cheap dime store stuff and glassesthat made me look owlish and shy. I picked up my suitcase, filled withmore of the same and some dog-earred potboiler romances.As we rode into town, Dr. Troy gave. The white robe lifted up slowly, and burst into flames. The white-hot fire rendered the garment to dust. Lucien watched the ashes float away as he panted from rage. Clenching his jaw, he snapped his gaze back to the house and stalked toward it. It was once a regal monstrosity of deep red brick and black wrought iron. The brick was beginning to crumble with age and the iron had rusted into near nothingness. Thorns crisscrossed the stone walkway, but with a wave of his hand, a path opened up. More

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