Isabel Ryde walked quickly down the long corridor on the second floor of the Ryde's House. She was wearing a beautiful, light pink silk dress, but her face did not look beautiful at all. Her features were twisted into an ugly scowl of frustration. Her hands were curled into tight fists at her sides.
She reached the end of the hallway. She stood in front of the double door. This was her father's private study.
She did not wait for a servant to announce her. She raised her hand and knocked three times, very loudly and impatiently, on the thick wood.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Inside the study, a deep, slightly annoyed voice answered immediately.
"Enter," Lord Ryde said.
Isabel turned the brass handle and pushed the doors open.
