"Enough. I have this under control."
Aiden Sinclair hung up the phone.
Mrs. Lane brought the mushroom soup to the table. "Sir, the food is getting cold. Should I have someone go upstairs and ask Miss Walsh to come down?"
Aiden Sinclair glanced at his watch. There was still one minute left of the ten.
"We'll wait a little longer."
Aiden Sinclair stared at the hands of his watch as the seconds ticked by.
"Miss Walsh, you look so beautiful in that dress. Sir picked out all the clothes in the wardrobe for you himself." Mrs. Lane's voice, full of praise, drifted down.
Aiden Sinclair looked up. Nina Walsh was walking slowly down the stairs in a loose, black dress.
Her already sickly face looked even paler against the black dress. As she moved, her sleeves and skirt swished around her, her waist so thin it looked like it would snap with a single touch.
'She's too thin. When did she get this thin?'
