CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY TWO – BITTER FEELINGS

The next few days were a tightrope walk of stolen glances and carefully veiled touches. Richard, ever the strategist, devised a new rendezvous point – an abandoned greenhouse nestled in the far corner of the estate, its glass panes shimmering with a forgotten beauty. As Charlotte entered the greenhouse, sunlight streamed through the dusty panes, bathing the decaying flowers in an ethereal glow. Richard stood amidst the wilting blooms, a hesitant smile playing on his lips. "Charlotte," he breathed, his voice echoing softly in the stillness. They fell into each other's arms, the scent of damp earth and forgotten blooms mingling with their desperation. "I can't stay away," Richard murmured, his lips brushing against hers. "Neither can I," Charlotte confessed, the weight of their forbidden love pressing down on her. As their lips met, a sense of reckless abandon washed over them. They were two souls entangled in a dance forbidden by their stations, a tango fuelled by stolen moments a