I scoff internally at Lord Bromley's promise, although I allow my little eyes to light up and regard him with the same excitement any child looks at candy. If I were truly a little girl, perhaps I would be swept up by his promises, but a well-known saying rings through my head.
There's no free lunch in America.
What does this old man want in return from me for him to fulfill these lofty promises? I paid attention in history classes, bastards were pretty much raised outside of the palace and away from anyone's eyes. Some were relegated to servants within their own homes. So what worth is a bastard daughter who can't even contend for the throne to Lord Bromley?
