I must put my foot down: the great explorer will enjoy himself." You’ve been in mourning so long you’ve forgotten how to have fun. She chattered on, oblivious to his unease. Nothing’s changed-nothing that matters, that is. Foolish, that enough time had elapsed that everything must have changed. And, to be truthful, he’d dreaded the thought of reentering society. Since then, he’d been burdened with the details of the funeral and the estate he’d inherited. Diana, Lady Cosgrove, was resplendent in peacock-blue shimmering silk.Įvan had returned to England nearly fourteen months ago when his father had passed away. She turned and gave him a quizzical look.ĭon’t look so hunted. His hand tightened deliberately about his cousin’s arm. When last he’d been in polite society, he’d been its most ardent participant. Everything was normal.Įverything, that was, except him. The figures at the foot of the stair coalesced into whirling pairs of dancers, not sharp crags. Still, standing at the top of the stairs he felt a touch of vertigo-as if the wide steps leading down to the dance floor were instead a steep slope, and the swirling pastels of evening gowns the rocks that waited below. This one was just a moderately sized hall on the Arlestons’ country estate-a dance at a house party, not a great London crush. IT HAD BEEN TEN YEARS SINCE EVAN CARLTON, Earl of Westfeld, last entered a ballroom.
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May 2023
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