Soon, Lady Marguerite bid us a good meal and left to speak with the guests at another table, but not without casting a dark look at de Grave. I noticed that though de Grave would not meet Lady Marguerite’s eyes, Lord Windham did, and he gave her a very haughty stare.

“I wonder what that was all about,” I thought to myself, biting my lower lip as I often did whenever I was pensive. “Who could that mysterious ‘her’ be? And why was Lady Marguerite staring at de Grave in that way…?”

“Well, you look the very figure of contemplation! In fact, if I were a skilled artist, I should wish to draw you in such a pose and I daresay I would title it, ‘Contemplation.’”

I came out of my reverie with a start, finding Lord Windham gazing at me with a twinkle lighting up his dark eyes.

“Oh, I’m just tired. We were at another ball last night, the Joffreys’, and I’m afraid I haven’t gotten much sleep.” I feigned what I hoped was a very realistic yawn. Lord Windham, however, didn’t seem very convinced.