For what seemed like the hundredth time in less than ten minutes, I fumed at Lord Windham, feeling my normally composed temper begin to rage. Then I heard the most awful sound in the world: the front door opening followed by the clattering step of my cousin on the stair. Lady Huxtable’s more decorous step was heard soon after.

“What are you doing? Get up from there! You must leave. Lady Huxtable has come home and she is going to murder you when she finds you in my chamber!” I pushed back the covers, forgetting all sense of propriety in my haste, and attempted to propel him out of the room.

But Lord Windham wouldn’t budge. He seemed suddenly made of granite. “I’m not afraid of a dragon, Miss Delacourt. It’s going to take a lot more than that to shake me, I’m afraid.” His eyes were doing strange things to my stomach.

I threw up my hands. “Oh, suit yourself! But I won’t cry at your funeral after Lady Huxtable -“

“Did somebody say my name?”

An icy trickle rushed down my spine. I slowly turned around.