A Stroll on the Terrace with Lord Windham

“That sounds like a capital idea, Lord Windham. Don’t overexert yourself, my dear, remember you were ill.” And with a last stern look at Lord Windham, Lady Huxtable left to go join the row of matrons seated against the wall.

“The Dragon is in fine form tonight,” Lord Windham said sotto voce as he escorted me onto the terrace. He firmly but gently took my hand and tucked it under his arm.

“Yes, I’m surprised she let me come out here with you at all, given the circumstances under which we last met.”

I was referring to Lord Windham’s surprising (and extremely mortifying, at least to me) visit earlier that week. I still couldn’t believe he had been in my bedchamber.

Lord Windham regarded me beneath those strange hooded eyes of his, so like the sphinx he was.

“And have you had other visitors, Miss Delacourt? Such as our friend Viscount Dubois?”

I smiled despite myself. “No, though he did send the most charming card.”

I noticed through lowered lashes that his jaw had tensed ever so slightly at this.

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