Gillian's first view of Lady Allardyce's ballroom was enough to make her lose the last of her courage. Stunning did not begin to describe the dazzling array of the fashionable haut ton arrayed about the room. From diamonds to dandies, they were all there. And she felt as if everyone had turned ...
She felt warm and comfortable, but a strange ache of emptiness seemed to surround her. She didn't want to examine it, but instinctively curled away from the thought. The feeling. From everything. "Come along, dear. Wake up." It was Aunt Agatha. Which meant she must be in her own bed. Indeed, when...
She frowned at him, trying to orient herself, wondering why her fingers felt numb. Then she remembered a long night of holding Dag Racho while trying to sort through fragments of his memories. He still lay curled on her shoulder, his strange perfume clouding the air. Kiril's scent had been clean ...
Anthony fidgeted with his best cravat, knowing even his best was far below what anyone else at the ball would be wearing. But he had promised, so here he was, standing outside Lord and Lady Illston's home trying to appear completely casual as he waited for Francine's coach to appear. It was a lie...