December 12 was the night of the Duchess of Devonshire’s ball. Marcus drank his coffee, wondering how Judith would react if he cried off from the ball. It was the high point of the pre-Christmas festivities, and all fashionable London would be there. Would she feel neglected if she had to go alone? But her friends would be there, and her brother, he reasoned. It wasn’t as if he’d see much of her all evening, even if he did escort her. Besides, Judith was not a woman to demand her husband’s company when he’d received an invitation so vastly more appealing. He didn’t doubt she’d understand the appeal of the invitation from Colonel Morcby. He left the breakfast parlor and went upstairs to his wife’s chamber. The atmosphere in the room was steamy and scented. The fire had been built as high as safety permitted and heat blasted the room, augmenting the steam wreathing from a copper hip bath drawn up before the hearth. Marcus blinked to clear his vision and then smiled. Millie was pouring more water from a copper jug into the tub while Judith stood beside the bath, one toe delicately testing the temperature.
What do You think about Jane Feather - [V Series]?
