Against all her desires, her mind strayed from the romantic hero to Lord Stanstead. If only romances came true. Laying the book aside, she glanced down at her cat. “Surely someone must be up by now.” Gisila slowly blinked her eyes once. “I do wish you were a bit more communicative.” That is what she got for having a silent cat. Bending down, Vivian stroked the soft, gray feline. “If nothing else, I’ll enjoy the change of scenery.” She stuck her feet into her slippers, left her chambers, and headed for the morning room. Maybe it was the lack of industry that had her feeling blue deviled. By this time of day, she would normally have completed a full schedule of meetings, and who knew what else. Being in the dower house had given her back the sense of competence she had lost while married to Edgar. She gave herself a little shake. That must be it, and when she had her own estate, she would be back to her usual good spirits. Voices and laughter drifted down the corridor from the back of the house.
