she asked when they were in the carriage. “And why so early?” “To a woman I know. The time is early for us, but late for her. She normally goes to bed around nine.” “Who is she? Another member of the demimonde?” “I would hesitate to call Lucille Grampton any name at all. She defies explanation and description.” His smile effectively stole her words. She stared at him, wishing her experience of his world was greater. “You think she might know Neville.” “Yes.” “Why?” “Because young men gravitate to Lucille like a child to candy. Neville wasn’t an exception.” She hadn’t eaten anything for breakfast, which she told herself was why her stomach clenched. She was most definitely not affected by his words or the hint of admiration in his voice. Of course the Rake of London would admire a woman of ill repute.
What do You think about Scotsman Of My Dreams (2015)?
