Dougless took her compact from her purse, opened the mirror, and looked at the brooch. Nicholas was staring at his brother. “This was Lord Nicholas Stafford’s private chamber, and, to put it politely, Lord Nicholas was what is known as a rake. “Come on,” she said good-naturedly.
“I thought I had lost you,” she whispered. She burst into tears again and slumped against the cold stone wall. It says the vines are still healthy. off his horse and walking toward a tall, grubby-looking man on his hands and knees in a bed of petunias.
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