He swung a leg over the windowsill and paused, raising an eyebrow.“After the day I’ve had, I have no desire to get the beating I deserve tonight if I walk out that door.I will wait until tomorrow when I’m well rested.”
“Harry...”
“Good night, my darling, and please tell your brothers what happened.They have the right to know.”
With that, he dropped out of sight.Dragging the sheet around her, she dashed to the window, watching Harry work his way down the wrought-iron fretwork that decorated the railings of the small Juliet balconies that fronted the windows on this floor, down to the larger balcony on the second and then dropping onto the hedges that lined the walk.
Once he reached the ground safely, he looked up with a silent salute as if he had known she would be watching before strolling away.
Fiona watched him go, confusion warring with yearning before she turned away, replaying his words—much as he predicted—over in her mind.
Never noticing the eyes that watched them both.
Chapter 33
Sweet Piper, where are you?You haven’t answered my letters in weeks!I shall be coming home after the Haddington ball.I promise this time.
Have you ever wondered, dearest sister, how one could possibly be so dreadfully content in torturing oneself?
~From the correspondence of the Marquis of Aylesbury—Apr 1893
––––––––
The Glenrothes Townhouse
117 Eaton Square
Belgravia, London, England
The next morning
––––––––
“She’s notat home?”Aylesbury asked.“Please tell me that is nothing more than the standard society euphemism, and she really is here.”
“I’m sure I couldn’t say, my lord,” Hobbes said unflappably.
