Had she expected to wed Valade herself? Had the fellow broken a vow of betrothal, or abandoned her? He must find out more. She slid her cheek down the tweed sleeve of his coat. “Lady Ferringhall, sir. All men are bloody fucking hypocrites. Surely his calculated desire to sit near her meant that his attention had surely been brought from its normal diversions into her realm. ’ The lady’s gaze dwelled thoughtfully on the half-drawn sword and then came up to meet his, an odd look in her eyes. A granddaughter of mine!’ The idiocy of this notion stuck in his craw and he could think of nothing else for a moment.
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