![]() ![]() From her earliest years she'd been aware of them as "other," and years of observation had left her with a sound understanding of their features and foibles. She considered herself an expert in the art of assessing gentlemen. Angelica shook her head, and someone in the group to the side of which she stood reclaimed Henrietta's attention, leaving Angelica with her gaze locked on the most riveting man she'd ever beheld. Her ill-suppressed excitement drew a glance from her cousin, Henrietta, presently standing beside her. Irritated, with the musicians resting she'd worked her way around the room, moving from group to group, exchanging greetings and comments, smoothly shifting until she had him in her sights.Įyes wide, barely daring to believe, she whispered, "It's him!" ![]() She'd first felt his disconcerting gaze some thirty minutes before he'd watched her waltz, watched her laugh and chat with others, but no matter how discreetly she'd looked for him, he'd refused to show himself. God." Angelica Rosalind Cynster, standing to one side of Lady Cavendish's salon with the bulk of her ladyship's chattering guests at her back, stared at the long windows giving onto the unlit terrace and the dark gardens beyond, at the reflection of the gentleman who was staring at her from the opposite side of the room. ![]()
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