She shattered the edifice he was building up of himself as a devoted lover, waiting only his chance to win her from a hopeless and consuming passion. A smile trembled at the corners of her mouth as she recalled Gerald’s ridiculous upbraiding of his own reflection in the mirror. Men in this part of the world drink to forget the things they have lost. You are captain of your soul; don't forget your Henley. Her amusement fled and she stared at him, as a slow thump began beating at her breast. ‘How do you do, my lord? I am Lucilla Froxfield. We've got to get him to care.
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