“Again, she was struck by the fact that her guest had not been wandering about aimlessly as she had suspected, but had done his research. The thought made something quiver within her breast, and Abigail hoped, quite fervently, that it was not her heart.She stood by, trying not to gaze too adoringly at his person while Lord Moreland studied the stair carefully, making rudimentary measurements with his long strides. And yet she found it impossible to ignore the way his blond hair glinted in a patc...h of sunlight, the way his lashes fell against his cheek, and even the way his breeches fit his rather muscular legs.To Abigail’s chagrin, everything about the man seemed twice as bright, twice as handsome, and twice as compelling as before. Her own good sense told her that was quite impossible. The man had not transformed himself; it was only her perception of him that had changed. It had all started with those dratted spectacles, she thought, wishing that she had never seen them.Abigail had no idea how long she stood there watching Lord Moreland tap on the walls around the steps, but it was surely the most time she had ever wasted.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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