“EVANS AT HOME?” BANALLT ASKED THE BUTLER who answered the door at Henrietta Street. Ah yes, the redoubtable Charles, with his luxurious head of white hair. Down from Havenwood with his employers. “Who, may I ask, is calling?” From the man’s expression he knew too well who Banallt was. He suspected as well that Sophie was home. Whether she would see him was another matter. He handed the butler a card. “Gwilym, Earl of Banallt.” The butler opened the door. “Will you wait while I see if she’s in?”... “Yes, thank you.” He walked in. Truth to tell, he was anxious. His feelings for Sophie were utterly and incomprehensibly unchanged. From the moment he’d heard she and her brother were in London, he had been unable to think of anything but her. Her dismissal of him at Havenwood had failed to cure his affliction. He followed the butler to the front parlor, a dreary room of faded blue and yellow. The only spot of color in the room came from an extravagant bouquet of white roses in a red vase.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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