Her Honour for an Heir
trying to admire some poorly painted seascapes.
“Stern, but very handsome, is he not? Lord, I don’t think Mother would allow him to be employed at home,” and she giggled into her gloved hand. I felt my face colour, “he is staff Kitty, he is not a consideration of mine.”
As we continued to walk through the huge gallery, illuminated by a glass atrium above, the art became harder to focus upon. All Kitty talked of was dancing, gossip and men. “And did you see Lady Cawley!”
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