13“The whole place shall be arranged exactly as you wish, my sweet,” Lord Niall replied, and he raised Lady Wrexham’s fingers to his lips. They were cold against the hungry warmth of his mouth, but he did not notice it, and after a moment Beatrice turned from the window and took her hand from him.
“I shall re-do this room,” she said almost petulantly. “I have always hated that shade of – ”
She stopped suddenly, her eyes looking critically round the great Crimson Salon, had fallen on a picture hanging between two of the windows. It was of the Duke and had been painted when he was eighteen. In the portrait, which had been executed skilfully, there was youth and a very young eagerness in the handsome face. His eyes seemed to behold something delectable, for there was a faint smile on his cl
