would go up to her bedroom, go to sleep hating him as she had done so many nights previously, frightened yet fascinated by the depths of her own emotions where Sir Rupert was concerned.
In the morning she had learned of the Dowager’s indisposition. In the morning too she had begun to realise that her fears and apprehensions of the night before were not entirely groundless. It was loneliness that sapped her strength far more effectively than any fierce, embittered exchange of words.
She had come down to breakfast only to find that Sir Rupert had already finished his and had ridden off on an inspection of his estate. He had left word that he would not be home to luncheon as he intended to visit some of his outlying farms and would not therefore be returning until teatime.
Nerina wandered
