IN THE POST-DINNER milling about, Amelia lost track of Arthur as she got caught up in conversation with Lady Helen and Lord Matthew. When she found him again, he was in one of the drawing rooms on a sofa near the windows, looking out into the dark. He seemed, for a moment, so profoundly alone that Amelia couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming surge of sympathy. No wonder he had been something of a playboy between Imogene’s death and Amelia’s own arrival on the scene. Who wouldn’t in such circumstances seek connection desperately?
Arthur glanced over at her as she sat down next to him. He gave her a tired smile when she didn’t leave the two or three inches between them she might otherwise.
“Maybe this was too much with everything else going on,” he said quietly.
Amelia tipped her head to
