Chapter Twelve
Matthew stared across the table, thoroughly bewitched by the woman opposite.
‘More champagne?’ he asked.
She nodded and turned away, her attention caught by a clatter of drums, the heralding of a show about to begin at the other side of the restaurant.
On the flight back to Sydney he’d been weighing up whether he should return to England for good. He’d cooled on the idea of rushing back to pursue Rosetta. He’d stuck to his word of course. Emailed the phone-photos of Lillibridge’s papers plus Harriet’s copy-typed version and then focused on not focusing anymore on someone he was beginning to fall for.
At Heathrow his plane had been delayed. When he’d spotted her reply in his inbox, he’d gulped. Ignoring the anticipation that anything she wrote to him prompted, he’d logge
