CHAPTER FIVEThe sunshine came in through the open windows of the breakfast room and glittered blindingly on the silver coffee pot.
There was, Giselda noticed as she sat down, a new honeycomb and a pat of golden Jersey butter from Colonel Berkeley’s farms at the Castle.
It was a thrill to realise as the Earl sat opposite her, how well he looked. Even in the bright morning light the pallor on his face was much less noticeable, in fact his skin seemed quite brown against the whiteness of his cravat.
“I am actually hungry this morning,” the Earl remarked as he helped himself to veal chops cooked with fresh mushrooms.
“That is a good sign,” Giselda smiled.
“But not as hungry as I shall be when I return home,” he went on. “There I always ride before breakfast and come in ready to do justice
