She tried not to and yet she could not help it. One part of her body hungered to hear of him, to think of him, to see him and the other part, her Scottish pride, told her that she must forget him.
If he was not for the Comtesse, he was certainly not for her.
Perhaps in Scotland the feel of his lips would leave her mouth and perhaps at home she would no longer be haunted by him.
*
It was just under an hour later that Sheena moved down the passage towards the Queen’s Apartments. She could see her reflection in the long gilt mirrors on either side of the passage and she thought she looked like a ghost.
The gown that the Queen had sent her was of pure Chinese silk, soft and clinging to her figure, and made of such priceless material that one could have drawn it traditionally through a Wed
