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LORD NEWSOM
Lord
Newsom, a wealthy fop who’d attached himself to Ian’s
elbow, followed Ian’s gaze on one of the occasions when it
shifted to Elizabeth and went so far as to remark, in the
amused tone of one exchanging manly confidences, ‘She’s
something, isn’t she? It was the talk of the town when you
got her off for an afternoon alone in that cottage two
years ago.’
Ian
grinned and lifted his glass to his mouth, deliberately
looking at Elizabeth over its rim. ‘Was it?’ he asked in
an amused tone that was loud enough to reach the ears of
the avidly interested gentlemen around him.
‘I
beg your pardon?’
‘Indeed it was.’
‘Did
I enjoy it?’
‘I
asked I enjoyed being with her in that cottage.’
‘Why
ask? You were there together?’
‘No,’
he admitted with a rueful, conspiratorial grin, but it was
no for want of trying on my part.’
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