As she hoisted her skirts near her waist, she thought ruefully of the last time she had worn such an elaborate gown, sometime near 1910 when petticoats were still considered hip everyday garb. ’ ‘I also said, if you remember, that I could not promise not to do so. The gallows has groaned for him for years. ’ ‘Unless it is Captain Roding,’ put in Lucilla Froxfield from the curved back sofa on the other side of the fireplace. He was keen to get to work, but the inspiration would not come. ‘Is that why you allowed me in, ma’am?’ A dimple appeared in the faded cheek. . ‘Thank you,’ she said, leaning heavily on his arm for a moment.
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