Chapter 41

An afternoon’s rest had done wonders for her mood. Of course, discovering that Lord Archie had lied in nearly every conversation they’d had might have done something to ease her worries. Her husband had no mistress. And hated the silk

in the dining room as well. He taken time to show her, before the footman removed it, the place where, as a boy, he’d made charcoal alterations to the anatomy of one of the shepherdesses and expressed some relief that the evidence would be permanently removed by the redecorating.

She touched a curl. And Authur liked her hair. She glanced down at the ring on her finger and smiled again. He hadn’t abandoned her at all, but had been thinking of her while in London. And he’d remembered the ring. It was a sentimental choice for a man she’d thought cared only for obedience and appearance. And he’d kissed it as he had the ring he put on her finger the day they were married.

She hid a blush. Perhaps it was foolish and courting disappointment to spin fancies abou