The afternoon sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long, golden shadows across the elegant carpets of the drawing room. The activity of Charades had finally come to an end, much to the relief of almost everyone present.
Delaney stood near the grand fireplace. Her heart was still beating far too fast. The arrival of "Captain Smith" had turned her carefully managed world completely upside down. She needed to get him out of the room. She needed to get him away from Lady Farrington's sharp, assessing eyes, and more importantly, away from Rowan's dark, murderous glare.
"If you will excuse us, Lady Farrington, Lady Margery," Delaney said. Her voice was steady, perfectly polite. "My husband has had a very long journey from the coast. I must show him to our rooms so he may wash the dust from his coat and rest before dinner."
Lady Farrington waved a dismissive hand. "Of course, of course. A wife must tend to her husband. Do go on."
