The Lady's Revenge

The light summer gown clung to Miss DeVere’s body in a tantalising way as she tilted her face up to Lord Blackwood, her smile infectious, her smoky grey eyes fixing him with a mesmerising gaze. She even stood a little on tiptoe as she looked upwards. Flouting conventional good behaviour, she behaved as if everyone else was invisible. Sir Clifford smirked as he lounged against a tree, indifferent to the company and making no effort to be civil beyond nodding to the captain and the ladies. Miss DeVere, by now, had managed to clasp Lord Blackwood’s hands in hers. Far from extricating himself at lightning speed, he seemed to be hypnotised. He gazed down at her face, a smile on his lips. Patience, with an uncharacteristic flash of anger, had the urge to slap that silly smile right off his face. How dare he look so pleased to see his former flame?

“Miss DeVere. Indeed, a pleasant surprise. And how fortuitous too. Let me introduce you to my friends.”