Hasket handed his outerwear to his butler. “Is she alone?”
“Yes, sir. Shall I bring refreshments?”
“No. See that we’re not disturbed.”
Hasket tapped on the drawing room door before slipping inside.
Eliza sat on a damask-covered sofa near the fire. Candles on a nearby table provided just enough light for her to see her needlework. Hasket paused a moment to consider what a picture she made, what a picture she had always made.
Eliza glanced up from her needlework. “Hasket? What on earth are you doing home during business hours?”
What indeed?
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