Fallen Angel. Sophia James

he muttered to himself. It would be at least an hour before he could be free and time was very precious under a bargain that would deny him further access after this night, should he use it unwisely. In frustration he turned back to his place in the welcoming committee, leaving Michael to take Brenna through.

      In the main drawing room Brenna was thankful to see Julia and Thomas Cartwright, a couple already known to them, ensconced in the vicinity. At least in a group they would be relatively safe from the intrusion of others, though the night began to appear more and more untenable.

      Her eyes looked at the timepiece gathered on a chain at her uncle’s waist. Half past eight. Lord, but it seemed like hours already that they had been here and it had not yet passed thirty minutes? An aching worry built behind her brow as she searched the front vestibule for Nicholas Pencarrow, wishing that if any one should come to harry her it might at least be him. The thought made her clench the beaded velvet of her small bag and draw away her glance from the very one who had landed her in this predicament in the first place. The Cartwrights’ greetings centred her attentions away from the gathering group of young men who had formed about her as Julia took Brenna’s hand in hers.