When she awoke from a pleasant dream an hour later, she was shocked to find herself restrained in a bed that was not hers and not the inn’s. The bolder members in the House left their places to go lobbyward, grinning. The windows were still darkened—perhaps she was not home yet. The both of them puttering about the tidy two-story house, Lucy would serve them both steaming cups of tea in the front parlor. Ramage seemed always fencing about the forbidden topic, probing for openings, and she wondered why she did not give him them. ‘And then you will be obliged to remain in France,’ she pointed out. I didn’t understand before that letter. E.
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