“But we had decided against the cape and slouch hat.”
“Certainly the hat must go, but the cape looks so dashing on you I hate to part with it.”
“I must confess I did enjoy giving it that twirl over my shoulder.”
Prance considered Villier’s suggestion and found it good. “I’ll take my cape down to Weston in the morning and see what he thinks. I wonder now if red is a little gaudy for the lining. Perhaps blue ...”
“Or gold,”
Villier suggested, drawing a chair up to the bedside and pouring the posset, sleep forgotten with these important matters to settle.
Copyright © 2015 by Joan Smith
Electronically published in 2015 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads
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This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are
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