*Tristan*
I had wanted to dine on the terrace with candles flickering because it provides more shadows than light, and I have already given away far too much. I do not want her studying me, trying to decipher me. I also do not want the formal attire that is required in the dining room … although it being my home I can wear, or not wear, whatever I want.
I am in a loose white linen shirt. My frock coat, waistcoat, and neckcloth is on the floor of my bedchamber. She is still in the hideous black, but she has removed all the pins from her hair and secured it with a black ribbon. The golden tresses reach the small of her back. It is a vision that will haunt me tonight when I return to the club. I can’t remember the last time I have spent so few hours in a day at my establishment. Odd that I
