His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet. "Good night. While he was stirring his tea, she ran and fetched the comb. Her cheeks were aflame. "But, take my advice, and keep out of Sir Rowland's way, or you'll get the poor lady into trouble as well as me. It did not take a mind reader to glean that she had suddenly gained the boy’s obsessive attention. There was a concerted gasp of shock from both the black-garbed lad and the coachman. .
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