There was no sound, but she felt a movement, a shifting of the air in her room, the warmth of another presence.
Isabel opened her eyes. He was there, at the foot of her bed, a single candle in his hand, dressed only in shirtsleeves, waistcoat, and breeches.
“Forgive me,” he whispered as he set the candle down. “I could not stay away.

Auteur: Elizabeth Hoyt