Chapter 93

The following evening Anne took Cedric's offered arm and allowed him to escort her through the throng of people gathered in the foyer of Covent Garden's Royal Opera House. The strong scents of unwashed bodies and groups of low-necklined Cyprian ladies clinging to the men were an unwelcome sight, but Covent Garden was a blend of middle and upper classes that couldn't be avoided.

"God's teeth," Cedric muttered as a buxom woman fell against him, laughing raucously. He shoved her to the side with his lion's head cane.

"You are lucky, my lord, that you cannot see. The sight is most unpleasant," Anne confided to her escort. Cedric responded with a grunt of agreement and let her lead him in the direction of the stairs that would take them to his box.

A tall, fair-haired man blocked their path to the stairs. She froze like a rabbit caught in a snare. She'd never forget that man, or his pale eyes. The very sight of him chilled her blood.

Crispin Andrews.

He was the last man on earth she wa