Whatever tiresome society function he had turned up to, a bored latecomer, he knew she would be there, scanning the room for him, her aspect brightening at the mere sight of him. She had not been able to hide it. Toward the end, he had scarcely bothered to even greet his hosts or get a drink before seeking her out. How reckless he had been. Reckless with her reputation and reckless with his heart. It had not been until Italy, on his honeymoon, that he had realized the depth of his own feeling. What a fool he had been.
