it was only Preston, his hair damp and mussed from the bath, wearing one of Blackmar’s dressing gowns. It was too short on him, and Effy felt, momentarily, very lascivious for taking notice of that at all. What young girl of this century was left feverish by the sight of a man’s calves? She was like one of those protagonists from a novel of manners, swooning over a glimpse of their betrothed’s bare ankle.
